His son was definitely of an odd sort, but then again, so was he.

Perhaps it ran in the family.

In his excitement to show his son their new home, he had almost run Bill over. The silly monkey still seemed out of sorts over it, and Harry had quietly decided he would stay out of the little fellow's way for a time, or at least until Bill's teeth stopped seeming so menacing. Seriously, it was scary what he'd seen those teeth do to the more unfortunate residents of his castle.

He'd taken his son to the doorway, though the silly boy appeared to want to stay there instead of coming over to his room. Not that he was pouting over it or anything, he was a future Dark Lord after all, and future Dark Lords do not pout! But sadly his son would not relent, seeming insistent on studying the shining lettings and orbs that roamed around the quiet hall. He supposed he didn't mind too much as it did give him time to take in his child more. He son was quite tall, and seemed like a giant compared to himself, even his pirate and guard couldn't possibly be so tall! His hair was extremely long as well, falling to the boy's ankles and making Harry desperately wish to play hairdresser. Though the only hair he'd ever cut was his guards once after weeks of pleading and well… it was more accidentally shaving it all of then anything else. His guard hadn't minded however! He even told Harry that he loved his new bald head!

What really caught his attention though in the case of his son was the wings on his back.

They were large and seemed to glow in their dark surroundings, but they also seemed like an illusion, being that they appeared almost see through. He sorely wanted to touch them, but wasn't sure on how the other would react. He chewed on his bottom lip, slyly looking over and seeing his child was still heavily engrossed in the random letters.

Maybe one little touch wouldn't hurt…

Oh.

Oh demons below.

They… they were…

They were fluffy.

They were really, really fluffy.

With that last thought he easily gave into his more childish instincts and instantly began to pet all the large fluffy feathers his small hands could reach, laughing and cooing all the while. He was sure he'd spent several hours simply playing with the soft feather's, something he would vehemently deny should his demon father ever come around to ask him. But truly, in his defense, he felt that even his father would be lost to such sheer fluffiness. Perhaps when he took over the world he'll make it a rule that going crazy over fluffy things was alright, no doubt his son would agree with him. He had after all let him play with the wings as long as he wanted to.

He really had a great kid.

Should probably think of a name for him soon though.

He paused, before looking up at his son's face. His child had long since forgone studying the letters, having given in to his commands of play and fluffiness. Narrowing his eyes he studied the shape bones and dark eyes that made up his son's face, trying to think of a good name that would match his child.

"I think I got it." He nodded to himself, feeling accomplished he smiled brightly at his child. "From now on, your name shall be..."

His son loved the name he'd received.

Really he did.

And no Bill you can stop laughing it's a perfectly respectable name, even Margret agrees.

Harry huffed before laying back done on his bed, ignoring Bill's laughter and instead colouring in a pretty daisy in his colouring book. His guard would be by soon, though he wasn't sure if he was all that excited for the visit this time around.

Lately his guard had taken to doing a funny light show while waving a stick all around him, almost like the men in dresses. Afterward his poor guard would always grow upset and make him drink these odd and frankly disturbing drinks. He thought they might need to brush up on their cooking skills a bit, since truly he didn't even know it was possible to recreate the flavour of moldy old socks until now.

If it wasn't for the fact that he knew his soon to be followers would never betray him, he would easily assume they were trying to poison him instead of obviously trying to improve their sorely lacking cooking skills.

Really, the things he did for his followers…

At least they were improving. Most of the drinks came in small glass vials and he could still vividly remember the horror of having to actually chew a drink. He was relieved it had only been once, for that terror was one that would be sure to haunt him.

He was more than fine with never finding out what exactly it was that he was ingesting. He was proud to say that he had an iron stomach, and would happily (or at least moderately happily) try the food his followers made for him.

Besides… no one had ever really made anything just for him before… so even if it did taste terrible… he wouldn't say no.

The treats that he was given after he forced those drinks down his throat were simply a happy coincidence. And if a hug or two was included well…

Who was he to deny his follower's wishes?

Not that he would ever ask for such a thing! After all he had an image to maintain! But as long as they were offering…

And so, with a put upon sigh he leaned against his pillow and waited for his two favourites to arrive, hoping all the while they would be bringing those weird edible frogs again.

It was always fun to catch them while they hopped around him, and they tasted incredible! Brown coloured frogs really were the best!

Omake

Regulus stared blankly at the inferi as he tried to figure out what exactly he should be doing.

Technically, he'd been dead for years; which in all honestly wasn't what disturbed him.

He had been happy when he first woke up, this was a second chance to right so many wrongs, and to help fix his world once more after the mistakes he had made in his past!

However… things didn't exactly go as planned.

For one, he no longer had magic.

And well… it was slightly hard to forget the fact that he was still apparently, very much DEAD.

Now, for both of these reasons most normal magicals would be losing their minds at this, but he was built of far sterner stuff; or at least had been…

His original magic was gone, as he had quickly realized when trying to mend his tattered clothes only to have nothing come from it.

He was still sitting in the island, soaking wet, and dressed in clothing that would make his mother blush.

He hadn't freaked out, after all it was perfectly normal for someone to faint than wake up, try to use their magic again, only for it to fail again and end up spending the next few hours curled up in a ball sobbing their pureblood heart out while a hundred inferi looked on with worried expression.

Some of them had even tried to cheer him up, but he sadly had to admit seeing them throw around their heads and hands around in a mock sport of some kind had just made him cry harder.

It was a perfectly normal reaction to get a tad hysterical over this! No reason to be embarrassed by what had happened whatsoever!

After all, he was sure everyone would break down if they woke up just to find out the only thing that they had ever truly cared about was gone.

And no, he did not want to hear how dramatic he was acting, he would save that for his brother.

It might come as a surprise that after finding out he no longer had magic, that the discovery of him still being dead hadn't really phased him all that much.

He wasn't dead in the technical sense of the word, but he wasn't sure what else you would call someone who didn't have a heartbeat and was no longer affected by things such as hunger or cold.

He was in short, very put out by all of this. He refused to consider the fact that he may forever be viewed as a muggle in the eyes of the wizarding world, after all, last he checked they still had heartbeats.

But then again, from the stories his brother would tell him, Muggles also enjoyed dressing in close to nothing while doing ritualistic seances where they would dance and bump up against each other until he swore they were in the process of consuming their unfortunate dance partner. So, who knows, muggles were strange creatures after all.

He sighed despondently, he was at a loss of what to do. The voice that had brought him back was getting fainter by the hour, and while he knew what it wanted him to do he was at a loss at how to go about it. Besides, he was still stuck in this cave, and had no way…

He groaned, feeling the embarrassment flood him in waves. If he could, he would probably be blushing.

How embarrassing.

He really was starting to question where all his so called intelligence had gone. He shook his head and spoke out the one word that would surely get him off this blasted rock, and finally bring him home.

"Kreacher."

And with that one word, he was both closer to his goal and father from it than he could have ever imagined.

Yet as his old faithful house elf embraced him and began to sob tears of relief and joy, he couldn't bring himself to care.

At least no matter what happened next, he wouldn't be alone.

Omake

Dark teal eyes stared blankly at the monument before him. He frowned as he took in the couple's smiling faces, before his eyes were slowly drawn to the child held in his mother's arms. The father appeared proud and gazed at his family with a loving expression.

It would have made for a heartwarming picture…

Were they not all dead.

"Well I'll just have to be your friend then, and that's that!"

He shook his head, his dark hair hiding his expression from view and sighed softly.

"You blasted little fool…"

The figure walked off, not sparing the monument another glance. The only thing left to show he had ever been there was a single white carnation.

A/N: Another chapter, longer then the other and introducing and reintroducing some interesting characters. Thanks for liking and reading this story everyone.