Prologue

Halloween, 1980

Godric's Hallow

The night was cold, colder than any other had been that year in Godric's Hallow. Middle of autumn was rarely truly cold in British Isles, but it seemed that a perpetual gloom and a sense of darkness had settled over Great Britain. Still, it didn't stop children from enjoying Halloween, but their parents were more tense and worried because of all the disappearances that had been occurring all over the country. This was part of the gloom — hearing about someone dying or someone found missing practically every day was taking its toll. Thankfully no one had disappeared from this little village. Such a disappearance would have been noticed quite fast — this village was so small that everybody knew everybody and these tense times meant that neighbours looked more closely than usual.

But there was one house and its inhabitants that had slipped the notice of the villagers. The house was on the outskirts of the little village and was hidden by magic from prying eyes. Usually a black haired bespectacled man, a beautiful red-headed woman and a baby with black hair on his head and green eyes that shone with happiness could be seen (or couldn't, in this case). This night something was different — a man with longish black hair and stormy grey eyes was in this little homey cottage with the little green eyed child. The young man was quite obviously very fond of the young child he was making funny faces at.

"Harry, smile for me?"

Sirius really loved his little godson — the child had him wrapped around his little, chubby finger ever since Sirius had first held him. All he wanted to do right now was continue playing with this little boy. However, this wish to play with Harry was overshadowed by his mother's instructions of a strict bedtime. Lily would have Sirius's head if she found out that he had kept Harry up longer than he should have. He had finally settled into a schedule and Lily and James had decided to get some much needed alone time, but the strict instructions for Sirius showed that the little boy would be on their mind.

"Come here, little one. Time for bed!" Sirius reached for Harry and was just about to pick him up when a noise at the door startled him. Sirius knew that Lily and James wouldn't be home for quite a while yet — this was their first evening out since the little tyke was born. He straightened, took out his wand and cautiously moved towards the hallway to which the front door opened. However his slow calculated steps turned into a run when he heard an explosion.

What he saw in the hallway almost made him pause, but the first spell was on his lips immediately. It didn't hit and was swatted away as if it had been an annoying fly. However it gained Sirius a precious second he needed to assess the situation. He only had one opponent, but Sirius would have taken three of inner circle Death Eaters much more gladly than this one man. Voldemort.

Sirius fought with everything he had — his and his godson's life was at risk, but Voldemort's superior skills and much higher power level shoved almost immediately when a cutting curse slipped past the younger man's shield and cut a deep gash along his left arm — his dominant hand. Soon Sirius could no longer keep up and another cutting curse lost him his balance. The hallway was in a sorry state — full of debris that had come to be when Sirius had dodged a hex that would have turned his internal organs into a bloody mess. When the cutting hex from Voldemort hit, Sirius tried to step back, but found himself tripping on the debris.

"The proud Black family scion not so proud anymore." The hissing voice provoked Sirius to try shoot off another spell and he was happy to see it hit. Blacks weren't a family to make fun of, even if Sirius hated most of his relatives. Some of the pureblood pride had left its marks on him and the nifty family magic that he had had access to had saved his life more than once. It was not strictly light, or Sirius a completely light wizard, because, for him, a spell that helped to save a life was worth using, as long as it wasn't meant to torture — some lines he wouldn't cross.

The spell that Sirius hit Voldemort with was a curse meant to disrupt a person's magic and he used it as a last resort — if he wouldn't be there in the future he could at least make it harder for Voldemort to kill. Sadly, he knew that it wouldn't help him — the spell's effects weren't immediate, but Sirius hoped that it would help Harry. A hiss from his opponent was all the warning Sirius had for the next spell headed his way. Sirius's injuries were not life threatening but crippling enough that he had no chance to get out of the way of the next spell.

"Avada Kedavra"

That wasn't the last time that these two words were said in that house in that night. The first time had let the crying of a baby be heard after the sound of the duel had blocked it for some time. The second time left the house quiet.

Eerily quiet.

Halloween, 1980

London

James and Lily Potter were sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant, but the seemed to see little of their surroundings — their eyes were practically always on each other.

"I'm glad that we could get out of the house for a bit." James's words provoked a lift of eyebrows from his wife of two years.

"You know what I mean Lily." But right after the words came out of his mouth he paled.

The red headed woman didn't get to answer because James jumped out of his seat suddenly and ran towards the door while saying the wards had been breached. Lily ran after her husband almost immediately. She was almost ready to apparate right from the restaurant directly, but the knowledge that a dark alley was right around the corner allowed her to keep odd occurrences to the minimum for the muggles seated around the tables.

It wasn't long until Lily and James were able to get to Godric's Hallow, but by then it was already up in flames. James had to hold his wife back because the few remaining wards let him know that nobody was alive in the house. Tears started streaming down his cheeks even while his wife was fighting against his hold. Soon both of them were sobbing and hugging.

March 17, 1981

Wales, Potter Manor

Lily opened her eyes and saw an off white ceiling. Sometimes she expected to see the sky blue ceiling of her bedroom in their house at Godric's Hallow and everything that it had meant. Her son in the room across the hall. Her husband next to her and his smile the first thing she would see in the morning (he rarely smiled these days). Sirius coming over to stuff his face with the food she would cook and playing with his little godson until Lily had to scold him to hand over the child. Only thing she hated about those days was the chubby, timid man that they so readily had called a friend, a friend that had betrayed them.

Lily's musings were cut short when she smelled the breakfast that the house elves had prepared. Usually the smell was delicious, but this morning it made Lily incredibly nauseous. The distance to the bathroom almost proved to be too great, but she made it.

After she was done she rinsed her mouth with water and went into her bedroom again. James was halfway awake, but when he greeted her she didn't answer. As if in a daze she reached for her wand and waved it in a complex pattern over her stomach. A symbol made of white light appeared over it and slowly turned red.

Only this seemed to break her out of her reverie, but she managed to say only one thing before going back into her daze.

"I'm pregnant."

March 21, 1981

Ottery St. Catchpole, the Burrow

Molly Weasley was a formidable woman. After giving birth to six sons she would have to be. Her eldest, William, or Bill as he was often called was ten years old and couldn't wait to be off to Hogwarts. Charles, or Charlie, was currently eight and wouldn't leave his older brother alone even for a moment, which resulted in more than one fight. Her four year old Percival, or Percy, was in the phase where everything was a question that needed an answer. Thankfully he had found an old picture book and was absorbed in it, but Molly was sure that he was about to find something to ask about. The twins Fred and George who were just shy of two would be called terrors by anyone else — they always managed to sneak off and break something. Ronald, or Ron, was currently the youngest, being just a year old. Right now his strong attachment to an old chess piece was the only thing that gave Molly a pause, but Molly was sure that he would find a way to give her grey hairs soon enough — he was a Weasley after all. Besides, Molly was sure that her sixth child would not be the last one and where there is a younger sibling to corrupt there is trouble. She was currently four and a half months pregnant and as happy as a mother could be when she hadn't had a quiet moment in months, years even. A scream sounded from the kitchen as if to prove her right.

The scream did little to startle her, but she couldn't help but rush towards the sound anyways, being used to sounds like these she knew that at least one of her children was very upset. Because of this she didn't watch her steps as carefully as she should have. She tripped and started falling down the stairs. She felt as if falling in slow motion and tried to turn herself in a way that would let her protect her unborn child, but her tumble took a violent turn and she fell headfirst down the stairs.

Molly Weasley's last thought before blacking out was about the scream that she had heard moments earlier — she hoped that everybody was fine. A day later she would wake up and find out that all six of her children were fine. However, there would be no seventh brother or first sister joining them — ever.

April 25, 1981

London, Diagon Alley

Alice Loongbottom was on duty on Diagon Alley. She would have loved to be home with her son and husband, but Voldemort, the self stylized lord, had declared a war against those supporting muggle and muggleborn rights. This meant that every able bodied auror was on duty as often as possible. Sometimes this meant sitting around the auror office and waiting for a call about attacks just to arrive at a place that was already destroyed. Sometimes the aurors arrived in time to save someone, but not often. After the attack they had to dig through the rubble for survivors (Death Eaters rarely left buildings standing), visit the relatives of those that died and try to find something to identify the attackers.

Other times being an auror meant standing around for hours and be on alert at all times. On the lucky days, nothing happened. This resulted in her returning home cold and often wet, but happy that nobody had died. On bad days attacks happened.

Alice was about ready to end her shift and mark this day as one of the lucky ones, when she heard a series of pops, signalling arrival of a large group of people. The young auror didn't need a lot of time to see that this group was not friendly — the black cloaks and white mask pronounced loud and clear who they were and what was their purpose.

Alice whispered: "Expecto Patronus" and thought about the moment when she first held her little Neville. A silvery bear formed from the mist she had conjured.

"Diagon Alley. Thirty Death Eaters. Anti- Apparition wards. Use portkeys."

With barely a thought the bear flew in the air with much more grace than any real bear could manage.

With the message sent, Alice started moving towards the black figures. She knew that the other two aurors scheduled on Diagon duty would have already started to secure exits. It was up to her to keep Voldemort's minions distracted. So she didn't wait to shoot a spell at them. It was a basic blasting hex, but packed with more power than usual. It hit the cobbled street about half a meter from two Death Eaters. They were immediately thrown back by the blast.

For a few moments the view was obscured, but it didn't deter Alice for a moment. She shot three spells off before the Death Eaters started casting. They were as blind as her in terms of seeing the target and the spells went wide — Alice at least had multiply people to shoot at. Some Death Eaters also seemed to be shooting towards their comrades and from the sound of it they had much better luck hitting each other than Alice.

Finally, someone managed to create a breeze and the dust was blown away. Immediately the Death Eaters started advancing towards her. They were fewer in numbers now, but one against twenty was only a little better than one against thirty. So Alice went for cover behind a table on the veranda of an ice-cream shop. For a few moments the table held, but plain wood was no match for thirty Death Eaters, so Alice was soon in the open again. What she saw when she came out of her cover made her insides freeze over. Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the worst Death Eaters to face.

Alice froze for a moment and hesitated — the absolute worst thing she could have done — and Bellatrix shot a spell at her.

"Fecunditatis Amissa" Alice had no time to dodge or duck the spell. It hit her right in the stomach and knocked her down. She felt excruciating pain around the area that the spell had hit and started to black out. Half conscious she heard words that chilled her to the bone.

"No more blood traitors from you..."

June 4, 1981

Wiltshire, Malfoy Manor

"Young Draco will be a year old tomorrow, won't he?" The shrill voice of his wife's aunt grated in his ears, but Lucius Malfoy was nothing if not patient when money and power were involved. Walburga Black's visit was an almost certain prelude to a transfer of power between Black and Malfoy families. Ever since her husband had died Walburga had been in charge of the family business, but the name of Black had been losing its power bit by bit over the two years since one Orion Black had died. The situation had worsened after the deaths of the last two scions of the direct Black line — the Black family, once so powerful, was now only few years off from complete extinction. At least the Black surname was. Lucius Malfoy hoped that the money, assets and the political alliances would be passed onto the Malfoy line. His wife, after all, was a Black by birth.

"He will be that." A smirk that could be interpreted as proud in bad lighting, but was actually very conceited if seen in sunlight showed on Lord Malfoy's face. "He has already shown bouts of accidental magic." Lucius left it at that — he let Walburga think of the implications of the words for a moment. Malfoy line was secure — completely opposite of the situations Black line was in. Put the future of the Black in my hands — those were Lucius's thoughts on the subject. He would be chanting those words aloud if he didn't think that it would serve no purpose in gaining what he wanted. He settled for linking his fingers together and looking at Walburga over the ornate table.

The room they were in was meant for work and didn't show the wealth of Malfoy family in the obvious ways that it showed itself in other rooms. Here it was displayed in the subtle grace of furniture and crystal beauty of the glasses arranged on the mantle of the fireplace. It was heard in the clear ticking of the large clock that stood by the door. The curtains were dark green and the quality was obvious, but somehow masked by the grace of the whole study. Put together the decor couldn't be called warm or even flashy, but to the kind of people that Lucius Malfoy worked with it was impressive. To Walburga Black they were just reminders of what she had come to do today — secure the future of Black line and name.

"When my eldest son was a year old I was already with my second child. After all, one child, or two even, can't be all that a line and name as powerful as Malfoy depend on. You can see in what kind of situation I am in and I had two sons." Walburga didn't express any kind of emotion talking about her dead sons. Sirius had always been a problem child and very little of her affection had bestowed on him, but Regulus was another matter. Her younger son had been the golden boy — following family ideals and even joining the Dark Lord in his campaign against the mudblood scum. However, something had gone wrong and here she was — childless mother that was about to use the carrot and stick method to force somebody to have a child. But Walburga Black was nothing if not pureblood to the very end and such a little thing as morals would not stand in the way of Black family's continued existence.

"I know you want to become the head of house Black, but it would not be possible. I know that there is a stipulation in the rules that you, as the head of Malfoy house, have to follow and it is unchangeable — you can never have any other surname than Malfoy. There is also a stipulation in the rules for the head of the Black house — the head has to have the surname Black. It doesn't have to be the only surname that the head has, but it has to be passed on. This means that nor you, nor anyone can ever become the head of both these houses. I was not born yesterday and I know that that was your plan. But if you hope to gain anything besides money, like the debts owed and alliances sworn to the house of Black, you have to have another child that would take on the responsibility of becoming the head of the family upon reaching the right age. Remember Lucius, the day that the name of Black disappears will be the day all contracts with the house are terminated." Walburga knew that Lucius hadn't known about the rule for the Malfoy head of house — to Lucius it would only seem as a limitation to the power one could gain, but to those who had created the rule it would be a safeguard against the name of Malfoy being lost. Walburga could practically see the wheels turning in Lucius's head and felt obligated to add the stick to the carrot that she was already dangling in front of her niece's husband.

"If you do not agree, I will go to Andromeda who already has a daughter and whose husband is a muggleborn that has no loyalty to any other ancient house. I am sure that he would agree to change his surname and have another child — after all, he would have much more to gain than to lose in this endeavour. And before you say that I wouldn't do it, think what is more important to me — the power that the Black name is or the addition of fresh blood to the family? After all, more and more people have started to think that being too closely related to each other can be a bit unhealthy."

The words that were flowing from his wife's aunt's mouth sounded like a blasphemy to Lucius, but he knew what the right surname meant in the wizarding world and quite a few of the families would have no problems of accepting a muggleborn in their midst. Black name would lose some of the prestige that it now held, but it would go on and that would leave the possibility for rebuilding open.

"This is not a decision to be made lightly, Walburga." Lucius's voice was grave and it was meant to unsettle Lady Black, but she had lived a lifetime of politics and was no more unsettled by the tone than she had been by any of Lucius's previous words, which was not.

"Yes, it is not. I believe that you should talk to your wife soon. And remember, I am old, and Black name dies with me. The clock is ticking."

With those words Walburga Black stood and left Lucius Malfoy's study and left him alone in a room where the only sound was the ticking of the large clock that stood by the door. The hands showed that it was barely past noon, but a sudden tiredness swept over Lucius and his thoughts turned towards his wife. Narcissa can't have children anymore — having Draco almost killed her.