Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit.

Secondary Disclaimer: I have left no AN's at the beginning of this chapter, but there is a very long one at the end. I will not make a habit of that, but I would encourage you to read that one in spite of its length.

Acknowledgements: Thank you to my beta Umar, as well as Discord users Hedach and Yoshi89 for their help with this chapter.

Self Promotion: I have a discord server where you can chat and read all of my chapters early. If you would like to join, simply copy the link on my profile and for . I had to write it in that format for the site to allow it on my profile.

I hope to see you all there.

Beta Note:

Ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you on this journey of true greatness.

Recommendations:

Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin by The Sinister Man.

The Mind Arts by Wu Gang.

They Shook Hands Series by dethryl.

A Cadmean Victory by DarknessEnthroned.

Limpieza De Sangre by TheEndless7.

Harry Potter and The Dark Lord's Equal by ACI100.

"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

Parseltongue.

Memories/In Story Text.

"You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that…"

(J.K Rowling, Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone, 1997)

Harry Potter and The Ashes of Chaos

By ACI100.

Prologue: The Winds of Change.

October 31st, 1981

Godric's Hollow

10:46 PM

"Lily, it's her, run! Take the twins and go! I'll hold her off!"

Lily wanted to protest, but she knew it was the only hope for her two sons, the two things she loved more than life itself. Quickly, she scooped up the both of them and rushed up the stairs, barricading herself in the room above as she cast every locking and protective ward she knew upon the already barricaded door.

Meanwhile, downstairs, James felt the wards crumble as the front door swung leisurely open, admitting Lady Voldemort herself. She was unnaturally tall, standing several inches taller than James, who was almost six- foot tall himself. She was slim and had an angelic face with long dark hair that fell down her back. Her blue eyes shone in the light as she stepped inside, looking as if she were doing nothing more strenuous than walking the dog on a Saturday morning.

"Good evening, Lord Potter." she greeted, even going as far as to politely shut the door behind her.

James snarled and slashed his wand, sending a stunner at her at light speed. She merely waved her hand dismissively in the air, causing the spell to fly off course and smash into the far wall. James made to chain several more spells together but he wasn't fast enough. With a hand gesture that looked much like the swatting of a fly, James flew backwards, smashing hard into the wall and slumping to the floor in an unconscious heap. Voldemort sighed, what a waste of talent.

Back upstairs, Lily heard a loud crash and could only hope for the best. A second later though, she heard slow, leisurely footsteps as she felt something immensely powerful slam against her wards. She cried out in pain, doing everything in her power to hold them together, but it was not enough.

The explosion of magic caused by the collapse of her wards blew apart the physical barrier, and in stepped the Dark Lady herself. What horrified Lily perhaps above all else though was the fact that Voldemort did not even appear to be carrying a wand. She had bested James wandlessly.

"Good evening, Lady Potter." Voldemort greeted her, essentially repeating the introduction she had given James, though Lily did not know that.

"Please, not my children! Take me, kill me instead, but spare them!"

Voldemort simply shook her head. "You and I are both well aware that is not an option, Lady Potter. I give you two choices, for you have no wand and no way of even attempting to defend yourself or your twins. You can step aside and allow me to strike down your children, in which case I will allow both you and your husband to walk away unharmed. Tell Dumbledore, tell the ministry, whatever you like, the rest of your life is yours to do with as you please.

"Or, continue to oppose me now, knowing that your opposition will do nothing for your children, who would die in spite of your sacrifice."

"Go to hell!" snarled Lily, getting to her feet once more after being thrown to the floor due to the magical backlash of her wards being shattered.

"Lady Potter," tried Voldemort, "this is your final warning."

"I will never let you hurt my children!"

Lily thrust her hand forward, sending a wall of flames rocketing towards the very taken aback looking visage of Voldemort. They engulfed her and Lily almost cried out in joy. That was before they were snuffed out as suddenly as they had appeared and before Lily could do so much as look surprised, Voldemort's wand was aimed for the first time.

"Avada Kedavra."

Lily made to dodge, but her eyes widened in shock.

'How can a spell move so fast.' was her final thought before she was engulfed in green light.

As Lily's body hit the floor, the two boys in the crib behind her reacted for the first time. One of them began to cry, clearly uncertain as to the origin of the bright light, and doubtlessly wondering why his mother had fallen. This boy would grow up to be the spitting image of his father, with dark messy hair and warm hazel eyes.

The other boy also reacted, though he did so in a very different way. He put his small hands on the top of the crib and pulled himself to his feet, wobbling a bit as he did so. Instead of crying, he simply looked curiously up at Voldemort. His green eyes almost seemed to glow in the darkness, and Emily Riddle was reminded all too well of the curse that had just left her wand moments earlier. She could sense an odd aura of power emanating from the green eyed boy in particular, though the other child clearly possessed it as well. There was something different about him though, something that she could not quantify through words or thoughts.

Carefully, Voldemort stepped forward, scooping the green eyed child up into her arms and inspecting him with genuine curiosity, trying to feel his magic as best she could. It was lively, even at his age, it seemed to bubble just beneath the surface of his skin and Emily sighed as the boy began to shift uncomfortably in her arms.

"Shhh," she told him, gently stroking his raven hair in an effort to calm him, "it will be quick, I promise." she sighed. "Such a waste, you could have been such an ally, or perhaps even a worthy challenger, but no, the prophecy had different ideas for you, didn't it?" Gently, Voldemort placed a kiss on the head of the boy before lowering him back into the crib, straightening up with genuine regret.

She raised her wand again, taking aim at the green eyed child. Just as she did so, however, the other boy sprang up next to his twin, trying to shove him out of the way as he too looked at her.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The jet of green light left her wand and Voldemort would never know which of the boys it struck, for a second later, she felt pain like she had never imagined, pain beyond belief as she knew, somehow, that the curse had failed. She felt as if she was literally being ripped from her body, and only a moment later did she realize that was exactly what had happened. Her only cognitive thought through the haze of fury and agony was to escape this place, to run far, far away from the aurors, from James Potter and most of all, from Dumbledore as she awaited one of her loyal followers to find her.

October 31st, 1981

Godric's Hollow

11:29 PM

With a crack like a gunshot in the night, Peter Pettigrew appeared in front of the cottage in which his best friends lived. He saw that the cottage was in ruins, and if truth was to be told, he was not entirely sure how to feel about that. It looked as if it had been burning but had been recently extinguished. He had come at once, come as soon as his other work had allowed, as soon as his old friend, Evan Rosier, had contacted Peter, speaking of how his mark had burned more painfully than ever before. That was not the part that concerned Peter though. The part that concerned Peter was the mark itself. Rosier had stuck his arm in the floo for Peter to get a good glance, and it appeared as if the mark itself had faded from a vivid black to a dull grey on his arm, now resembling a muggle tattoo that had been exposed to the sun for years on end.

Peter was no fool. He was no Merlin with a wand, but he had always understood magic. He thought he knew what he would find at Godric's Hollow, but he had to be certain; he had to know what to do in order to proceed.

Peter quickly rushed into the home, keeping one hand on his wand. When he entered the room, even he was surprised at what he saw.

James was standing in the middle of it, looking for all the world like he was completely and utterly lost. When the door opened, James whirled around, his wand snapping up for a second before he saw Peter, and the man watched the fight literally seep out of his best friend as he seemed to physically deflate. "Oh, Wormy, it's you."

"J-James?" asked Peter, letting his surprise flow easily through his voice. "James, what happened?"

"Voldemort!" he spat, causing Peter to wince. "She-she came." He then looked at him for the first time, and Peter could now see how bloodshot the man's eyes were. He had only seen James cry once, and that had been the night when his mother and father had met their own ends at the hand of The Dark Lady. "L-L-Lily, she's d-d-d-dead."

Peter felt a mild stab in his chest for the woman. He had truly liked Lily, just as he really did like James, but friendships had to come second sometimes, there were things in life far more important than friendships. Survival, at least for Peter, was sitting comfortably at the top of that list.

Peter blinked several times, staggering backwards as best he could manage and slumping against the wall, letting his very real exhaustion at other events tonight seep through him. "No." he said quietly, looking at James with wide watery eyes, seeming to the other man as if he were imploring him to pull the plug on whatever horrible excuse for a joke he was playing.

James only nodded solemnly. "The h-h-healers are looking at them." he said softly, causing Peter to blink.

"Looking at who?"

"The twins." said James, prompting Peter to become legitimately surprised for the first time.

"They-they're alive? Both of them?"

James nodded. "I'm waiting for the call to be briefed on what they think happened, I-I was waiting here for Dumbledore and I couldn't just l-leave-" his voice trailed off, but Peter did not need him to finish. A split second later, an owl flew through the open front door, depositing a letter in James's hands. He took a deep breath and opened it, peering at it intently as his eyes went wide.

"What is it?" Peter asked him, doing his utmost best to sound comforting and concerned.

"That's impossible." breathed James, his voice completely flat.

"James," said Peter again, a bit louder this time, "what is it?"

"Charlus," he said, "he-he survived the killing curse."

This time, Peter's mouth really did fall open, his mind going completely blank with shock. "W-what?"

"He survived the killing curse. They think that's what destroyed her."

Peter couldn't believe it. He was not willing to allow himself to be certain of The Dark Lady's defeat. Peter always had to plan for every outcome, especially in drastic situations. If he planned for a world where The Dark Lady was no more and she returned… well, that would be a rather dangerous world for Peter. At the very least, it appeared, at least for now, that she had been vanquished. Vanquished nonetheless, by the very curse that had been supposed to bring her the ultimate victory she had desired for so long.

"He'll be a hero." Peter whispered, the gears turning inside of his brain. "He'll be famous, James. Every child in our world will know his name. They'll write books about him, they'll fawn over him, they'll bow to him."

"I don't know if I can do it, Wormy." James said softly. "I don't know if I can raise both of them without her. Especially not now with Charlus being-being-" his voice died again, and Peter placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Of course you can, Prongs," said Peter just as softly, "The Dark Lady is gone, there's no pressure."

"On that, my boy, I am afraid we must agree to disagree." said a familiar voice from the entrance, though it was more grave than Peter had ever heard it before.

"Albus?" James asked, still seeming to be completely and utterly lost.

"James," said Dumbledore heavily, "I am so, so sorry for your loss tonight. Only a small amount of people in our world can imagine the pain of loss. Alas, an even smaller number can truly appreciate the agony of losing someone whom you truly loved."

"Albus," said Peter carefully, trying his best to hide how interested he truly was, making sure that his Occlumency was firmly in place, "you said you disagree, with what exactly?"

Dumbledore sighed, looking pityingly at James before he spoke. "Lady Voldemort is, I am afraid, very far from finished once and for all."

James's head snapped up; he looked as if he had just been slapped. "But her body, it's upstairs-"

"Oh, I do not believe she poses any threat at this time." Dumbledore reassured him. "But I do not believe she is gone for good. She is, in what sense or form I admittedly do not know, very much alive. Likely very weak, likely without any essence of her powers, at least for now, but I am almost certain that she is alive."

"How?" asked James, his voice now carrying none of his earlier sorrow.

"Severus." Dumbledore offered gently, causing James to close his eyes tightly. "His mark has faded, though it is still very much present. If Lady Voldemort had perished for good, such a mark tied so closely to her magic would no longer exist at all. Of that at least, I am certain."

"Lily died for nothing." James bit out, his voice now carrying an odd note of danger.

"For goodness sakes, no!" Dumbledore exclaimed, his own eyes welling slightly as he stepped towards James, placing a firm, comforting hand on the man's shoulder. "Lily died in the only way a mother ever wishes to die — protecting her children, assuring that their lives would not end so soon after that of her own."

"W-what do you mean?" asked James.

"Sacrificial magic is one of the most powerful branches of the thing itself." Dumbledore explained. "Rivaled only perhaps, by intent and love. Lily had all three of these things tonight, and in combination, I believe that they served as the catalyst for your sons' survival. I also believe they will provide the child of prophecy with the weapons needed to finish Lady Voldemort once and for all."

'Prophecy?' Peter mused, internally.

"It's Charlus." James said flatly. "The healers think he survived the killing curse." James looked to Dumbledore. "What do we do? Should we train him? Prepare him for when she does come back?"

"Perhaps," said Dumbledore, "but for now, all you can do is assure both him and his brother Harry that their mothers sacrifice was not made in vain. They should know what happened to their mother, and they should know what she would want. A world free of prejudice and revolutions. A world where her sons could grow up safe and sound. A world where Lady Voldemort poses no threat at all."

"I don't think I can do it." James admitted, echoing his earlier sentiment. "Albus, I don't think I can train Charlus, keep him a decent human being with all the attention and bullshit he's going to have to deal with and still raise Harry on the side." he shook his head. "At best he'll hate his brother for all the attention he gets, and that'll be before I have to start preparing Charlus. At worst, he'll be neglected, not on purpose, but I don't want to chance it. I'll have to spend too much time with Charlus."

"James," said Dumbledore softly, "never underestimate the power of love. Those driven by it can do incredible things, things they would have never thought possible." If James was more perceptive, perhaps he would have noticed the same thing that Peter did, a rather odd, rather brief flash of… something in the old wizards eyes.

'Smugness — victory?'

"I-I don't know Albus." moaned James. "I-I really don't think I can."

Dumbledore sighed in what appeared to be sadness; he knew that James's mind was already set. "I cannot force you to raise your son, James." he said, his voice now heavier than ever. "I can advise you to do it, but I can not force you. There are, of course, others who would gladly take him as their own, but what of his heirship? What would you do about such a dilemma?"

"I would welcome him back into the family when he's older." James said forcefully. "When she's gone for good; maybe even earlier. Maybe when they're Hogwarts age; — I don't know, but I don't think I can give him the life he deserves, Albus, but I don't want him to hate me."

And that's when the gears clicked in Peter's mind, a plan coming into form that The Dark Lady herself would have been proud of. "Well, I think the solution's obvious." said Peter, sounding every bit as grave as Dumbledore. When he received nothing but puzzled looks, he continued. "If he is raised in the magical world it will cause problems, so why not have him raised in the muggle world? Sure, he might still resent you when he finds out the truth, but at least he would be at an age where he could potentially see reason." he paused as if to think. "Does Lily not have a sister? Could you not leave Harry with them? I'm sure they would take good care of him. He is family, after all."

James shook his head. "I'm not sure Wormy. Lily's sister was always jealous, even spiteful of her magic."

"I imagine a combination of time, and the shock of losing her sister will be a strong motivator for Petunia to turn over a new leaf." Albus theorized. "Peter's plan is viable. He could be protected there, protected by wards forged directly from the intent of his mother's sacrifice. Wards that I doubt even Lady Voldemort herself could penetrate." Dumbledore scratched his beard. "He would be raised by family, something that would only play into the magic protecting him. There is, after all, nothing more powerful than love."

James sighed. "I s-suppose it's settled then?" Both of the other two men nodded, both smiling internally for very opposite reasons, though neither showed the expression openly on their faces.

Only later when Dumbledore dropped the boy in question at Number 4 Privet Drive and noticed the unmistakable magic surrounding him did he know the true extent of the decision they had just made.

'This changes things,' he thought, running a hand through his beard as he did so, 'perhaps it is for the best that the boy grows up here.'

November 3rd, 1981

The Ministry of Magic

Courtroom 10

9:00 AM

The members of the Wizengamot were buzzing like feral bees as they awaited the beginning of the most groundbreaking trial that any of them had ever sat in on. From his spot at the podium, Albus Dumbledore wondered very much if he was going to have to stop any of them from cursing those on trial themselves, though in truth, he would be hard pressed to blame them, he could hardly blame them. Their actions were disgusting, and if he had not promised himself all those years ago that he would never strike down another, he would be sorely tempted to do so himself.

The minister, Millicent Bagnold, cleared her throat, snapping Dumbledore out of his stooper and causing him to bang his gavel hard on the podium to call for order.

"We must pass the motion to commence this most urgent meeting." Dumbledore said. The usually present twinkle in his eyes was absent, and his voice was softer and less jovial than any in the courtroom had heard it before. "All in favour?" he asked, causing every wand in the room to raise into the air and light up as one. "Very well, let the emergency Wizengamot meeting of November the third, nineteen-eighty-one commence." he turned to his left, peering at a rather livid looking Barty Crouch. "As Head of The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I believe it is you who shall take over from here. To you, Bartemius Crouch, I concede the chair."

Crouch nodded stiffly and stood, his jaw clenched tightly as he barked, "Bring them in!" to the two junior aurors guarding the doors. One of them disappeared for a moment, and when he re-entered the room, he did so leading a procession of beings.

Three wizards were led into the room, each having one of their arms clasped tightly by a tall, hooded figure that emanated an ethereal chill and a sense of dread that could not be ignored. Aurors in the plural flanked the procession, leading them into the circle.

Two of the wizards being led in by the dementors looked rather similar to one another. They were both tall and lean, well muscled, but in the way a long distance runner might be. Their hair was short and dark brown, and their dark brown, almost black eyes roamed casually over the audience, completely unphased by the waves of hatred that were being directed their way.

In the middle was another man. He too was tall and built in much the same way as the others, though he was more well muscled than the other two. He had rugged, aristocratic features with high cheekbones, pale grey eyes and long, black hair that flowed casually down his shoulders. He, like the others, seemed unphased, even going as far as to smile lazily up at those in the stands.

The three of them were led forwards and forced to sit in a chair that quickly bound their wrists.

"May we begin?" snapped Crouch, his eyes narrowing upon the three as he glanced towards Dumbledore, who nodded. "Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange!" he thundered. "You are being charged with affiliations to The Dark Lady who went by the alias of Lady Voldemort." Most in the courtroom flinched. Crouch, on the other hand, did not so much as pause. "On top of this heinous crime, you both are accused of the torture of Franklin and Alice Longbottom; an act that sent them to the long term care wing of St. Mungo's, where they are unlikely to ever return from." His voice dripped with venom that he made no attempt to withstrain, and many in the audience jeered at the three prisoners. "How do you plead?"

"Guilty." both men answered, not seeming to be overly bothered by the fact.

"Very well," snarled Crouch with a predatory smirk, "all in favour of life sentences in Azkaban?" Every last wand in the crowd lit up, and Crouch glared down at them as Dumbledore banged his gavel, making the motion official. "Very well," he shot a look at the aurors, "make sure that they are taken to the high security wing of Azkaban." The aurors nodded, and with the help of several dementors, the two were led off, ignoring the jeers of the crowd as they left, glaring up at Crouch with a look that seemed to promise retribution.

"Sirius Orion Black!" thundered Crouch once the crowd had died down, causing them to rise to new levels of anger. "You are being charged with the same crimes as the Lestrange brothers, with the exception of the Longbottoms' torture. In addition, however, you are also being charge for the murder of Marline Mackinnon and thirteen muggles in the streets of London on November the first, a crime that also violates the Statute of Secrecy. In addition, it is believed that you are responsible for betraying the location of Lord James Charlus Potter and his wife and children to The Dark Lady, how do you plead?"

Sirius Black just sat in the chair and did the last thing that any expected him to do. He threw back his head and let out an echoing, bark like laugh that took the entire courtroom by surprise.

"Is that all, Crouch?" he asked arrogantly, shaking his head with what seemed to be exasperation. "If I'm going to Azkaban, at least give me full credit for the work I've done to get there!" The crowd began to stand, furious at the pride that seemed to accompany his insinuations but Dumbledore raised his wand, conjuring a silver dome of energy around Black to protect him. He also shot off several fireworks into the air, causing the crowd to reluctantly fall silent.

"And," asked Crouch, seeming to spit every word at Black with murderous intentions, "what else is it that you have done, Black!"

"Some," said Sirius with an arrogant, rugged smile, "aside from sleeping with half of the women in this court, I was no mere servant of The Dark Lady. I was her honoured lieutenant, the one and only person who she trusted wholeheartedly." The crowd were screaming obscenities at him now, but Black merely laughed again. "Oh, and you think Malfoy and his lackeys were her valued followers? Valued above me?" he laughed again. "Malfoy and his puppets served The Dark Lady because of me." he smiled that same, arrogant smile. "No amount of money can protect you from the Imperius curse."

"Are you claiming to have placed Lucius Malfoy under the Imperius curse to serve The Dark Lady?" Crouch asked, looking a mix of shocked and furious.

"You sell me short again, Crouch," laughed Black, looking positively gleeful now, "Malfoy, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, McNair and," he smiled predatorily up at Crouch, much the way the man had done to his companions, "Barty Crouch… Jr."

The courtroom broke into mayhem as several curses did fly towards Black, though they all sparked harmlessly off of Dumbledore's shield. It took far more fireworks this time to have the court under control and Crouch was almost past coherence now, so Dumbledore himself spoke, his voice shaking with rage in a way that nobody had ever heard it do before.

"Those in favour of sentencing the accused to life in Azkaban?" again, every wand raised into the sky. "Motion passed!" he glared in a most uncharacteristic way down at Black, hardly daring to believe the man he had trusted and allowed into his order would commit such heinous crimes. "Take him away!"

"You think this is over, old man?" cackled Black as he was dragged to his feet, hardly caring that the dementors were gliding towards him. "This is far from over. The Dark Lady will return and your pathetic reign over Britain will be over. You'll be her first victim," he sneered, "first after the Potter brat, of course."

He said no more, choosing instead to laugh openly as he was led from the court by the aurors and guards of Azkaban, leaving a near riot in the courtroom behind him.

Chapter References:

Chapter 1: Prologue.

Chapters 2-18: Year 1: The Forsaken's Ascension.

Chapters 19-? Year 2: The Sacrificial Slytherin.

Author's Endnote:

This AN is ridiculously long, but future AN's will not be, I promise. Most at the end of a chapter will just feature a short comment or two and the release date for the next chapter.

If you have not read the summary, this is going to be a WBWL story, and will feature a female Voldemort who is not quite a carbon copy of Tom Riddle from the books. If this is a turn off for you, no hard feelings, but I would much rather you just didn't read it as oppose to bashing the story for something that I have spelled out quite clearly.

You will likely have to deal with Harry and the others being very advanced for their age, both in terms of dialogue and probably maturity as well. There is no way I can write a 100% accurate depiction of an eleven year old, as I literally spend none of my day to day life with anybody within even a few years of that age and quite frankly, trying to portray that in a perfectly realistic manner would greatly limit my options. I figured the best policy would be me being upfront and honest about that.

A very short chapter, likely the shortest I will ever write for this story. I am anticipating the chapters for this story to be fairly long, though not over the top.

I want to get one thing out of the way right now.

Just because I have labelled this as a "WBWL Story" does not mean that Harry is the BWL. It doesn't mean that he's not either, but the whole BWL matter is actually rather ambiguous in this story and will not be revealed until MUCH LATER, though I will of course be foreshadowing along the way. I simply chose to label the story as I did because it does follow many of the tropes associated with WBWL stories, even if I will have a rather different spin on them. This story will almost certainly total at well over a million words when all is said and done, so needless to say I have a lot planned.

Building on that, Charlus will not be an incompetent, hyperbolized personification of all that fanon has labelled as "the worst of Gryffindor house". He will have a rough introduction, but I am planning for a lot of character development where he is concerned, and his arc will be a rather wild ride to the finish.

Thirdly, I will be trying to write most characters fairly in character, at least when viewing their mannerisms. Their intentions may be different, as there is a lot more in play here than in the books, but my goal is to have Dumbledore read like Dumbledore, Snape read like Snape (sort of) and so on, so forth.

As for bashing, some characters will inevitably not be painted in the best light, but this story is actually quite light on bashing as opposed to most stories of a similar premise. I honestly don't think I'll bash any character more than lightly and at the very least, I can promise you that any and all bashing, limited as it will be, will not be over the top in its nature.

In saying that, there are a few characters who will be written very OOC, and I am sure you can guess one of them already. In this boat will be Harry. As I think is inevitable in a WBWL story, Harry will be extremely OOC in this fic. He will still have one or two of the qualities that we all loved so much in the books, but this is a Harry who actually reacts realistically to ten years of isolation, neglect and abuse.

In saying that, this is not a Harry who has had markings burned into his chest by Vernon or any such nonsense, nor will he be a socially inept eleven year old when he reaches his first year at Hogwarts, but there is absolutely no way that a child with that upbringing would not be effected; sorry JKR.

This story will start out a bit slow after this, even though I try to throw in at least one twist per chapter, but it will pick up significantly come chapter 7-8. If you don't like this story by the end of year 1, you should probably give it up.

Finally, there will be certain things that other fanfic authors have come up with that I will use, but I will ALWAYS give credit. Frankly, there are so many ideas out there that borrowing a couple is kind of inevitable, and I would be lying to you if this story and my style as a whole has not been influenced by other fanfic authors/stories. In saying that, I take comfort in the fact that I will not be blatantly stealing from anybody in terms of major plot points and the like, and that I at least have the decency to give credit where credit is due.

Speaking of which, yes, Pettigrew in this fic has been partially inspired by his portrayal in The Sinister Man's "Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin." In saying so, his backstory is completely different, and he is by no means a carbon copy.

More explanation on some other major events will be given periodically throughout the story, as well as some more clarification on shown events. I didn't want this chapter to be too large of an info dump, and I think it better to do it this way at any rate.

As for updates, this story is currently updated every Saturday at approximately 3:00 PM EST.

Please read and review.

This chapter was revised on July 4th, 2020 to smooth out some phrasing and update some formatting.