Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters. All rights belong to J. K. Rowling.

AN: This really was by far the most complicated chapter so far! It was hard to describe Voldemort's motives, because I do not want an OOC Voldemort who is suddenly all sappy. But at the same time, he was not allowed to be so purely could-hearted as in the books, because otherwise Harry would have simply died n this chapter. I hope I succeeded.

I also have done some CHANGES! I described Harry's magic as cold and Voldemort as warm, but really, Voldemort Is the cold snake bastard and Harry the hot Gryffindor demon. So now Voldemort is freezing and Harry is burning ;-) I changed these things in the chapters 7-9 as well.

And now I wish you fun with chapter 9 :-)

Saving a son:

Albus slumped down on a stiff, wooden chair next to Harry. He was exhausted. Three hours had he, together with Madame Pomfrey and Severus Snape needed to stabilize his son. Within three days Harry's health had decreased to life-threatening levels.

He looked down onto the still figure and his familiar, who had not left her young Master's side since their arrival. She had watched from a safe distance while they had worked on Harry, but now she laid protectively curled around his thin frame.

When his son had collapsed in Severus' class his heart had been stumbling un-rhythmically, his breathing had been shallow and his body temperature far too low, especially, when they took into account how hot he had been the last few days. Even his body looked already more haggard than usual.

Even his spells had partially crumbled and the boy now laying in front of him was not Harry Potter, the 14 years old teenager, but the changed version with silky, black hair and an inhuman beauty. Fortunately he had not turned completely in his 9 years old self. Frowning, Albus traced once again the high, aristocratic cheekbones, the small, straight nose and the small, slightly pointy chin. Where had he seen similar features before? He was sure Harry reminded him of someone, but whom? Shaking his head, he decided to look into his pensive if he could not find the answer until this evening.

At least, his son's creature features were still hidden, it was probably only due to the fact that this was a natural ability of Harry and not a spell. Unfortunately, the parts that had collapsed had done so in the Potions Classroom. He would have to give the students an explanation, but what kind? Maybe an half-truth? Yes, that would work. He would tell the student body that Harry had come into an early magical inheritance, but leave out what creature he had inherited. The students would make his own story up, it always was like this at Hogwarts. The first few rumors were probably already fly around and regardless of what he would tell the, they would not believe him, regardless. So, that was settled.

"Professor?" Asked a timid voice behind him and he faced the speaker with any twinkle in his eyes.

"Yes, Ms. Granger?"

Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger had been forbidden to enter the Hospital Wing while they had been working on Harry. They had needed space to move and react quickly. They had found out that the source for his sons weakness was his new magic which was rapidly leaving him and in the end only a very strong, dark magical field from Severus had been able to stop the process, but neither of them had been able to replenish the already lost magic, they were all incompatible. If they would not be able to find a solution soon, they would have to give Harry the Draught of Living Death in hope to buy some more time.

"Professor?" Mr. Weasley's voice pulled him out from his dark thoughts and he noticed, that he had not been listening.

"I am very sorry, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger. Is there something I can help you with?"

The two shook their heads.

"Harry told us, that he had talked to his familiar," Ms. Granger said with a long, sad look at his sleeping son.

Her words instantly made Albus sit up a bit straighter and he asked: "Could she tell him anything?"

"Not really, she only said, that Harry's magic and life force is leaving him and that she thinks, he needs to somehow consume these powers..." the young witch said.

Magic and life force... what else had the shadows told them? His son apparently belonged to a species, that had once roamed the earth before any other life had been created, a creature of ancient dark magic, and his mate was called mate-father. Magic and life force as a substitute for food, somehow that concept rang a bell in his mind, but he could not put his finger on it. Where had he heard about it? It probably had been a very long time ago, given his age.

"Professor, does that help you somehow?" Mr. Weasley's voice interrupted his train of thoughts and he looked up.

"I..." he began but just in this moment the door to the Hospital wing opened and turning around, he saw a huge, black dog running over to them, barely coming to an halt in front of Harry's bed and transforming into Sirius Black. He was closely followed by a stern looking Minerva McGonagall, who had obviously tried and failed to stop the wanted man from openly running through the school, even if it was disguised as a dog.

Quickly, Albus pulled his wand out and sealed the Hospital doors shot, before ignoring his Deputy Headmistress for the moment and greeting:

"Hallo Sirius. Good to see you."

He had already wondered when the animagus would arrive. He had send him a long letter yesterday, informing the Marauder about Harry's inheritance; the glamour's his son had used to hide his true age, and the foreboding words of those shadows. Sirius was not a man who would leave his godson alone in such an hard time.

"Albus, what happened? Is Harry...?" The man swallowed and looked down onto the boy, before kneeling down and pulling a wrapped package out of one of his many coat pockets. A hand came up to comb through Harry's hair and Sirius mumbled: "He looks so different..."

"He does," Albus nodded silently. He wished he would be able to explain why Harry's appearance had changed so drastically, there was not very much of the Potters visible in his ward anymore, but he did not know the answers either. Maybe Harry would look more like himself again, if he opened his eyes and let his bright personality shine through those emerald orbs, he honestly hoped so.

He focused back on Sirius, who was absentmindedly turning the present in his hands.

"I had wished you could open it yourself," the marauder said and then proceeded to unwrap the present for his sleeping godson and pulled out a plush-lion. Carefully Sirius placed the lion next to his godson, before turning back around and asking: "Is his condition already so bad?"

"I fear his condition is not very good at the moment," Albus told him truthfully and glanced over to Minerva, who had stepped closer to the bed as well. She gasped silently and pressed a hand against her mouth as she saw her favourite student lying pale and breathing shallowly under the thick covers of his hospital bed which seemed to nearly drown him.

"You only gave me hints in you latter... what exactly happened to him? He looks... so different," Sirius inquired, pulling him out of his examination.

"He does, the Corpus parere Minerva had taught him disintegrated partially when he collapsed," he told his former student.

"The corpus, parere? But that is complicated magic! It is even a dark spell!" Sirius gasped.

"It is a dark spell, but one of the more... grayish once. It is neither illegal, nor does it harm one's soul," McGonagall defended her action, her lips pursed.

"It's fine, Minerva, no one is accusing you, if anybody has to be accused, it would be me," Albus calmed the agitated witch down. He knew she was always worrying as much about Harry as he himself and it was not easy to see this young, but already strong boy suddenly so close to death.

Sirius sight, letting the topic fortunately drop, before asking: "So he really has turned into a dark creature?"

"Yes, and without finding his mate, or rather mate-father..." Albus didn't finish his sentence, because he suddenly had an idea, where he could have possibly read about Harry's kind. With one swift fluid motion he was at his feet.

"I have to check something. Please stay by Harry," he said to the four Gryffindors.

"Do you know who Harry's mate-father is?" Mr. Weasley asked excitedly.

Shaking his head, he explained: "No, but I may have an idea, what kind of creature he is and that will hopefully help us find his mate."

Without sparing a moment to see hope lighting up in Sirius', Minerva's, Ms. Granger's and Mr. Weasley's eyes he turned around, walked over to Madame Pomfrey's fireplace and flooed into his office.

He had been right with his feeling earlier, he had once read about a creature, Harry might have turned into. It had been indeed a very long time ago, to be precise in the year 401. No wonder that he had not been able to help his dying son; if his theory was right, than Harry was the complete opposite of him, because he, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was a spiritual being, one of those creatures, the muggles would probably call an angel, even though, of course, he was not send by any god, he was a being as any other, only with a never ending lifespan as long as no tragedy would occur. His magic was thus, from the purest kind, but back when he just had been born to a forma Vestalin-priestess, there had been rumors about a being which was rumored to be even older than his own kind.

Flicking his wand, he accioed the documents he needed. Their scribed was already very faded, even with the many preservation spells he had put on them, but preserving over a time span of more than 1600 years was more than a stretch for even the most powerful magic. He had not looked at this scroll for a very long time.

Unrolling the scrolls carefully, he sat down behind his desk and searched for the right paragraph, before starting to read:

...my Bishop recently approached me with great concern. "The fight against the devil is already hard enough for the weak human soul, we do not need more temptations," he told me and I instantly knew, which temptation he meant, but in contrast to the muggle-bishop, I knew that our problem was even bigger.

For decades now we are fighting against the evil temptation of those demons, we call Incubi and Succubi, but as a wizard I know, that they are not the only kind out there and by far not the most dangerous ones. While Incubi are only craving the innocent souls of young women, and Succubi only those of men, these third demon kind has not specialized on it's pray. Their young appearances is another aspect, that make them so dangerous, because which kindhearted citizen would suspect a demon hiding in the form of a small child? They mockingly call themselves the Libris*. Such an innocent name for such evil creatures.

Outwardly they do radiate the purest innocence, but their goal is the same as for any other demon; To devour the soul of pure, innocent people.

Unfortunately the fight against these demons is turning out hopelessly. Regardless of our spells, regardless, if a wizard is using light magic or rather those, which is only used by the more devious of us, the demons seem to be immune against them...

Laying the scrolls back down, Albus furrowed his brows together. He once had fought against a demon himself and it had ended with him fleeing, but it had not been a child-demon, like the priest described, it had been a woman, an Succubus. What had she said to him back then? Just before he had turned and run?

"You and your young magic will never be able to harm me!"

Yes, that she had said. Back than, young and naive as he still had been, he had felt insulted, but now it finally made sense to him and now he finally knew, what his son was; A Libris, a child demon, one of those creatures, who had populated the earth when no other creature had been able to live, because the light had not been born at the time and the only magic had been the ancient dark magic.

And Harry was dying, because those demons needed magic and life force to live, like humans needed water and bread. But in contrast to what the priest had written, neither Incubi, nor Succubi, nor Libris ate souls. They ate magic and life force without killing them normally, but eating was hardly the right word to describe it. They consumed through sex, because sex was also one of the oldest and most powerful kinds of magic; One could even call it live magic.

Especially during the act of a wizard and a witch, or two wizards, magic and life force were flowing in high amounts, because the energy was needed to create a healthy child. Demons used this circumstance to take in this magic for their own purpose.

But this all didn't explain, why Harry was dying. Why did his son had a mate? Why did he not seduce a student? There were more than enough victims theoretically... Unless...

Another realization hit him. Harry was a very powerful wizard, with an unusual great magical core. Any wizard or witch he would feed from would probably die and not satisfy him, so he would need someone especially powerful and probably someone, who's magic complimented his own in at least a certain degree, that was why Harry had also not approached him, regardless of his own strong magic; It was simply too light for his son's taste.

A dooming, cold feeling suddenly grabbed his heart and squeezed it painfully. A foreboding thought had entered his mind and he closed his eyes. He had an idea who Harry's mate might be, but every cell, every part of his being repelled the idea. No, this couldn't be happening to his son. Not to the small, innocent boy who had already gone through so many hells in the 14 years he was living.

But it was not an illogical conclusion...

Coming to an decision, he rose to his feet again. Images of Umbridge torturing his students, of Fudge wanting to gain influence over the next generation of witches and wizards through that woman, flashed through his mind.

Maybe, this would not turn out as bad as he had previously thought. Maybe fait had a plan once more and regardless of what the outcome would bee, he would not sacrifice his young son for a war he and every other witch and wizard was already tired off. He would not let Harry die. And maybe it would even prevent Harry from having to fight, or at least give him a strong companion, even though the war would probably not end because of this and even though, Harry would have to join his live with the most coldhearted man a child had ever grown into.

Tom had long left the path of humanity and sanity and sending his only son away to such a man hurt Albus more than anything had ever hurt in his long live. His son would not have an easy live, but he would live and maybe, Harry would once again be able to do the impossible... maybe.

But first he had to make sure his assumption was right. And afterwards he would need to talk to Harry, because his son would surely not happily except his mate, because if he was right, than Harry would need to mate to Tom Marvolo Riddle, the man who had killed his parents, that surely was no great motivation for continuing living. Hopefully, he would still be able to convince him... he did not want to loose his son.

Rising to his feet again, he flooed back into the Hospital Wing. Sirius was laying as Padfoot next to Harry, warming him together with Zaida. Minerva, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger sat next to them on three chairs, they all looked forlorn, but their heads rose as soon as they heard his approaching steps.

"Professor, do you could find out, what Harry is?" Ms. Granger asked, clutching Mr. Weasley's hand and Sirius turned back into his human form.

Opening his mouth to answer, he halted when the door to the Hospital Wing opened once again and Severus came back inside with a deep frown edged into his forehead.

Not many people knew it, but Severus Snape was deep down in his heart a very caring person who did not like to see people suffer, especially children, so it didn't surprize him that the man had showed up to check on Harry again.

"Ah, Severus, not a minute too late. I just was about to tell everybody what kind of creature Harry is."

"So you have found out, Albus?" Severus asked and conjured a chair opposite of him.

"I believe so," he nodded, his eyes wandering back to his comatose son.

"Please Albus," Minerva prompted him. "This is not the right time for your secrets."

"You are right, Minerva," Albus apologized, before looking back down on Harry.

"If I am correct with my assumptions, I do not only know now what Harry is, I also know what he needs and I even have an idea, who his mate could be. I am here to confirm my assumption." His voice sounded grave even to his own ears, for once he could not put up false unconcern.

"What kind of creature is he? Please, Albus, you have to tell me!" Sirius insisted and sat down on the edge of Harry's bed, stroking his hair softly, while the other three turned desperate eyes on him.

"I will tell your all I know, because Harry will need all of our support. I fear, that he might rather die than except his mate..." Albus sight.

"Who is it, Albus?" Severus asked in a hard tone, but Albus only shook his head, conjured another chair and started to tell them what he had found out.

"It was the mention of Harry's ancient dark magic and what you told me, Ms. Granger, about what Zaida believes Harry has to consume, which shook up some very old memories in my mind," he started. Harry's friend, Sirius, his Deputy and even Severus looked expectantly at him, so he decided to not beat around the bush like he always liked to do and continued:

"Back when I was born, rumors about strong demons frightened the people of Rom. A few decades after I was born, in the year 401, I came into possession of a collection of old documents a priest had left behind after his death."

"In the year 401?" Ms. Granger asked with a gasped.

"Yes, indeed Ms. Granger;" he smiled softly.

"But then you are..." Sirius said in disbelieve.

"I am quite old and in fact, the opposite of Harry, that is why I could help him even less than our dear Severus when he fell ill this afternoon," Albus sight, before continuing his explanations once more. "However, this priest wrote about a different kind of demon as well. Until then the people only knew about Incubi and Succubi (which the muggle do until this day), but witches and wizards also learned about a third kind; the Libris."

"Libris? Like children?" Minerva interrupted him with a furrow of her brows and he nodded.

"Yes, I think we can say fairly certainly, that Harry is a Libris, a child demon," he nodded.

"It would at least explain what you have told me about his... young appearance," Minerva mused.

A silent chuckle came from the wall and a pair of red eyes appeared. "You are very intelligent, old man," the shadow standing there chuckled. It was the oldest one again.

"Um..." Sirius cleared his throat, ignoring the shadow, even though he had never seen the creature before, but there were probably other, more important things on the man's mind right now.

"When you say he is a demon like an Incubi and a Succubi, does that mean he needs..." The animagus glanced over to Harry and than back to Albus, obviously not daring to say the words, but Ms. Granger had understood the implication and gasped.

"Yes, your assumption is right, Sirius," Albus nodded and watched as his son's godfather paled and Minerva slam her hands in front of her mouth once more.

"But he is... so young!" Sirius exclaimed agitatedly.

Albus could only nod sadly. "Maybe Harry will be lucky and he will be able to start a courting process first, this way he would have more time to get used to the idea," he mused. He certainly hoped so. Having to live with Tom Marvolo Riddle would be enough of a shock, even without having to share with him a bed from the very first night on.

"That will indeed be possible," The shadow suddenly affirmed, stepping out from the wall. "He will have to place a mark on his mate-father, but after the courting bond has been initiated, he will have half a year to complete the mating."

"Oh thank Merlin!" Minerva breathed, pressing her right hand to her chest.

A wave of relieve floated through Albus and he sighed simultaneously with Sirius and Hermione Granger, but Ronald Weasley looked still none the wiser. Well, he would leave the task of explaining to Ms. Granger, he had more pressing matters to concern himself with right now.

"So, who is his mate?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Sighing, he tolled the small group: "Normally, demons do not need mates. They can mate of course and create offspring, but it is not a necessity, because they can feed from any human being."

"And why did Harry not eat yet?" Ms. Granger asked, blushing violently, while Mr. Weasley gave her a confused look again.

"I guess, it is due to Harry's powerful magic. He will need an especially strong person to satisfy his hunger, or he would simply kill the wizard he feeds from."

"Correct," the shadow chuckled.

"Wizard?" Mr. Weasley asked without paying the shadow any attention as he grew even paler.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, wizards," Albus sight. "If my recollection is not failing me, Libris are naturally submissive. Their pray normally are those men who have unethical desires."

"But why do you not feed him, if he needs a strong wizard? I mean I know that you are not one of those men, Professor, but wouldn't it not be better for Harry than... this!" Mr. Weasley asked with a huge gesture over to his sleeping friend. Minerva, Ms. Granger and Sirius were nearly choking on their own spittle and looked very flustered, but he simply answered calmly:

"Because, my magic is far too light for a dark magical creature."

He saw Sirius' eyes widened in sudden realization.

"Albus, do you mean, that his mate has to be a dark wizard. An especially strong dark wizard?" The marauder asked shock and fear evident in his voice.

"Yes, that I assume," he confirmed gravely.

"Albus...?" Minerva asked weakly, she looked as if she was about to faint. Ms. Granger's and Mr. Weasley's eyes had also widened, but the two seemed to shocked to be able to say anything.

Heavy silence rang through the closed off Hospital Wing for a moment, until finally Mr. Weasley said: "You-Know-Who? You can't be serious, Professor!"

Shaking his head sadly, he rose again to his feet. "I do not wish this fait upon my son either, but I for my part believe in fait and I believe in the redemption of every soul. It will not be an easy path for Harry, that is why he will need all of us, without any doubt," he said and his voice rang with the power he normally hid so well as he slowly began to unleash it.

To his relieve Harry's friends and his godfather instantly nodded, so did his head of house, even though they still looked slightly skeptical. Well, the concept of redemption for Tom was not easy to imagine, he admitted.

"We will help him, no matter what," Mr. Weasley assured, his voice shaky but determined. The teenager looked down on his sleeping friend, who was still only breathing weakly.

"But what has this all to do with these strange title... mate- father?" Ms. Granger asked, her brows furrowed.

"That I can still not answer," Albus answered truthfully. He had not even a theory about it and even in connection with demons, he had never heard this title before. Suddenly Minerva grasped his arm strongly and in her eyes terror shone brightly.

"Albus..." she whispered, as if afraid to speak her thoughts out loud. "What if... what if we have to understand this title literally... like made and father..."

His blue eyes widened in realization. Of course, why had he not realized this sooner?

"But that would be incest!" Sirius sprung to his feet and protested loudly.

Albus shook his head: "Not for a race, which had been created when there was no other life on this planet."

"What do you mean, Albus?" Minerva asked weakly.

"Imagine there would be only twenty wizards on this earth, no muggles, no other half-human creatures, what would we need to do in order to survive?" He asked the little group in front of him.

"Professor," Ms. Granger started. "Do you mean incest is... natural for them?"

"Yes, I do believe so," he nodded.

"But..." Sirius said again, before breaking off.

"Demons are considered a died-out species, there is not much known about them and when they were still larger in number, wizards were not able to study them thoroughly. So I am not surprised that we do not know everything about them," he told Sirius.

"But... he is Jame's and Lily's son! He looks so much like them!" the animagus exclaimed in despair.

Albus did not want to add even more to his former student's long list of pain, but he had to. They all needed to be clear about this or they would not be able to help Harry and Harry would need their unwavering support.

"You have not yet seen him after his inheritance, there are other features on him now as well. James and Lily's are still there, but they are not the only one's anymore. Tom must have done something and it has somehow mate Harry his son as well, there is no other explanation right now. Maybe we will soon have a chance to talk to Tom and maybe he will be able to give us another, but for now I can not see any."

Sirius gulped and turned to look at Harry. "You will always bee James' and Lily's son, regardless of what evil, dark ritual You-Know-Who did to you."

"Stop, stop, stop," Mr. Weasley suddenly exclaimed, interrupting the grave atmosphere. "Do I understand this correctly? You-Know-Who is not only my best mate's mate, but also his father?"

"In some way, he probably is," Albus affirmed.

Ronald Weasley paled even further and grasped his friends arm to steady himself. Hermione Granger had listen silently and Albus could see that she understood his logic, so did Minerva, but it, of course, didn't mean that the witches were any happier than the rest of them.

Deciding that they finally needed clarity, at least about the theory of Tom being his adoptive son's mate, he said:

"Very well, than I will provide us with some certainty now."

He closed his eyes for a moment in concentration and concentrated on the flow of his magic. He had not done this in many years, but his wings reacted instantly and he heard several gasped as they appeared on his back, huge and white as always. His own change was not as significant as his son's. Spiritual beings had always been closer to humans than demons.

Opening his eyes again, Albus saw that the other four had stood up as well and taken a respectful step backwards. "I will try to find out who Harry's mate is for certain now," he explained and drew his wand together with a small glass viol.

Stepping next to his son, he pressed Harry's cold hand shortly, before tapping his son's throat and than the viol. The viol started to fill with blood, but in contrast to human blood, or his own, it was not red, but entirely black. Sirius gasped in the background, but he ignored it, concentrating on the spell.

When the viol was filled, he ended the spell, and pulled a feather from his wing. It hurt like only the cruciatus curse could hurt normally, but he bit his teeth together for the sake of his son. The use of his feather would give his spell much more strength, strength he would need.

Bending over the form of his son, he uncovered him and then vanished all his clothing with a spell, before slowly dripping the blood onto the motionless body in a straight line, starting on Harrys forehead and going down to his son's navel. The rest of the blood he poured over his feather, before placing it over Harry's heart.

When he was finished with the preparation, he lifted his wand and started to incarnate a long incarnation under his breath. His son's familiar watched him attentively and slowly mist formed in a cloud over his body.

Albus could feel the eyes of Harry's friend, godfather, Severus and even the shadow on him, but he continued to concentrate on his spell.

Slowly the mist thickened until glowing, red letters formed in the middle of the cloud, forming the name Tom Marvolo Riddle.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Even though he had suspected it, to see it affirmed was still an entirely different matter. Oh, how he wished an easier fait for his son.

Ending the spell, he vanished his feather and the blood and spelled a pajama onto his son, before turning around.

The other's faces were all as grave as his own felt, but there was also determination; they all loved Harry in their own unique way and neither would give up on him.

"I will not let him go alone to that monster, Albus," Sirius whispered, balling his hands into fists

"Sirius, you will not be able to accompany him to his new life. Peter is there, and Tom Riddle will not spare you only because he will be mated to Harry."

"If the bastard even will help Harry," Ronald Weasley growled.

"Oh I am sure he will," Albus retorted. "It is too great of an opportunity."

"Why?" Mr. Weasley asked with a scowl.

"Because," his friend explained matter-of-factly, "Mating with Harry will almost be like winning the war. Harry is the figure of hope for the light side and for the public it will be, as if we admit defeat."

Ms. Granger really was an especially bright witch for her age, Albus mused.

"But Harry will never see it this way. He will continue to fight!" Mr. Weasley said heatedly.

"Harry will die if he defeats his mate," Sirius growled, clearly upset.

Nodding, Albus said: "Sirius is right. We can not say how Harry's life, or the future of our world will be, but Harry will never again fight against Tom Riddle. And for my part, I long since have the feeling, that the future will be entirely different from what Tom or I myself have ever imagined."

"How do you mean that, Professor?" Hermione Granger asked, but was interrupted by Sirius.

"Albus, I will NOT let him go alone. I can influence my form, you know that!"

Albus eyes widened in shock. Sirius, as an heir to the Blacks, could indeed influence his animagus form, but only by using his strong, dark magic, which he had fought to suppress all his life. Using this power, it would finally make the man a dark wizard, maybe a borderline dark one like Severus Snape, but a dark one nonetheless.

"Don't look at me like this, Albus! You know you would do the same. The status of my magic is not worth letting Harry go alone into that bastard's snake den!" Sirius sneered at him and Albus nodded once. His former student was right; in this room, every single person would sacrifice him- or herself for Harry and they all would feel better knowing that the small raven would not go alone to meet his dangerous and lonely fait. It had always been his son's gift to evoke such strong emotions in people, even though Harry himself was not aware about it.

"Then you will have my permission," he said to the marauder, who smiled sadly, before closing his eyes.

Albus watched silently as Sirius finally freed his magic. Harry's friends were holding his breath, probably not understanding what Sirius was about to do, but feeling that it was something huge.

It took Sirius much longer than it had taken himself to free his magic, because in contrast to himself, the man was not used to let go of his restrains. But the moment it happened was unmistakeable, The air around Sirius grew noticeably colder. The shining, blue eyes darkened, until they had the shade of a dark blue night sky.

Sirius shivered involuntarily, but proceeded to transform into his animagus form without hesitation. First he grew into the big, black dog with the messy fur, but then he shrank until he was not more than a pup with oversized paws and huge ears.

The puppy turned back into Sirius, who looked more stern than Albus had ever seen him before. He of course new that the man was not only a troublemaking marauder and that he could be serious and professional, but Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger were looking at him with huge, disbelieving eyes.

"Shall we speak with Harry then?" Sirius asked without commenting on the looks he received.

"I think it will be best to not tell Harry more than that Tom is his mate. It will be hard enough to convince him as it is and he is very weak right now," Minerva recommended.

Nodding, Albus agreed: "There is no need to burden him with a theory we can not yet prove. And Tom will most likely know better what he has done and will be able to explain it more thoroughly."

"But why did he never collect Harry until now?" Ms. Granger asked, asking a question he as well had silently pondered. They all exchanged looks, but no one could do more than shrug, not even he had a theory about this mystery.

Conjuring another chair for Sirius, he motioned to Harry's friends to sit down as well, and than pointed his wand at his son, mumbling "enervate," after he had sat down himself.

Harry awoke with a groan, but despite the strong reviving spell, he was barely strong enough to open his green eyes, which had grown dull and nearly lifeless. His son didn't seem to notice them, instead he fumbled a little as he obviously noticed the soft plush-lion next to his hand, grabbed it, picked it up and lifted it in front of his face. Never before had Albus seen such an expression of happiness on his son's face. Even though he was so weak, he smiled brightly, hugged the toy to his chest and a single tear of happiness rolled down his cheek.

Albus would have liked to let his son be happy for a moment longer, but he feared that Harry would not be able to stay awake for long, so he said softly:

"Harry?"

Harry turned his head and it was painful to see how much strength it cost him. A strong, but shaking hand grabbed his suddenly and Albus realized a bit surprised, that it was Sirius who was holding onto him.

Harry opened his mouth, but now word left his throat, so he quickly continued. Harry was getting weaker with every passing second, despite Severus' dark magical field, he could see it.

"Harry, we have found out what creature you are and who your mate is," he told his son.

"Who is it?" Harry asked, barely audible and he sounded like a dying man, or rather a dying child.

"You are a special kind of demon, like an Incubus or Succubus. Your kind is called Libris."

Recognition flickered in those green eyes, but Harry said nothing, so Albus simply explained further. "I preformed a spell to confirm your mate..." he hesitated a moment and on his son's face he could see, that Harry was bracing himself for the worst.

"It is Tom, Harry."

Harry gasped and the sudden shock gave him enough to suddenly sit up with a jolt. He was coughing violently. Zaida slithered protectively closer and looked up at his master with concern.

"No! That can not be possible! It can not be true!" Harry exclaimed, horror clouding his eyes. "I will never... mate with him!" his son spat out.

"Harry, you will die if you do not accept the bond with Tom," Albus said calmly, having expected this reaction.

"Then I will die! He murdered my parents, he would kill all my friends at the first best chance, he will probably use me to kill you all!" Harry shook his head.

"Harry, please," Sirius said, leaning forwards. Harry, who had not noticed him until now, eyed him warily instead of with the usual joy.

"Albus will find a way to protect your friends and I can protect myself, we will all find a way, but please, don't give yourself up."

"No! Not even if I wouldn't have to... to...share a bed with him," Harry said sternly, his breathing becoming even shallower, "I will never join him! Never! How can I put you in such danger? And what will the others think off me? They all will be disgusted."

"No, Harry," Ms. Granger intervened. "We will not be disgusted. The public maybe, but the public always loved you only to hate you the next day."

Harry only shook his head, clutching the plush-lion tighter.

"Yeah mate, we won't abandon you. And who knows, maybe you can even turn the bastard light! If someone could manage such a thing, it would be you," Ronald Weasley added with a forced grin, repeating the thought he had mentioned earlier.

"No," Harry said again with a stubborn set of his jaw. "He will only use me, use my powers." Harry caught again, this time longer. When his son was able to breath again, Albus grabbed one of his cold hands and said as calmly as he could currently manage: "You do not have to show Tom your powers or your true form, as soon as you have gained some strength back, you can build your glamours up again, he will not be able to see through it.

There are many creatures who look human, like elves for example and there are no pictures of demons anymore. And Your friend is right, maybe you will be able to find another solution for this approaching war."

Harry wrenched his hand free. "No, Albus, even if all this..." Harry coughed again, "...all this is true, he has still killed my parents..." The coughing grew stronger and suddenly drops of blood appeared on Harry's blanket. An alarm went off somewhere in Madame Pomfrey's office and when Albus looked up, he saw blood trickling down his son's chin.

Ms. Granger was gasping in shock, but she and Mr. Weasley, together with Sirius and Minerva were quickly shoved to the side by the frantic looking Matron.

"Albus, his heart is skipping..." she said, waving her wand. Harry's eyes had rolled backwards and he was cramping violently. "Quick, hold his mouth open. We need to put him to sleep. Now!"

Albus knew that she didn't meant a simple sleeping potion, still, he grabbed his trashing, unconscious son, pulled him into his arms and then pried his mouth open. Madame Pomfrey quickly poured the potion into Harry's mouth and massaged his throat for a moment, making him swallow. Only a few seconds later the potion took effect and his son's breathing stopped completely alongside with his heartbeat as he drifted into the Sleep of Living Dead.

Laying his son carefully back down and placing the plush-toy into his arms again, he breathed a long sigh of relieve, but his relieve was only short, because Madame Pomfrey rounded on him:

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, what did you do? Didn't I warn you? Every little bit of stress can be too much for his body in his current state!"

"I know Poppy, I know," he said emotionlessly, he felt utterly drained and even older than he was. "But I found his mate and had to talk with him."

Pomfrey gasped. "Who is it."

"It's Tom Riddle," he said grimly.

Poppy looked as if she would faint and had to steady herself on the nightstand. "Voldemort?" she breathed. "What are you going to do?"

"I will have to contact him," Albus said truthfully, turning around. "And I better do it quickly, or he will die before Voldemort can even arrive to collect his prize."

"Albus, you can not mean it?" Poppy asked weakly.

"But I do, Poppy. I will not let my son die," he said and turned to face Harry's two best friends, he said: "I will go back to my office and search for a way to contact Voldemort. You two better go back to your common room for now. I do not know when he will arrive."

"Come, I will bring you two back to the common room," Minerva ushered them quickly away.

Sirius transformed into a puppy again and Albus bend down to pick him up and placed him next to his son.

"I will be back as soon as possible," he said to Sirius and Poppy, before leaving once more for his office, but not before giving Severus a long look. The Potions Master gave a barely visible nod and Albus finally disappeared.

When he stepped out of the hearth, Fawkes eyed him with a sad and knowing look.

Deciding that he would use the time until Severus would arrive, he asked the phoenix: "So, how do you contact a Dark Lord in hiding? Maybe a latter?"

The majestic bird gave a trilling sound and he walked over to his desk, sat down and pulled out a piece of parchment, ink and quill from a drawer.

Writing the letter was not easy. How was someone to find the right words to address his former student who had turned into his biggest enemy? But after half an hour he finally laid his quill back down and rolled the parchment together, sealing it with the seal of Hogwarts.

Now the only question left was how to deliver this letter to its recipient. Standing up with a sigh, Albus went over to his extended bookshelf.

When someone was living as long as he did, he was bound to forget nearly as much spells as he learned over the years, not even an spirit's mind was perfect. He was just reaching for a big old tomb, then a beautiful, but slightly agitated trill sounded and as he spun on his heels, he only could watch as Fawkes scooped down on the letter, grabbed it and vanished in a flame.

Just in this moment Severus came in. The man raised his eyebrow questioningly, but he only shrugged. Fawkes would certainly be able to deliver the post, but to what price?

"You wanted to speak to me?" Severus asked without commenting the incident any further.

"Yes, my boy. I wanted to ask you, if you could search for an alternative plan to save Harry, just in case Tom might not agree to help us."

The other man snorted, before nodding and saying "Certainly."

"Do not make such an expression," Albus said and looked pointedly at Severus wrinkled nose. "I know that you do not hate Harry as much as you make everybody believe."

He only earned a sneer for his words, before Severus turned on his heels and disappeared again.

Sighing Albus shook his head and pulled his wand from his robe pocket, he still needed to change the Hogwarts wards for the time being. Otherwise Tom would not be able to enter and save their son.

…

Voldemort was watching Nagini leading the other, much smaller magical snake into the throne room at her side. His basilisk had adopted her, maybe as a substitute for her lost daughter. He watched the two, not further acknowledging their present; He was in a foul mood. Once again he was unable to reach his prodigy and he had wanted to talk with him or her, to distract himself from the frustration that were his own mind. But it didn't respond and it's mind and magic was blank like a white canvas.

These last days had all gone by like this; with many frustrations and disappointments. Looking down on his huge familiar, he realized that he needed to find new approaches to resolve all his current problems.

He had also tried today to concentrate once again on his main goal (the destruction of the Ministry), but his thoughts always returned to those hidden memories. This feeling, that he had forgotten something very important was still growing stronger with every day and it had by now reached nearly unbearable dimensions, even his wish to ensure his immortality was paling in comparison to it.. But still, his mind stayed unyielding to him.

His wards quivered suddenly and he looked up when he recognized the magic. A moment later someone knocked softly at the doors to his throne room.

"Come in, Lucius," he ordered and the man entered.

Voldemort watched calmly as his loyal follower approached, kneeled down and greeted him with the words: "My Lord."

"You can rise," he allowed generously, and waited for the Malfoy patriarch to speak.

"My Lord, I was just wondering, if you have a new order for me. Karkaroff, the traitor, is still out there..." Lucius broke off.

Voldemort inwardly scowled, but of course, he let nothing show on his face. He had forgotten about this scum. Karkaroff needed to be taken care off, but not right now, not when he couldn't even concentrate.

"Karkaroff is currently..." he started to say but in this moment his wards trembled violently, bending almost to the point of breaking and the aura of a powerful, light creature swapped over him, then a light, so bright that he and his follower had to shield their eyes exploded in the room.

Voldemort tensed and stretched his magic out to block any attack, he would not be brought down by this, regardless of how surprising this attack was. When nothing happened, he slowly lowered his arm and his gleaming, red eyes instantly fell on a small pile of ashes with a sealed scroll on top of it. For a moment he frowned, but when the silent screech of a young bird came from the ashes and he extended his magic once again, he finally recognized the bird; It was Dumbledore's.

His first impulse was to vanish the bird alongside with the letter, but then he stopped himself. What could be important enough for the old coot to send his beloved phoenix for, knowing that Fawkes might pay dearly for his delivery?

Glancing over at Lucius, he commanded: "You can go for now. I will contact you soon."

Lucius, the intelligent man he was, bowed deeply, before leaving without asking any question. This kind of undoubting loyalty had made him his right hand man during the last war and would surely bring him far once more in the future, but for now Voldemort had other concerns.

He lifted his wand and cast a row of dark revealing spells, but the scroll was not charmed. When he was satisfied, he summoned the scroll and sat back down in his throne, before braking the the old coot's seal and beginning to read.

Dear Tom,

I trust that you will recognize the urgency a letter from me to you must have, why else should I contact the student I have fought against for so many decades?

Voldemort was tempted once more to destroy the letter at the use of his unworthy given name, the name of his filthy, cowardly muggle father, but being a Slytherin, he was always searching for opportunities in every given situation and that was the reason, why he continued reading. Maybe this letter could give him an advantages in the war.

At midnight on All Hollows Eve, Harry Potter came into his inheritance. Now he is dying.

Voldemort smirked. This letter was turning this unpleasant day into the most fortunate one he have had in decades. Quickly he read on:

I would not notify you about this, but you are the only person who can save him.

Stopping again, Voldemort snorted. He would certainly not save the light sides little hero, when he would win this war more easily without Harry Potter in the picture, but still, he continued with the letter.

My son's corporal powers themselves helped me to determined you as his destined mate; they call you his mate-father.

A sound like breaking glass echoed through his head, accompanied by a head-splitting pain and in the next moment images started to flicker in front of his inner eye as this last word, mate-father, finally freed his memories and he fell into them like into a pensive:

The throne room looked the same as it did fifteen years later, but Voldemort could see by his appearance, that he was indeed watching a scene which must have taken place during his first reign. His eyes were already red, but his face and figure were more haggard by the over-excessive used of dark magic to prolong his live.

He was sitting alone in his throne, clearly pondering one plan or another. It had to be late, because a pale moon shone through the windows to his left, when suddenly a voice spoke to him, or maybe it was not one voice, but many:

"Dark Lord, your path has lead you to power, but also to loneliness. You deny craving a family and a trustworthy person to turn to, someone who would warm you during the cold of night, but we can give you a partner for live. A soul mate, to take your loneliness away and to grand you even more power. Someone, who would never betray you."

His younger self's head had snapped up the instant the voices had spoken and like his younger self, he was searching the room for the source of those voices, but he was not able to find anything.

He could see caution flash in his younger self's eyes, before he apparently decided to first gain more information about this intruders before constructing a plan to punish them for their brazenness of intruding his home.

"Why should you give me a soul mate? Surely not out of selflessness?" He heard himself ask, his eyes still looking searchingly around.

"Indeed, we are far from selfless," the voices answered, a smirk evident in their words.

"Tell me then, what is in for you?" His younger self demanded to know, standing up and staring to attentively strode through his throne room, while seeming perfectly relaxed and casual.

"We want to roam the world again, to live again, but we need a master of our kind."

"Than you want to join me?"

The voices snickered, before answering: "You can not be our master, you are not from our kind. But we want you to help us create a master for us."

Voldemort was frowning in confusion, this situation made no sense and even so he could clearly see that it was his memory, it felt not in the slightest bit familiar to him.

"Than search for one who is already living. I have no interest in creatures who are unwilling to join me. And now leave before I will kill even the last of your kind for intruding my home," his younger self sneered, and spun around to face the direction from which the voices had last sounded.

"You can not harm us and to find a master is not possible, the born one's are long since lost."

"Your problems are none of my concerns and if there are no masters living anymore, I can not possibly help you either, even if I wanted." His past self's lips curled in disdain and annoyance at the situation, he had always hated situations he had not planned and even more so those, he could not control.

"You can, dark prodigy," the voices disagreed. "We can sire a new master from your magic and blood. He will be born to a mortal couple, seeing that he needs more than one pair of genes and that you are not able to carry him yourself."

"Than you will give me a son, not a soul mate?"

Voldemort saw the moment his younger self's interest was awoken, even though he could not understand himself anymore. Had he ever been lonely enough to be interested in such a dubious deal?

"Do not worry, we will give you a mate and a son, you will not have to choose," The voices reassured his younger self. "But be warned; You will have to feed your mate-son. Our kind can only live from magic which rivals our own and a new master can only be sired by one immensely powerful and dark, like you, Dark Lord of the human race."

Voldemort could not believe what he saw in his past self's eyes; He was honestly considering to agree. Wishing he could travel into the past and crucio some sense into himself, Voldemort resigned himself to continue watching.

"Your master, will he be a threat for me?"

Voldemort sighed, at least his younger version was showing some of the brains he possessed.

"Not, if you do not wish so," the voices sounded obedient now where they were about to get what they wished.

"I agree, but only under the permission, that he will be not stronger than myself," Voldemort heard his past self agreeing to the ridiculous deal and an uneasy feeling entered him.

"Than we have an agreement," the voices agreed.

"How will I recognize my son and my mate?"

"Oh, you will have no problems," the voices seemed to smirk once more and in the next moment the present Voldemort felt a rush of magic, unfortunately it was too quickly gone before he could memorize it's signature, but as he looked up, he saw his younger self standing in the middle of his throne room, rigid, blood was dripping from his nose and a wet spot was shimmering at the front of his ropes. Apparently, Voldemort thought, the creatures (what ever they were) had used more than his blood and magic to create this son and mate.

The scene started to blur and in the next moment Voldemort found himself standing in Diagon Alley.

Looking around, he searched for his foolish version. How could he have ever agreed to such a deal? A son and a mate... well, the thought of a son he could mold into a powerful tool was a good idea, but a lover would only be building his own weakness and he certainly didn't need an heir, he after all, did not plan on dying.

He finally spotted a tall figure with broad shoulders and slim waist, clad completely in a long, black cloak, the hood pulled deep into his face. His younger self was standing in the shadows, that alone told Voldemort, he was witnessing a scene maybe a year or two before his sudden fall, because he must already have been powerful and feared enough to dare going to Diagon Alley, something he had not been able to do in the years where he had silently build his fellowship and power, carefully hidden, so that Dumbledore would not notice his actions.

Suddenly his younger version's posture stiffened and turning around, Voldemort followed his line of sight, landing on a familiar and hated couple. Lily and James potter where smiling happily at each other and Lily was shortly touching her still flat belly, but the magic radiating from her was not like the magic of a pregnant witch should be, it was not even completely light anymore, instead she was radiating with a blazing, dark power, still weak, but clearly there and clearly similar to his own. In this moment Voldemort realized who the couple was who would bear his son and he froze in shock.

The Potters, this could not be possible, Voldemort thought, bile rising in his throat. Did this mean that Harry Potter... no, he shook his head. Lilly Potter must have had a miscarriage and lost his son, because he had met Harry Potter only once since his fall, and the boy was certainly not his son.

Unfortunately, his argumentation should not be affirmed. Voldemort couldn't say how many pieces of memories he watched and how long it took him, but it grew clearer and clearer that Lily was indeed carrying his child without any problems and with every memory Voldemort could recognize his own signature in the baby's magic clearer and clearer, even though his own magic felt cold and not hot like the burning flames of hell. It was also quite clearly inhuman, but still very much immature and had not a stable signature yet.

So he watched the Potter couple, remembering the voices saying, "Seeing as he needs two sets of genes." He watched them shopping baby clothes, going to St. Mungo's for check ups and buying toys in preparation for their son. Lily's stomach grew bigger and her face brighter, while his past self was getting more eager at the same pace.

His mind was in a turmoil while simultaneously feeling frozen when he found himself once again in his throne room. His former self was clearly making himself ready to leave, when a soft knock sounded.

"Come in," he heard himself order and a moment later a much younger severus Snape entered and kneeled down in front of him.

"My Lord," Severus greeted, waiting until he was allowed to speak further.

"I hope it is important. I was about to leave," his younger self said coldly.

"I believe so, my Lord. I overheard a prophecy," Severus answered politely.

"A prophecy? About whom?"

Severus gulped visibly, back then he had not yet been so practiced in Occlumancy. "Of a child with the power to defeat you. It is supposed to be born at the end of August," he finally said, visibly fearing a ruthless punishment for bringing these bad news, but his younger self only laughed in true, malicious delight, sending shivers down his servants spine.

In contrast to Severus, Voldemort could understand where his amusement had come from. Every child of his, of course, would potentially have the power to defeat him. The voices, of course, had promised him that his son would be weaker, but cunning and a good strategy could always make up for slightly less power.

Suddenly Voldemort remembered Nagini telling him, he had been amused by the prophecy at first. Back than, without this memory, he had not been able to comprehend, but now he saw his past reasoning clearly.

"You can leave again," his former self ordered and Severus rose with a confused expression, but visibly relieved to not have been tortured, he quickly bowed and left without another word.

Another memory of his younger self watching the Potters and his growing son followed, this time they were in a park and his son had to be due very soon. Lily Potter's stomach was huge and she was only walking slowly as she and her husband made their way around a middle sized pawn.

His younger self was carefully following them hidden under a few very strong and very dark consealment spells, but Voldemort could still sense him clearly with his high and sensitive abilities.

His younger self seemed very excited, as far as he ever got excited, but there was a certain gleam in his red eyes and by now he even could understand the sentiment. His son's magic had already grown to be immensely powerful and so deliciously dark, inhuman and burning like the flames of Fiend-Fire; Hotter than anything else he had ever felt. And he could feel that there, in the light witches stomach was really growing his, Lord Voldemort's son, unknown to the world.

In the eyes of his former self he saw the impatient and the deeply hidden wish for his own family (which he had thought he had already buried for all eternity while still at Hogwarts) flickering back into life.

The Vision blurred again and the next thing he saw was himself shouting at Severus.

"Into hiding?" He shouted in fury and pointed his wand onto his young follower. "Crucio!" Snape writhed in agony, silently screaming, but his younger self didn't lift the curs until blood was leaking from his servant's mouth.

"You will find out where they are and how I can get to them! They have something that is mine!" he ordered, his voice a threatening hiss.

The next memories were only quick successions of pictures. Apparently his younger self had not been able to find a way to get to the Potters and collect his son, who had by now been born. With every moment he grew more restless. Of course, no one of his followers had any idea, but Voldemort could clearly see how agonized he had been. His younger self soon looked as if he had neither slept nor eaten in a very long time, only held upright by his dark magic. The pain over being left alone a second time was visible to him on his younger face. He even tried to find the voices, but to no success.

When finally Peter Pettigrew appeared with the message that he had been announced the new secret keeper to provide more safety for the Potters, Voldemort could clearly see that his mind had already been very far gone at that point in time.

The pictures blurred again and next thing he watched himself storming the Potter's house in Godric's Hollow, intend on getting his son.

His younger self fought James Potter, but after about ten minutes he defeated him and quickly made his way up the stairs into the nursery, where one Lily Potter was standing in front of the crib, a very familiar, green eyed and brown haired baby clutched to his chest. She quickly laid him down and stepped protectively in front of the little bed.

Voldemort stepped nearer to the crib and examined the baby lying in there, while his younger self was shouting at Lily Potter. Harry Potter was radiating with dark magic, how the Potters had never noticed that something was wrong with their son, he could not fathom. His eyes were still slightly bluish, like the eyes of most baby's were and his face still too round for Voldemort to be able to see if the baby held any resemblance to himself or not. But the child's radiating magic was prove enough.

Hearing Lily shout "No, not Harry! Please not Harry! Kill me instead!" he stepped back again, again watching the scene. He watched himself lift his wand and speak the killing curse. Lily fell lifelessly to the ground, but instead of witnessing his moment of victory, Voldemort saw something break inside his younger self's eyes. In horror he watched his himself stepping up to his son, saying: "So, you are the one who cost me so much pain. I will not let you grow up into an enemy." His younger self lifted his wand slowly, and as his curse rebounded, it was not due to Lily Potter's sacrifice, but to his own magic refusing to kill his own child.

With a gasped Voldemort emerged from his forgotten memories. His heart was racing in his chest and cold sweat was covering his skin as he slowly realized what he had just learned. This was too good to be true. Not only was one of his most dangerous enemies his son (a son, he had created with his magic, blood and semen), his other enemy also wanted him to help safe said son. He knew it and Dumbledore knew it as well; by asking him to save the light side's hero, the old coot was practically handing him the war on a silver platter. And even if he had still wanted to kill Harry Potter, the thought of turning the light side's hero dark would have ended this wish. Oh yes, it would make his victory so much sweeter when he would present a Harry Potter to the world who had fallen under his power, under the power of his own father. But if Harry Potter was indeed on the brink of death was yet to determined.

He chuckled darkly. Dumbledore had wanted to keep his son away from him, to raise him into a weapon against him, but his plan had failed. It had taken fourteen years, but his son would finally join his side, where he had always belonged. Already plans were forming in his mind with ideas wherefore he could all use Harry. His son would easily be able to infiltrate the old fool's ridiculous order and maybe even the ministry, if he planned wisely. But he was running ahead of himself.

Taking a deep intake of air, he tried to calm himself and summarize what he had learned:

These creatures had clearly kept their promises and given him a son. They had implanted the created foetus into Lily Potter, why they had chosen her he could not say, he only hoped that his son was not a Halfblood.

The Potters had never found out that their son was in fact not their's and after the prophecy had been made, they had gone into hiding with the help of Albus Dumbledore. That he had not been able to reach his son (whom he had clearly grown attached to, even though he could understand this fact as less as his past feelings for the child), had driven him nearly into insanity and when he finally had reached his offspring, his mind had already shut down due to the long exposition of mental pain. He had only felt this pain, pain he had sworn never to feel again in his life and when he had looked into the crip, he had only seen another source for his agony, having forgotten all past experiences with his son. What a truly bad example for mental protection.

Yes, he could admit it; Back then, loneliness had been his greatest weakness. A weakness, he had foolishly believed to have overcome too early.

Thinking back to the one time three years ago when he had last met his son, he could not find any resemblance between Harry Potter and himself. He had also not felt the dark magic which he had felt in his memories. But magic was very complicated, especially blood magic. It was possible, that Harry's body had sealed away his inhuman genes after he had been attacked by the father who had created him and had been supposed to protect him, such defense mechanisms were known.

Dumbledore had written that Harry had indeed come into an inheritance on Halloween, just a few weeks after he himself had returned to a body, that supported his theory. His sons magic had probably sensed that he had come back and finally triggered Harry's full power.

This explained so much; why he had felt so possessive over his young enemy; why he had always thought Harry Potter to be his; and finally, why these locked away memories had not left his thoughts in the past weeks.

A sneer suddenly formed on his lips, replacing the smirk that had been there only a second before. His son, made from his magic and blood had been raised by Dumbledore and muggles, he had become a Gryffindor. He would have to bring him to his home and try to repair some of the damage that had been done to him. Harry Potter, even though he could not understand the sentimentality of his younger self, would receive the best education in all subjects, light and dark. He would clad his son into the finest materials and would let no doubt arise over what kind of position his heir hold within his ranks. No, no one would look down on Harry Potter, regardless who the boy had been so far, because degrading his heir would be degrading himself, a disrespectfulness he would not tolerate from his followers. And he would, of course, control the boy tightly. There was no doubt in him that Harry Potter would not graciously accept him.

Looking down on the letter he was still holding, he frowned. Dumbledore had written him that he was Harry Potter's mate, not his father, whilst his memory clearly told him the opposite. Bringing the first memory to the frond of his mind, he tried to recall all details.

"Do not worry, we will give you a mate and a son, you will not have to choose," they had told him. Had they been the same creatures which had told Harry that he was his mate-father? That would make the Golden Boy his mate-son. Voldemort dismissed the idea. No human or non-human took part in incest between parents and children, it was (genetically speaking) suicide.

Lifting the letter again, he quickly read the last lines to not miss some other important information. He started once more with the last sentence he had red previously:

My son's corporal powers themselves helped me to determined you as his destined mate; they call you his mate-father.

He had forgotten that the old coot had adopted Harry. It had not been of any interest to him before now, because the man always have had far to much influence on the boy than he would have preferred. But now he was curious what had mate the man take these steps after knowing the boy for three years already. Why not earlier? This way Dumbledore would have had even more time to raise the boy into his weapon.

Regardless of the reason behind Dumbledore's step, he would change the guardianship as soon as possible. And his son's name as well, Harry James was not an adequate name for a Slytherin heir. What a mundane name, it made him sick.

Sneering at the letter, he proceeded to read the the last paragraph:

For reason you surely understand, I will not put more information into this letter, in case it gets intercepted. However, I am willing to answer any lingering question. Therefore this letter will transform into a portkey to my office when you tip it with your wand and say "Headmaster's Office."

In hope to see you soon,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Standing up, Voldemort smoothed his robes and went over to the pile of ashes, looking down on it. He wanted to keep the bird and send him through many lifetimes of torture, but ignoring his wish, he picked the little phoenix up instead and put it in his cloak pocket. If he wanted a chance to mold his son, he would have to seduce him slowly to his side, right now his mind set was too much that of a noble, fool-hearted Gryffindor, thus, torturing his beloved guardian's bird would not help his goals in the least. Once the boy was under his control though, he would not need to be so generous anymore, but for now it was unfortunate a necessity.

Sneering at nothing in particular, he pulled out his wand, tipped the letter and said: "Headmaster's Office." It was time to collect his prize.

…

It had been a long time since he had last stood in this room, but in all this years nothing had changed, only that the office of the former Professor was now much larger and located in the highest tower of Hogwarts.

He regarded all the many trinkets, small magical artifacts, books and all the dismatching, colorful curtains with a sneer, before finally turning to the person who had invited him back into the place he had once considered his only home.

The old fool was sitting behind his desk, chin resting on his intertwined finger as he already had liked to do back in his own school days, but today he was for once not smiling and even his eyes were not twinkling.

"Ah, Tom. I have hoped you would come," the old coot greeted him whilst waving his wand and making a comfortable and luxurious looking leather armchair appear opposite of him. Apparently the man did not only knew the taste of Gryffindors.

"I suspect you will still have some questions," Dumbledore said while he sat down without a sign of gratitude.

"Indeed, Dumbledore. I think there are quite a lot thinks we need to discuss," he said and waved his own wand over a cup of tea that had just appeared in front of him, checking it for any kind of spells and potions. When he found nothing, he lifted it up and drank a bit, before placing it back down. He had not really expected to find anything, Gryffindors were generally to nobel for such backhanded moves and furthermore, it would not help Dumbledore to win his favor, which he clearly needed.

The old coot was looking at him expectantly, so he simply asked his first question. "You wrote that I am Harry's mate. Where do you have this information from?"

"Ah, yes. The term I used was not very clear. To be honest, I never have heard the term mate-father before either and only have a vague theory about it, but I preformed a magical ritual this afternoon, after he had collapsed in his Potion's class and the result was clear."

With an inclining of his head, he offered generously: "Maybe I will be able to clarify this term at the end of our conversation, I have some inside in this matter myself. But first I would like to know, what kind of creature Harry is."

The term mate and father did still not fit together in his opinion, but regardless of what he personally thought about Dumbledore, the man knew his magic and he did not believe that he had made any mistake in the ritual. The old coot had to be more than certain, otherwise he would never had invited him, his biggest enemy, here.

"Harry is a Libris."

Voldemort did not let show that he had never before heard about such a creature and simply nodded in understanding, taking another sip of tea.

"Libris are a special kind of demons," the old fool continued as if he knew that he needed an explanation. "They belong to the same family as Incubi and Succubi."

Voldemort tightened the grip around his tea cup. Fortune was smiling down on him today. All those days and hours had he searched for a trace of those ancient beings and now one was given to him freely. Beneath his black hood a triumphant smile stretched his lipless mouth. He had never heard about Libris before, but he knew enough about demons to realize that his son had to be very powerful when the old coot comparred his species with Succubi and Incubi. Demos were divided in cast, so much had he been able to find out. The bottom made the Lesser Demons, who looked as inhuman as goblets and were the most weak of them all. In the middle stood the Humanoid Demons, like Harry was. The very top of the Demon Hierarchy was made from only one single being, who was their king and supposedly of Royal Magic. The term Royal Magic had made few sense to him in the beginning, wizards only new Royal Blood, but he supposed that it was the magical power and abilities which would make this demon their king. This concept would be similar to his own inheritance. His magic had made him the Dark Lord, but he first Dark Lord (which had been Salazar Slytherin, of course) had also tied this magic to his own bloodline, so that someone needed the right blood and the right magic to call himself the Dark Lord.

Naturally to say, many wizards had called themselves the Dark Lord since then (like Grindelwald), but neither had been a true Dark Lord. But the fool from the Ministry had yet to realize why he was so much more powerful than his predecessors. Maybe they would realize the truth one day, but most likely they would remain ignorant.

Regardless the Ministry and his own inheritance Dumbledore's conviction slowly started to make sense, especially if he took into account what he had learned from his own memories:

All documents he had found had said that Demons had long gone died out and those voices had told him the same, that was most likely why they had needed to create a new Humanoid Demon with his help. This would of course mean, that only the Humanoid ones had died out, while the ones who had created his son were most likely Lesser Demons who had somehow survived. But why the more powerful Libris, Succubi and Incubi should have died out but not the Lesser Demons, he could not fathom.

What ever the truth was in the end, Harry had been created through him, which made the boy his son, but as a humanoid creature, he would need to consume life force and magic. Demons did through sex, which would make Harry not only his son, but also his mate. And he needed to be Harry's mate, because Libris were dark creatures who would need to feast from dark wizards. But Harry was also created from his blood and magic, would make him so powerful that only his magic would be able to sustain the child. It all made perfect sense. The only question remaining was, why demons did not find the concept of incest so abhorrent as all other beings. Well, he would get his answer in time, it was not very important right now.

Emerging from his thoughts, he sneered at Dumbledore, who was eying him expectantly. As less as he wanted to give the old goat any informations, within Hogwarts Dumbledore was even more powerful and it would be a stupid thing to provoke a battle in the close proximity of his currently very weak son. So for once he would engage in a fair exchange of informations, compromises and favoure, until he hold Harry in his hands.

Meeting Dumbledore's blue eyes, he said: "Fifteen years ago, I got a mysterious visit from some bodiless creatures, I suspect now that they were Lesser Demons."

Dumbledore nodded, but his face did not reveal any further informations.

"They were looking for someone who would be able to help them create a master for their kind. In exchange for my help they promised me a mate and a son."

With malicious joy he saw sadness shortly flickering through those usually twinkling, blue eyes. Acting as if he did not see the expression, he continued: "Unfortunately, I did not remember this incident until I read your letter," he said nonchalantly. "And I certainly did not expect to met my son and mate in one person."

Pausing, he indicated wordlessly at the question he wanted to have answered with an elegant motion of his hand, and as he watched Dumbledore close his eyes in unhidden sorrow, he knew that the old man knew the answer.

For a few second the old coot sat only silently opposite of him, but finally he nodded and started to answer the question: "These three demon kinds, were the first beings on this planet. I suspect, that incest was a necessity and the key to their survival, back in a time where maybe only a dozen of them existed."

He did not hid his smug smirk at those words. No text had until now revealed to him the fact that demons were the first of all beings. The thought of what kinds of unknown powers must be hidden in their cells send a wave of pleasure through his body.

Having gotten this question finally answered, he changed the topic back to Harry. "You said, you needed my help because Harry is dying?" He asked, placing his cup back down.

After all he had heard from Dumbledore, the possibility of his son being at the brink of death was even more questionable. Harry was a demon and demons were immortal, which was one of the main reasons why he was so interested in his long lost son.

"He is," Dumbledore nodded gravely. "His magic is searching for you. As you surely know, these kind of demons need to consume magic and life force, without the sustenance they grow weak and finally die, but due to his searching magic this point is approaching rapidly."

Frowning, Voldemort pondered if demons were after all not immortal, but quickly dismissed the idea; too much sources had been sure on this point. But than again, there was even a way to destroy vampires and they were considered immortal. Deciding that he would learn the truth if he went to his son, bowed his head slightly and said: "Then let us discuss the details of our arrangement and not loose more time."

The old fool nodded and than asked unnecessarily: "You are aware that I am Harry's rightful guardian currently?"

"Of course, a fact I intend to change as soon as possible," he sneered in retort. He would not let Dumbledore have anymore say in his son's life.

"I would not advise to change anything about it," Dumbledore retorted smoothly. "Demons are considered died out, therefore there are no special laws for them, however, there are laws against incest. With you becoming his mate, you and I would have the same say in his life. You would gain much influence over Harry without giving the Ministry a legal foundation to take Harry away from you and then from me surely as well, and we both know that the Ministry is viewing Harry as a potential threat already."

Voldemort gritted his teeth, unfortunately the old coot was right and currently his influence in the Ministry was not yet big enough to make him invincible, especially as long as he still was more or less mortal. But he still didn't intend to let Dumbledore have the upper hand. Coming to a decision he said:

"Harry will move in with me and we will be officially married. Lucius Malfoy can make sure that the news about this connection does not come out until it is save for Harry."

"Very well, but I have to insist that he will continue his education here," Dumbledore retorted.

"Of course," he agreed smoothly, even though he did not like the idea, but once he had ensured his power over his son, he could still forbid Harry to continue attending Hogwarts. And when the Triwizarding Tournament was finally over, of course. "It would make no sense to hide him, when Harry disappears suddenly, beside, he is still a champion of the Triwizarding Tournament, it would not do for my son to loose his magic because of a magical contract."

"I see we have an understanding," Dumbledore said and then added: "I still have to thank you for aiding Harry with one of your serpents, Tom."

Curling his lip in disdain, he sneered back: "Harry Potter has always been mine. But what would interest me is the reason for his adoption."

"Ah, I fear it is not my place to tell you the reason, but I can assure you it had nothing to do with the war. You should ask Harry when he trusts you more," Dumbledore smiled friendly.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, he was not satisfied with the answer, but unfortunately Dumbledore was the only person he could not extract informations from. "I will do so then," he promised with a slight hissing undertone in his voice.

"One thing I still have to inform you about," the old coot spoke up again, changing the the topic as if he had not heard his last words. Oh how he wanted to kill this man right now, but no, he had to consider his plans with his son and letting Dumbledore alive was also a part of it like sparing the phoenix and allowing his son to continue at Hogwarts.

Making a motion with his hand, he prompted Dumbledore to continue.

"Harry knows that you are his mate, however, right now he is more willing to die then to complete this union... he is not very happy with the idea of having to share a bed with you, even though his servants have told him it would be enough to start with a courting bond..."

Taking another sip from his teacup, he said: "I will speak with him, I was always very convincing." He would not allow his powerful offspring to die, because of a surge of foolish Gryffindor sentimentality.

"Very well, I think it best, when we use my fireplace," Dumbledore said and went over to his personal fireplace, holding out a bag with flew powder and added, "He is in the infirmary."

Giving a curt nod, he through the powder into the flames, which turned green and he stepped inside, saying: "The Infirmary, Hogwarts."

When he stepped out again, he first thought that the Hospital Wing was empty, but then his eyes fell on a set of white, drawn curtains in the far right corner. The old fool stepped up next to him and motioned for him to go ahead. Making his way swiftly over he pushed the curtains with his wand to the site and came face to face with his son for the first time in over two years and froze.

Harry Potter looked so much like his old self, but there were just enough other trades to give him his unique appearance as well. His hair (although still infuriatingly messy) had changed from a deep brown, to a satiny black, even darker than his own. His cheekbones were high and aristocratic, like those he had once possessed and Salazar Slytherin before him. His nose, even though small, was very straight. His lips were slightly fuller than his had been, but the shape was the same and the boy-hero's bronze complexion had made place for a noble paleness.

How was this possible? Had the inheritance changed the boy so much? Considering the unfortunate attack of his own father which his son had been forced to face as a baby, it was possible that his magic had hidden more than some inhuman body parts. Glaring, he glanced over to the Dumbledore, it was all the old goat's fault. Had he not hidden the Potters, he would have never have attacked his son. Harry's magic would never have suppressed the bigger part of his being and the boy would have been raised properly, like an heir of him should have been raised.

Tracing once more the features of his son, he licked his lips at the thought of breaking his sons Gryffindor-spirit in his bedroom and his cock stirred too life.

He quickly changed the direction of his thoughts, before his body would show clear signs of his aroused state.

It certainly was curious, how Harry, despite all these similarity to him, succeeded to still look like Harry Potter. He still had that disgracing bird's nest of hair and his cheeks were rounder than he himself had ever possessed in his youth, he only had noticed it just now.

But beside all those changes, his son did not seem to have received an inheritance and he could also not feel any magical signature, but that was probably due to the boy's weakness, he had (after all) already witnessed the child doing magic.

Scanning the sleeping form once more, he noticed that his son was not breathing. He had not thought that his Harry's state would be indeed so dire that the old coot and the Matron would be forced to put him under the Sleep of Living Dead. At least it explained the lack of the magical signature.

Stretching his hand out, he wordlessly requested to be handed the antidote to the potion. Dumbledore gave it to him without hesitation. He bend forwards but stopped when a small black puppy suddenly appeared from under the covers and peaked up at him. His dark blue eyes looked fiercely at him without any sign of fear.

"Ah, this is snuffles, Harry's second familiar, a special breading from our keeper. His goal was to breed dogs with the same characteristics chic-chicks have, so he probably will stay this small," the old coot said from behind him, a smile evident in his voice.

Voldemort gave the pup another glare which would have made his Death Eaters quiver in fear but the animal only yawned hugely. Sneering one last time, he turned to his son and grabbed his chin to open his mouth.

His son's skin was unusual hot, the first sign that hinted to his inhumanity. He ignored the fiery pain that burned his skin at the touch, but this pain did not come from Harry's body temperature. He knew, as a part-snake, his son's heat would feel rather nice to him. No, that was not the source; he and Dumbledore had simply forgotten to take one thing into account; He and his son were not able to touch each other.

Ignoring the problem for the moment, he pried the small mouth open and uncorked the viol of Potion with his thumb, before pouring it into the small mouth. He massaged Harry's throat and waited for the potion to take effect, but as soon as it did so his son started moaning softly as if in agony, even though he did not wake up.

Like the old coot he had always believed that this effect had been cost by Lily Potter's sacrifice of Love and the immense love this boy was able to feel, but now he knew that it was far from the truth. It in fact was a curse, instigated by his own attack. Parent's were not supposed to kill their children and while it was an regular occurrence in the muggle world, in the magical world the magic of father and child would act up and create protections; in their case it was the curse of not being able to touch each other and stand in close contact.

Browsing his mind quickly, he turned to Dumbledore. An evil smirk stretched his thin lips as he realized, he could use this problem to his advantages and gain even more power over his son. "I think a blood marriage will be sufficient enough to clear this problem," he said smugly.

"Yes," the old coot agreed with a nod and a thoughtful expression, clearly unhappy. "The exchange of blood should suffice to rebuild the magical bond between father and son again and to neutralize this problem."

Voldemort's smirk widened in satisfaction. This form of marriage had fallen out of use after it had become uncommon to marry children at a young age to adults for political ambitions.

With this marriage Dumbledore would stay his son's legal father, but he himself would also be included in the guardianship of Harry Potter, because it was believed that underaged married witches and wizards could not bee seen as adults only because of their married status. Therefore the husband was supposed to substitute the parents whenever they were not near, which was quite often as soon as the young spouse moved in with his or her new husband; He would not have to ask Dumbledore's permission for every decision which would fall into his area.

Of course he had never planned on doing so, but with a blood marriage, Dumbledore would have no legal ground to object him. Of course the old coot would still have an eye on his son (he refused to call Harry their son), but all he would be able to do would be protest.

"Harry and I will exchange our blood then as soon as he has agreed to this. This way the magic will have time until tomorrow to rebuild our parental bond and hopefully give him some of his energy back." He said and sat down on one of the empty wooden chair before waking his son up.

…

Harry couldn't say where he was, or what had woken him, the last thing he remembered was the Potions classroom. His scar throbbed and his head hurt. Have he had another vision? He couldn't remember, he felt so weak, so incredibly weak. Blinking his eyes open, he came face to face with the white ceiling of the Hospital Wing.

A movement to his left alerted him to someone sitting there and collecting all his power he slowly turned his head to the side, only to see the man of his nightmares sitting there, the man who had killed his parents and who was his mate.

Voldemort had pulled up the hood of his black cloak, so the only thing he could see from him were his gleaming red eyes, but he had an idea what laid hidden in those shadows and was glad for the hood. But even without seeing his face, the man was an impressive and imposing figure. His shoulders were broad and strong, he sat straight and Harry could feel Voldemort's magic moving like snakes around the man and on his own skin.

"Harry, my boy," a soft and familiar voice to Voldemort's right said and he trie to turn his head further, but he was too weak. Rustling sounded and in the next moment Albus stood behind Voldemort. It was odd to see those two calmly next to each other, without wands drawn and curses flying.

"Tom has come here to help you and to find a joined way which will make you able to accept your mate. He also can finally explain to you what the title mate-father means, my boy."

His eyes widened a fraction and they flickered back to his most hated enemy before growing cold. "I don't want to know. I will die soon anyway, because I will never accept him as my mate or whatever," he said weakly, but vehemently, those few words almost costing him the little remainder of his energy.

"Harry," Voldemort said suddenly and he flinched at the unnaturally high, hissing voice. The sound felt like sharp ice on his skin and he shivered involuntarily. Having not expected that Voldemort would actually address him, he looked over to the bastard again in surprise.

"Harry," he said again, before continuing, "I will tell you which roll in your life I exactly have and afterwards I will listen to all the objections you have and try to find a solution with you. I expect you to at least try to solve this, so does your headmaster."

Voldemort's voice was cold and commanding, clearly showing that the man was used to give orders without being objected. This tone alone made Harry want to refuse any conversation, but looking up to Albus, he saw that the man was nodding in affirmation. Clenching his jaw he fixed his eyes back on Voldemort, refusing to at least say anything as long as he hadn't the option of not listening, but Voldemort seemed not disturbed and simply took his silence as agreement.

"The word mate-father is not a mere title, it is to be understood literally."

His heart started to race again and cold sweat was breaking out on his skin. His mind was reeling and trying to tell him, that Voldemort could not mean his words as they sounded. He was a Gryffindor, a nearly exact copy of James, his father, and he had the eyes of Lily, his mother, there was no way that Voldemort could be his father. And he certainly could not be his mate as well.

He refused to listen to the voice that pointed out that his appearance had changed much and he did not look so much like James Potter anymore; that he had gotten a dark creature inheritance from somewhere and that his magical core had changed also.

"Unfortunately, due to an unpleasant string of events I did not remember these things until I received a letter from... Dumbledore this afternoon," Voldemort continued smoothly.

"But..." he stammered, panic rising in his chest. This could not be his fait, he could not be this man's son also, that was impossible. Hadn't Sirius and Remus witnessed his mother's pregnancy with him? If he really was Voldemort's son, that would mean she would have betrayed James with the man, which she would never have done, he was certain of this. And how could he be expected to mate with his father if this all was true?

Voldemort seemed to read all his questions in his eyes, because he started to speak once more, his deep voice filling the Hospital Wing easily.

"I created you with my magic and the help of some creatures..."

Harry's eyes widened. The shadows. Could they have wanted to return to this world so desperately that they had joined Voldemort to reach their goal? Could they really be so ruthless? Unfortunately he had no doubt in this fact.

"They implanted you into a witches stomach, because neither of us would have been able to carry you. Unfortunately, I never was able to collect and rase you, and you grew up in the believe that the Potters were your parents," Voldemort waved his hand dismissively, as if he was informing him about the weather. Tears gathered in Harry's eyes and he turned his head to look away, not wanting to believe any of this, not wanting to see Albus nod in affirmation. He was not Voldemort's son. His whole past, everything he believed he was, could not have been a lie. But Voldemort continued his tale and he had to listen, because he was too weak to place his hands over his ears and block the man's voice out.

"I did not know that you would be born a demon, but demons were the first creatures on earth and thus, incest is not something out of the ordinary for them. You do not can forget that there is no other wizard strong enough to keep you alive, Harry."

Harry shook his head, he didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to face this sick reality. The tears finally spilled over, but he bit on his lips to prevent himself from making any noise. Even though he was dying, he wouldn't let Voldemort see the full extend of his weakness and desperation. He would not give the bastard this satisfaction.

"Harry," Albus' gentle voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Please turn around and try to find with us a solution for this. Please, think of all the people you are dear to, who love you. Your friends, Padfoot, Minerva, your familiar, we all don't want to see you die. I am sure we can find an understanding."

Shaking his head desperately he started to say "And I...," but was interrupted by a violent cough. He could taste blood in his mouth again, but wasn't concerned anymore, he had accepted his fait.

"And I..." he started again, "will not see you all die. If I mate with him, he will surely use me to get to you. That is why I will die."

He tried to turn his head back and glare at Voldemort, but he was actually so weak that he could not do such a small movement anymore. Suddenly a pleasantly cold hand touched the side of his face, while the pain in his head and scar grew stronger. He stiffened as he realized who it must be, even though the touch itself was surprisingly gentle.

When his head was turned around, Voldemort let go of him and examined him for a long moment. These cold, red eyes and the man's swirling, evil magic were making him even more uncomfortable and nervous and he a shiver went down his spine. He had not feared the man very much when he have had his wand and shouldn't fear him now where he was dying anyway, but somehow he did. He wanted to look away, but like the rabbit in front of the snake he had frozen. Finally Voldemort said, his hissing voice cold as eyes: "I can not promise you to never kill your friends, but I can promise you to spare them as long as they do not openly oppose and challenge me."

He shook his head, baffled by the statement. "But you killed my parents," he whispered brokenly.

"They were never your parents, you never belonged to them. I even gave Lily Potter the chance to step aside and live, but she refused," Voldemort retorted without any ounce of sympathy in his voice.

"She didn't step to the side, because she loved me, like a parent should love their child!" He shouted, or at least tried to.

"Lily's magic was not what saved you, it was mine. Because we are father and son and parents can not kill their children!" Voldemort suddenly sneered and his eyes flashed threateningly.

Harry recoiled, shocked by the sudden outburst of emotions in those otherwise emotionless eyes. "Why are you doing this? Wouldn't it be easier for you to simply let me die?" he asked.

"It would be easier, I will not deny this, but you are... my son."

He couldn't believe that the man had not more motives, Voldemort did nothing without gaining something, he was a Slytherin through and through. He even was the heir of Salazar Slytherin. So was he, apparently, but he certainly did not feel like an heir to the cunning and devious founder. He would not even have considered believing this crazy story, if it was not for Albus' silent affirmation in the background.

"This can not be your only reason," he croaked out.

"I see, you have at least inherit some of my intelligence," Voldemort said and a malicious smirk was evident in his voice. "My goals have not changed, I will not deny it." The man inclined his head nonchalantly.

"Harry please. Think about your friends," Albus suddenly pleated. "Think about what Mr. Weasley told you about chances."

Harry hadn't to asked what his guardian meant. Did they really believe he would be able to change Voldemort's mind, which had been set on one goal for the last 50 years or so?

"Harry, I do not believe you wish to die. You had barely time to live yet, you are young. Do you not have dreams?" Voldemort suddenly said, remembering Harry of all those things he still wished to do, of the reason why he had been so desperate after hearing who his mate was. Yes, he was still young and no, he had not really lived yet. He wouldn't have had the time even without the Dursleys' torturing him, but because of them he had lived even less than any other fourteen years old boy.

"Don't you want to save this world? Do you not think you could achieve your goals much more easily with a direct view at my plans?" Voldemort taunted him, showing why he was the Lord over all Slytherins and making his mind waver.

"I promise you that you will not wish for anything. I will let you continue your education at Hogwarts and I will even spare all your friends as long as they stay neutral. Without you, your side will surely loose this war, I can tell you as much, because no one can rival my magic like you can. Do you honestly want to leave them all behind? Is my offer really worse then dying?"

Harry closed his eyes, feeling that he was defeated. No, this offer was not worse than dying. He loved his friends and didn't want to leave them behind. And he loved his guardian and godfather. There was so much beside his family and friends he loved; Quidditch and the frisky evenings in the common room, he even liked most of his classes and he truly could not let them fight alone against Voldemort. Maybe they all were right, maybe he would be able to find a way to save the wizarding world this way.

But how should he ever share a bed with this man? He felt still so small, so young, so innocent. Another tear rolled down his cheeks, before he opened his eyes again and looked once more at the man who had created him, he could not call him father.

"If I agree, how will my life continue?" He asked, by now his voice was so weak, it was nearly inaudible and even speaking this loud had made him feel even more weaker.

"If you agree, than we will exchange blood to overcome our little... proximity problem," Voldemort started. "It will also be a preparation for our marriage."

"Marriage?" Harry squeaked. He knew he would have to mate with Voldemort some day if he wanted to live, the fact that he would have to have sex regularly with him afterwards he tried to forget for the time being, but no one had mentioned marriage until now, not even Albus.

"Yes, Harry," Albus said calmly. "It is the easiest solution to your pains and it will also give you more protection from the Ministry, we both fear what they are planning for you. An adoption can be annulled fairly easily, this isn't the case with a marriage. Marriages are protected by very old laws and magic itself."

"What are they planning for me? Do they plan anything?" he asked.

"I was not the one who hexed the Goblet of fire," Voldemort answered smoothly. "And as low as my opinion of your guardian is, I do not believe that he was the one either."

Gulping, Harry nodded in understanding. At least about this matter he had clarity now. He had always thought that Umbridge had behaved suspiciously after his nomination, but Voldemort had still been the more likely candidate.

"Tomorrow Dumbledore will bring you to my Manor, where we will marry. Afterwards you will move in with me. I also plan to educate you more appropriately to your nature, but you will also continue your education here."

Harry wanted to snort, but his heart was stumbling again. And he felt as if he was barely getting air into his lungs. Education according to his nature, he could imagine how that would look like, but it probably would even benefit him. He had no real understanding for his own magic and couldn't even do any light spells anymore. Pushing these thoughts to the side he asked, his voice weak and raspy: "And what is with the mating?"

"We do not need to mate immediately. Your headmaster told me that a courting bond would suffice for the time being and a courting period is is part of every proper marriage regardless," Voldemort told him, but Harry only frowned. The shadows had used this term as well, but he had no idea what a courting period was.

Albus, who had more inkling to his areas of knowledge spoke up as he saw his confused look.

"A courting period, Harry, is a time where the future couple is getting to know each other, it is quite common among purebloods, because their parents often choose their spouses. And even though you will already be married in legal terms, for your magic it will not matter, thus you can still get accustom to your husband without any pressure, while at the same time having all legal protections and benefits of a marriage."

Harry laughed dryly. Maybe he would be more protected from the Ministry, but who would protect him from his spouse? And what use would it have to get to know Voldemort better? It would not turn this farce into a happy marriage with love ever after.

Voldemort spoke up once more. "I will, of course, expect fidelity from you, but I think this is only a small request in return."

Harry would never have thought that the Dark Lord would allow his spouse to be unfaithful, so he simply nodded and answered: "As long as I can expect the same thing in return."

Voldemort inclined his head. "I always held traditions in high regards and fidelity is one of them."

"ThenI will be faithful," he promised without telling his future husband that he was not interested in sex in the first place and that he would most likely never have started a physical relationship in the near future, if it hadn't been for his inheritance.

Looking up to Albus, Harry asked the last question he wanted to have answered before making his final decision: "How many people do... know about me?" He asked vaguely, hinting at their earlier discussion.

"Tom has seen you, of course, but otherwise only those you are already aware of."

He sight in relieve. This was not as good as Voldemort not knowing anything about him, but at least he did not know what his powers exactly were. This would at least give him a small chance to survive a marriage with the Dark Lord. He met Albus' sorrowful, pleading eyes, he finally had come to a decision. "Fine, I will agree," he said, his eyes still on Albus and only after he had seen the relieve in his blue eyes, did he looked back down at his sire and future husband and mate.

"Good," Voldemort said, rose to his feet and waved his wand. Two silver goblets, ornamented with emeralds and Slytherin's crest appeared on his nightstand, next to a matching silver dagger. The dagger as well was adorned with the crest and small emeralds and it's blade of the dagger was very slim and pointy, like a snake's tooth.

"These are ritual goblets and a ritual dagger. I am going to cut you now and gather some of your blood in one of the goblets," the man explained.

Harry gulped, somehow he had not imagine that they would really exchange blood, but now there was no way of backing out anymore, not after seeing the relieve in Albus' eyes.

Voldemort's hands were once again unbelievingly warm as they touched him and another shiver went through him, something inside him was purring in pleasure and relieve while his scar throbbed painfully again.

The contact and pain made his breath even more shallower and his vision was blurring once again. He barely felt it when the dagger was piercing his wrist and blood started to drip from the cut into the goblet. He felt his eyes roll backwards and his heart skipped a few beats, but then, when he almost believed that he would die after all, that his body was by now too weak to survive the marriage and it's preparation, the pain stopped and his heartbeat grew steadier again while his vision focussed back on his soon-to-be husband.

Voldemort was looking down on him, but his red eyes were showing no sign of any feelings. He followed the goblet with his eyes when Voldemort finally sat it to the side; it was nearly filled to the edge and completely black.

After the goblet stood securely on his nightstand again, Voldemort cleaned his dagger with a spell, he cut his left wrist open as well, before placing the dagger to the side and picking up the second goblet. In contrast to his own blood, Voldemort's was red as it should be. It seemed to take immensely long until the second goblet was filled as well and Harry wondered, if it had taken this long with him too.

Finally Voldemort placed this one to the side as well and closed the wound at his wrist with a flick of his wand. He then picked his goblet up again and stepped even closer to his bed.

Harry would have startled as Voldemort suddenly slid his free hand beneath his head, if he still would have had the necessary energy, but he hadn't. His head was lifted and the goblet placed at his mouth.

"Drink," Voldemort instructed and having no other choice, he obliged.

When the first drop of the man's blood touched his tongue he could not suppress his groan. It tasted so good and sweet, and he had not eaten or drank anything for so long. With every gulp he felt his strength return and he slowly grew more aware. The liquid was prickling with magic and freezing his insides pleasurably on it's way down. And suddenly it didn't taste good and sweet anymore, suddenly, all he could taste was the evil darkness of Voldemort's blood. It slowly started to fill him up and he started to struggle, sudden fear that he would loos himself to this darkness. This was not the same darkness he possessed. His darkness was only magical, but Voldemort's was deeply connected with his whole soul and being. He struggled harder to get free and away from the evil liquid, how had he ever thought he could do this? How had he ever thought he might find a way to change this man? This marriage was not a change to save their world, this was the way to it's certain destruction.

A voice snickered in his mind, if it was Voldemort himself, his magic or his own fear struck mind, he couldn't say, but it gave him the adrenaline boost he needed and suddenly he was shoving the Dark Lord away from him.

Red blood spilled all over him and the blanket and he blinked dazedly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. After a second that felt like a small eternity, he determinedly looked up, but all he saw was a furious flashing in those sanguine eyes, before a pale, spidery had shot out from under Voldemort's robes and grabbed him around his neck, squeezing painfully.

"You stupid boy!" the man hissed in rage, sounding more like a snake than ever.

"Don't delude yourself into thinking that you can escape me! You are mine, by magic and blood and you always have been mine. I don't need to be gracious, there are more convenient methods to bind you to me. I will not let you go and you will listen to my orders, for I am the one who created you!" Voldemort tightened his grip around his neck even further until the fragile bones were creaking dangerously. He gasped in pain and tried to get air, but the bit of strength he had gotten through the blood exchange quickly left him, probably because they had never finished the ritual. He probably should start to feel panicked, but he had made his decision, he would die and if it would be by Voldemort's hands or the hands of his inheritance didn't matter.

His ears started to buzz as his heart constricted painfully in his chest and he barely noticed it when Voldemort also grabbed his right arm to apparate away with him.

But Albus had noticed and a red light shot past him, hitting Voldemort's hand and he felt weakly back onto his bed. His vision blurred as he tried to regain his breath and watched Voldemort swirling around, his bone-like wand already in hand and pointed at Dumbledore. But Dumbledore only raised his own wand and his free hand, said something and suddenly an enormous surge of magic made the whole castle shake in it's foundation. In the next moment Voldemort just vanished, as if driven away by the headmaster and Hogwarts itself.

Harry smiled one last time, relieved that Albus, his friends and Sirius were save for now, before darkness overpowered him again.

…

Albus' chest heaved heavily as he slowly lowered his wand. The last tremors ran through the walls and the floor beneath him, but a moment later all was silent again.

He wanted to slump down into his chai and wallow in his sorrow for once, but his fight was not over. He needed to guard Harry from any spell or ritual Tom would surely soon try to cast on him.

A single tear slid down his cheeks as he inwardly said goodbye to the boy he considered a son. But he could not decide differently, Harry would never forgive him, if he let Tom bound him to himself like a slave, therefore the only other choice was to let Harry die.

"Oh Harry," he whispered. His eyes flickered over to the nearly lifeless form of his son, but he could not stand the sight and turned his face away as he started to cast protective shields. 1600 years of experience had not made him able to save the one person who was more important to him than anybody else. He had always felt connected to Harry in some way and after his son's inheritance he had come to know why. They were not from the same species, but there was no other species which walked on earth as long as their's. Still, they were too different, or he would do everything in his power to save Harry, but he couldn't.

What had made Harry change his mind? Had he not convinced him that death was no solution? Had Harry not wanted to find a way to save his friends and their magical world?

He tried to think back to the moment when the boy had suddenly shoved Tom away, had something happened before? But no, he could only remember Harry drinking the blood. So, was the blood the reason? Had his son felt something inside of it.

Sighing, he came to the realization that he should have predicted such a violent reaction from his son and cast another shield. Blood was the most powerful liquid in their world, it held the essence of a wizard's magic and soul. To taste a soul could probably be a most joyful and pleasurable experience as well as a most disturbing, and tasting Voldemort's soul probably would be the latter. Why had he not predicted this?

It seemed to him, as if he was overseeing a lot lately, at least, when it was connected to his son. He had never believed Tom's words (and he still did not believe that love was a weakness), but love apparently cloud even influence his judgement to a great degree.

Soft foot steps reached his ears and he slowly turned around to see who was entering.

"Ah, Severus, good to see you, my boy," he greeted, but his voice sounded weak to his own ears.

"Indeed," the man retorted with a sneer, examining the golden wards he was still casting around Harry.

But Severus' short answer made him look up sharply again. The man would not have responded in such a way, if he had not good news, otherwise he would have reacted with one of his sniding remarks. "Have you found something?" His blue eyes fixed on the man who had been his savior in more than one occasion.

Severus nodded slowly, pulled out his wand and a bowl from his robe, and without a word of explanation pointed his wand at the dried blood on Harry's covers. The blood liquified again and floated over to gather in the bowl. Finally the man took a deep intake of air, and said: "I believe I have found something, and not a minute too late..."

Severus trailed of and his black eyes watched Harry for a moment, before continuing: "The issue with the Dark Lord's presence in Harry's mind didn't leave me any peace. It is too strange, even with all the relations we have discovered today."

Having seen Severus Snape grow up, Albus knew the man enough to know that he had indeed found something important. Something he himself had probably overlooked with his worry over his adoptive son.

"When the Dark Lord decided to... create an heir of his own, he must have still be able to feel, regardless in which twisted way these feelings manifested themselves. But, I suspect, that the separation from his son, the only person he had probably ever loved, had driven him to the insanity we know from him. It most likely had also increased his fear of death and it would even explain why the Dark Lord did not recognized Harry as his son these past years."

Albus nodded slowly, Severus had many valid points.

"Many means to increase our lifespan, are only temporary, like the drinking of unicorn blood, or the drunk of the philosophers stone. You need to consume these fairly regually to continue your immortality, a dependance the Dark Lord would never have allowed himself."

Severus made a short pause, before looking back onto the once more sleeping boy next to them, before continuing:

"However, there is one way which would be convenient enough for him. I am sure you have heard of them before..."

Albus eyes suddenly widened in realization. How had he not have thought of them? Severus was right, these dark magic would not make Tom dependent on any potion or other substance and, when something had gone out of hand at the attack on the Potter's home, it would also explain Harry's strong mental connection to his sire. "Horcruxes," he breathed and Severus nodded. "Yes, indeed. And I am sure he created far more than one. Which also would explain, why he once wished so desperately for a son that he even agreed on a trade with demons and now holds no feelings for him. He is not able to any longer."

With a swift movement Albus had stood up and was now pacing back and forth in front of Harry's bed, silently muttering to himself. "Seven is the most powerful number in our world, for dark, as well as for light magic. If Tom created seven Horcruxes, it is no wonder that he holds no rest of the feelings that have made him wish for a son and a family to love and cherish... One has been destroyed at the confrontation in Godrics Hollow and..." he stopped, turned to Severus and said: "And Harry has most likely destroyed another one down in the chamber of secrets. That luckily leaves five more pieces of soul, I think enough to give him the ability to love back."

Severus, who still sat next to Harry's bed nodded again. "But with so less of a soul, Voldemort will not be able to reconnect with the Horcruxes. If we are lucky, he will die alongside Harry, if we are unfortunate, only Harry will die and we still have to deal with him."

Albus started to pace again, his mind going 100 miles a second. "What we need is a link between the piece of soul residing in Tom's body and the others. But I think only a piece which has not been separated from him for too long will be able to... a piece, which can still remember love..." He saw his Potions Master's eyes wandering over to his adoptive son. Of course, Severus had figured out the solution already, otherwise he would not have come to him.

"I believe, Harry has this piece of soul," Severus said.

Albus gave a curt nod. Harry indeed hold most likely the solution to their problem, but to free a Horcrux from it's vassal, the vassal had to be destroyed. Coldness creeped around his heart, squeezing it painfully. He had sworn that he would not sacrifice his son's life for this war, but as the things stood right now, he could let Harry die in vain, or with a purpose...

"Stop your foolish thoughts, old man," Severus suddenly snapped, effectively pulling him from his thoughts.

"I have not come to you, because I have found no adequate way to solve this issue. I know how much you Gryffindor heart is attached to that boy," the man sneered, but Albus only smiled softly and a shadow of the twinkle returned to his eyes. He knew, regardless of how much Severus Snape pretended to hate Harry Potter, deep inside, the man had a warm, soft heart which could never see a child seriously be harmed.

Severus pulled a very old, and frail looking scroll from his pocket, before explaining: "We are lucky that Potter is his son, otherwise these ritual would not work. I believe with this ritual the Horcrux would reconnect with the Dark Lord," he hold the scroll out for Albus, who took it carefully, before unrolling it. "The ritual of the true parent?" He read out loud.

"Yes, the ritual was invented by Salazar Slytherin. It was meant to save a dying child. As you know, illnesses and evil spirits and other magical beings often killed children, or injured their body, magic or soul so much that they often died soon after. But this ritual allows a parent to give rebirth. Harry's current body would die, whilst his soul and magic would be transformed into the Dark Lord's body to regrow. This way, his body would not suffer the effects of being without his mate-father for some time and regain it's former strength."

Albus nodded in understanding, before summerizing the rest of the ritual: "And when the ritual removes Tom's Horcrux, whilst harry is already inside his body, the piece of soul will most likely reconnect with him."

"I hope so," Severus agreed.

Albus eyes wandered to the bottom of the parchment and gathered the last informations:

Tom would carry his son for nine weeks, every week standing for an entire month of pregnancy. They only needed to hope that Voldemort would not find a way to abort his son. The ritual was supposed to have protective magic against any interference which could harm the regrowing child, hopefully Salazar had thought about evil, dark Lords when inventing these spell.

"Sighing, he went over to his son, grabbed now cold hand and said: "I think we should do this ritual this night, harry will not life until tomorrow, I fear. I will inform Minerva, Sirius and Harry's friends. Would you provide the necessary items for the ritual?" He asked, looking over to Severus, who nodded and stood up. At the door the dark man halted for a second, and said: "I will be here at ten to midnight, so that we can start at twelve."

Albus watched the door close behind the man, before his gaze wandered over the nearly lifeless form of the boy he considered a son. Life had always been harsh to Harry, and now this. Harry would surely hate him as soon as he would remember everything, and he would remember his past life, the ritual would give him his memories back as soon as he had reached his current age again. But he was willing to pay this price, as long as it meant Harry would survive.

Suddenly something moved behind Harry and when he looked up, he saw two black eyes staring at him, as if knowing that he was planning to do something to her Master.

"I will rescue him," he said and carefully padded his son's familiar's head. He wished he could talk to her and tell her that he had no plan's of harming Harry, but he unfortunately was not able to do so. With another sigh he stood up, before calling for Dobby.

The enthusiastic elf appeared immediately, but apparently news about Harry's state had reached him, because his ears hung and he sniffled silently as he asked: "What can Dobby do for Great Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"Please search for Minerva, Sirius and Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger and tell them to meet me in my office as soon as possible."

Dobby bowed and popped out without another word.

With a last look at his son, he left the Hospital Wing and made his way up to his office.

The Gargoyle let him pass wordlessly and Fawkes greeted him with a said trill upon entering, it was, as if every body would know that Harry Potter, the only hope of their World, would die this night, even the portraits along the walls looked gravely down on him. Sitting down behind his desk, Albus tried to not think that he would be the one murdering his own adoptive son. Sure, Harry would be reborn (if everything went right and he refused to believe anything else), but that still did not change the fact that his current body would die and he would be the cause of it.

Fawkes landed in front of him and he lifted a hand to stroke his familiars soft feathers.

He couldn't have told how long he had sat like this, patting Fawkes and deep in his thoughts about Harry and the future of their world, when it knocked at his door.

Sitting up straighter he called "Come in," and a moment later Hermione Granger was carefully sticking her head inside, before opening the door completely. She was followed by Ronald Weasley, who was carrying a Sirius (once again in his puppy form) and Minerva.

Minerva flicked her wand to conjure the set of chairs he usually provided and they all sat down. After a while, in which he had searched for a way to tell his son's best friends, his godfather and Head of House about the unsuccessful end of his meeting with Tom, Ms. Granger was the one who broke the silence.

"How did it go?" she asked with worry in her voice.

Shaking his head, he decided that directly would be the best way to go about it. "Not as I have hoped. Harry refuses to marry Tom, and Tom is set on binding his son to himself regardless the cost."

Minerva draw in a sharp breath, while Sirius' face fell even more, if possible, Mr. Weasley however, only took his friend's hand and asked: "But you have a plan to save him? Haven't you?"

He nodded slowly, before admitting: "I indeed have a plan, Severus helped me quite a lot with it, however, neither of you will like it."

"Is it... dark magic?" Minerva asked silently and the eyes of everybody seemed to sharpen as they all stared expectantly at him.

"It is a rebirth-ritual," he said in way of answering. Every small child knew that rebirth was always ever possible with the aid of the Dark Arts, because it always needed a living sacrifice; in this case, it would be Harry's body.

"Albus! You can not honestly consider this!" Minerva gasped, but Sirius quickly interrupted her, a determined gleam had entered his eyes. "Do you wish for Harry to be bound to the Dark Lord like a mindless puppet?" The animagus sneered and his deputy headmistress recoiled. Sirius, obviously satisfied with the reaction, turned back to him. "What will be the sacrifice?"

"His current body. The ritual we will use is called The Ritual of the true Parent."

Sirius gasped.

"You have heard about it before?" Albus asked curiously, but than again, the black library was very small in comparison to the Malfoy library, but much more specified.

"I have. And I know how Harry will be reborn. Are sure about this, Albus? I mean, as soon as you preform the ritual, we can only sit back and hope."

This was the point that still concerned Albus the most. Even if Tom would not be able to abort Harry, it still didn't mean that he would be a good carrier. Things like dark Magic, Alcohol and the wrong diet could all harm the boy and cost him a strong and healthy body. Still, he nodded. They would need to trust in Tom's wish to give birth to a powerful son, one he would probably want to use for his own goals and in Harry's resilience to fight whatever his father would force on him. "It is the best chance we have. One way or the other, Harry will die this night. We can only decide if we try to give him a second chance at life or not."

"Albus, I do not quite understand..." Minerva said and his son's friends nodded in agreement.

"Harry will be reborn by his biological father," he explained and watched Ronald Weasley's hand tightened around Ms. Granger's.

"Why?" the intelligent which asked, but her voice betrayed her frightened state.

"Voldemort is currently not able to love his son and save him, he is, however, not planning to simply let Harry die either. If we do nothing, he will bind Harry to himself with a dark bond, this night, and we all know what this would mean."

Ms. Granger paled and tightened her own grip on Mr. Weasley's hand.

Giving the gathered group a stern gaze, he continued: "What I will now tell you all, has to stay in this office. Under no circumstances is one of you allowed to speak to a second party about this," Albus gave the four in front of him a stern look and waved his wand to reinforce his wards, before continuing after they had all nodded. "To gain immortality, Voldemort has destroyed his soul to a point where he can not feel any emotion anymore. Whatever had driven him to create a son, he can not understand his reasoning anymore. However, Harry holds the key to heal his soul, it is in fact a small piece of Voldemort's original soul. Severus and I hope, by putting him into Voldemort's body that the soul-piece will reconnect with and give him the ability to also accept all the other pieces he has separated from himself, back. This way, Harry will live and our world will get another chance on peace."

For a short moment silence was the only thing heard, until Hermione asked: "But doesn't that mean, that... someone has to give V... Voldemort his soul-pieces back? I mean, he will surely not do that voluntarily..:"

"You are right, Ms. Granger;" Albus nodded. "But this is a matter for the future. First I will have to preform this ritual, than Harry will have to be born in nine weeks and grow into his current age."

"Does that mean we have to wait fourteen years to get our best friend back?" Ronald Weasley asked.

"Most likely that will not be the case," Minerva calmed him down. "The pregnancy will be shortened, I think Harry will age in the same speed, which would mean 14 weeks for 14 years."

"Oh..." Mr. Weasley said, before saying: "I really don't like the idea, but I want to loos my best mate even less."

Sirius sighed and than nodded in agreement. "I do not care about the other wizards and witches anymore, but Harry has deserved better," the man said.

"What are we going to tell the students?" Minerva asked with a shaky voice and Albus knew, that it was her way of agreeing to the plan.

"We already planned on telling them that Harry has come into an magical inheritance. In rare cases an inheritance can need weeks to fully unfold. We will however not give them any more hints, but let them come up with their own truth about what Harry has become."

Minerva nodded and so did Ms. Granger.

"Can we be there, when you do the ritual?" Mr. Weasley suddenly asked, interrupting whatever Minerva had wanted to say.

Nodding as well, Albus told everybody. "Severus and I will meat at ten to twelve in the hospital wing. Midnight is the most powerful hour for wizards, we will do the ritual than."

…

When Albus entered the Hospital Wing a few hours later, Severus, Sirius, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger were all already there and waiting. For once Sirius and Severus were only exchanging loathing glares, but not insulting each other, whilst the others only stared sadly down at Harry. He had sat in the same position most of the day and watched how his son's breathing got shallower with every second, until Poppy had once again put him under the Sleep of Living Death once again to guaranty his survival until midnight.

He had also made the announcement to the student body and gusts, and the reaction (as expected) had not been a good one. Wizarding flue could end deathly and somehow the Daily Prophet had managed to deliver a special edition about his son's illness, with the result that now the whole of wizarding Britain lived in fear about the future. It all only made it even clearer, how dependent they all were of Harry. He would set these worries to rest tomorrow, but not today anymore. Today, he would only concentrate on saving his ward.

The rest of the day had past with the studying of the long incantation he would need to recite later.

"Than let us begin," he said and settled next to his son. Poppy had already put the antidote for the Draught of Living Death on the bedside, but instead of picking it up he pulled out his wand and vanished the blanket and Harry's pyjamas.

"Please step back," he ordered softly and even Zaida slithered away, as if knowing that something important was about to happen. Sirius pressed the plush-lion he had given Harry earlier to his chest, his eyes unblinkingly fixed on the small and very haggard figure in front of him.

Severus handed him a slim, silver dagger and the bowl with Voldemort's blood. Of course, they could do this ritual with a strand of Tom's hair as well, but blood was the most powerful substance in their world and they wanted to give Harry as much help as he could get for this journey. He dipped the dagger into the blood, while Severus gave the boy the antidote and massaged the slim throat until the potion had been swallowed.

For a moment Albus thought, that the potion had not worked, because Harry still didn't seem to breath, but than he realized with horror that it had worked, his son only had major breathing failures.

"Quick," he said and his silent words echoed loudly in the deathly silent hospital room. Severus quickly flicked his wand again and seven black candles flickered to life, before floating around Harry's hospital bed. Without hesitating another moment, Albus started the latin incantation, lifted the blood soaked dagger and brought it down onto his son, piercing his navel, where Harry would now hopefully connect with Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Magic exploded around the dagger and he had to use all his strength to keep the dagger from being pushed out again, it needed to stay inside Harry until his body had died and the incantation was finished. He didn't look up once and instead continued to watch his son's chest raise and fall. For a moment Harry's breathing was once again normal as dark magic continued to swirl around them like a tornado. Than his breathing slowed down, first as if he was merely falling asleep, but than suddenly his chest rose higher than all the other times before, before his ribcage collapsed and his last heartbeat vibrated through the room like the beat of an gigantic drum. Severus had simultaneously dismantled the protective shields around the bad, and the pulse of magic spread through the room like a dark shockwave.

He finally let go of the dagger as if burned and stumbled backwards. Fortunately Minerva hurried to his side, or he would have stumbled in his current state. He had killed Harry, he had killed his only son, the boy he had sworn to protect with his life.

"Is he...?" Sirius silent voice floated over, but he couldn't answer.

"Albus, pull yourself together," Severus voice sneered close to his ear, pulling him back to the reality and to what needed to be done. Blinking a few times, he cleared his throat and looked back to the now empty body of his son, hopefully the ritual had worked.

"We should burry him now," he said and motioned to Sirius to pick his godson's body up.

"Where... shall we burry him?" Minerva asked, her eyes following Sirius.

Albus only could shake his head, he was not able to make any more decisions today. He had lived through many wars, had seen many things, but not once had he felt so helpless and empty.

"Maybe at the foot of the whomping willow?" Sirius suggested. "We can not give him a proper funeral, but his body would be protected there from any wild animals."

Nodding in agreement, he waved his wand and conjured Harry's invisibility cloak from his adoptive son's trunk. "Wrap this around him," he said to Sirius and handed him the cloak. The animagus looked for a moment at the dead body, before quickly covering Harry with the cloak and picking him up.

Albus unlocked the hospital wing and then started to lead them through the empty corridors with long, swift strides. The only light was the pale light of the full moon, because all torches had expired as if even Hogwarts was mourning the death of one Harry James Potter. Hopefully, they would soon see him again. And hopefully, Harry would still be Harry by that time, but it was out of their power now.

The front doors opened silently in front of them. In the distance Albus could see the shade of the whomping willow growing taller with every step. It's branches rustled threateningly as they got closer, but Severus shot a well aimed spell at it and the tree froze.

They all staid back when Sirius determinedly walked up to the entrance and made a hole in the earth directly next to it. They watched silently as the man pulled the invisibility cloak from the lifeless form of Harry and placed him carefully into the grave.

A muffled sob escaped Ms Grangers mouth and she buried her face into Ronald's robes, who was crying silently as well.

Having the feeling that they all needed some gesture of goodbye, Albus waved his wand silently and a white rose appeared in everyone's hand.

Sirius looked startled for a moment, before straightening himself and said: "I am sure we will see us soon again, Harry. You are strong, you always have been and you always will. And when you come back, I will wait for you and we will face all this unfair shit together, I promise, prongslet." He threw the white rose into the grave and Minerva stepped up.

Her voice was silent, but steady as she said: " "Harry, I know, regardless if it is Godric Gryffindor himself, or... or Lord Voldemort," her voice wavered slightly at the name, but she continued on like the brave lioness she was. "...you will always be Harry and always be a Gryffindor, never doubt that!" She dropped the rose into the grave as well and went back to the group with a straight back and a steely gaze.

Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger went up to the grave together, holding each others hands.

"I know..." Ms Granger started and her voice was tear filled "...this is no goodbye for forever. Sure, with Voldemort, we never can know for sure, but I can not believe otherwise, or it would break my heart. So I will wait, together with Ron, and I will make notes in all your classes... and... and when you are back, I will help you catch on again, I will not leave you alone, never!" Ms. Granger stepped nearer and her breath hitched slightly as she once more looked down on the dead body of her best friend. Ron followed her, laying an arm around her shoulders, before simply saying: "Se you soon, mate. And don't even think about dying for real, or coming back all evil!"

The two went back together and Albus eyes fixed on Severus, who was glaring down at the rose but than went to the grave as well. "I am sure you will grand me the pleasure of teaching in peace for long. In fact, I am sure I will see you even before your... friends do," he sneered, but his sneer was very weak and ended with a long sigh, before he as well, threw the rose into the grave.

Sirius lifted his wand and placed the pile of soil over Harry, blanketing his godson's first body for all eternity. "Can we not give him something? Something that reminds us and him of his first life?" The animagus asked, turning to face him.

Nodding slowly, Albus waved his wand once more, he himself wished for a sign that Harry had sacrificed himself for all their faits, because regardless if Harry had agreed to this, or would hate the way his second chance would play out in the beginning, he still would be thankful to be given these second chance and do it again when the need would arise.

His magic hit the trunk of the whomping willow and golden letters formed the words:

"Here lies Harry Potter, son of Lily and James Potter, Godson of Sirius Black and ward of Albus Percival Wulfric Dumbledore. July 31st 1980 – November 3rd 1994"

Beneath these lines stood the word "Rebirth," but the pace behind it was still empty. Still, it gave all present a sense of new hope. They stood there for a moment longer, watching the grave and the golden plaque, but as they finally went back to Hogwarts, their hearts were not as heavy as they had been before.

…

Voldemort flung the door to his ritual chamber open with such force that it crashed into the wall, leaving deep holes in the old stones. He had needed longer than expected to find the scroll with the right ritual, it had been decades since he had last studied it, but he would not settle on any other ritual.

The bond of the serf would shift his the cores of his son's life force and magic into his own body, giving him the complete power over not only the boy's power, but also over his death. It also would grant him the ability to draw on those powers, if he ever should be in a life threatening situation.

With a flick of his wand he sealed the doors behind him and with two long strides stood in front of the ritual table, before pulling a single, black stand of hair and his ritual dagger from his pocket. Somewhere in his manor a clock started to count down the last seconds until midnight, it was time to begin.

With a fluid motion he cut his right thumb, whilst starting to recite the dark spell and letting blood drop onto the hair. When he reached the final word, he thrust the dagger down, piercing the hair. Magic exploded all around him and spread like waves, searching for the one they should bind.

A low chuckle rose in his throat as he felt the powerful magic. Not even the old fool would be able to counter this. But his malicious joy changed suddenly into rage as he felt his magic pushed away by a second wave of power. The power hit him and a violent pulse made him gasp and clutch his sides. The other magic spread inside of him like molten lava and as it reached his heart, the organ stumbled once before settling back into his steady rhythm, feeling suddenly much heavier than before.

Still gasping, Voldemort leaned against the ritual table, cursing Dumbledore as the molten lava changed into a pleasant warmth and the strong pulse altered to a soft fluttering.

What had the cursed headmaster done?

Reaching out with his magic, he tried to assert what the old fool had cursed him with, but froze in shock as he suddenly recognized the patter in which the magic was pulsing inside of him; his prodigy. But this could not be possible, he had not targeted the child, but Harry Potter and even though the pattern felt familiar, the sickly pleasant warmth reminded him more of his cursed son. It only took him a second to comprehend what had been done to him.

"You have just signed your own death, old man," he hissed, before storming out of the ritual chamber. He would find a way to dissolve the Ritual of the True Parent.

Epilogue:

The Hospital wing lay silent in the silver moonlight. Nothing was there, which would hint to the events which had happened hear only minutes earlier, until something moved out of the shadows and stepped into the middle of the now empty room.

"We need to protect our Master," the shadow said, while his brothers and sisters stepped slowly out of him.

"He can not die, neither can he be used, we have to make sure of it."

"But how?" another shadow asked him.

"We have to give him an advantage, he will be reborn as a demon, but he can not look like it," he answered the other.

A collective nod went through the group, before they fluidly floated over to the nearest walls and disappeared from Hogwarts, leaving to search for their one and only Master.

libris (latin)= the children

AN: So, this was part 1 of the Devilish series. I hope you all liked it and will support me for the sequel. The sequel will be called Devilish Rebirth :-)

LPB