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-This chapter was revised on Feb 18th, 2019.

"Quite the astounding assemblage, Emperor James."

All merriment ceased. The ballroom, which had formerly been filled with the laughter and happiness of the masses, was suddenly filled with a chill that traveled down to the bones and lingered. The merrymakers all turned to look on in fright at the being who stood in the center of their hallowed hall. The being whose deadly crimson eyes were transfixed on the Emperor and his consort.

James Peverell, Emperor of Antoila and newly made father, appraised the being before him with a light sneer. He fought to control his expression lest they all know of his seething hatred and burning disappointment at the direction their joyful night was turning.

Lillian, empress consort to James, flitted to the side of their son's cradle, eyes trailing nervously from that Dark Lord to her husband. She didn't know why the Dark Lord looked so angered, but judging from the look he was sending James, she could extrapolate well enough. James had once again done something incredibly childish and now they had an all-powerful being angry with them!

"Lord Voldemort," greeted James with the barest hint of a nod to show respect. Lily would have his head otherwise. She had a pair of lungs on her that could pierce any eardrum.

Voldemort looked around, slitted crimson eyes trailing over every single person in the Great Hall, taking in more details than any could possibly hope to in the same amount of time. "I see many faces this night. Royalty, nobility, and the gentry." Voldemort's eyes even alighted upon the Light Lord, who stood not far off from the side of the royal family. "Even the dotty," he finished with a small sneer that betrayed what he thought about Albus Dumbledore.

James nodded stiffly, jaw working to remain in place. He must not lose his head in this. Not when faced with such a dangerous foe. Not when said foe made even Lord Dumbledore quiver in worry.

Voldemort's faithful familiar, Nagini, was curled around his staff. It equaled him in height and was as black as his robes, sometimes too easily mistaken with them if the lord stood still. Nagini hissed in agitation, saying that she wanted to eat soon. He shushed her, hissing his promise to feed her soon enough.

With fingers so graceful and thin, they appeared deceivingly delicate, Voldemort stroked dear Nagini's head, cooing to her and ignoring the worried glances of the masses. Parseltongue had always stirred up fear. Such delicious fear. It always made him elated.

"I was really quite harrowed to return from my yearly sojourn in the south and learn of the ball held in reverence of the infant prince, and find not one invitation awaiting me."

His voice was cool and calm, betraying none of the emotions buried within. But his eyes. Oh, they spoke of much and no one liked it.

Lillian gasped and whipped around to face her husband. "James!" she scolded.

"He wasn't here, Lily."

Lillian sniffed imperiously, something she learned from her dear friend Bellatrix, and glared. "It's still kind to remind him that we thought of him. And here I was labouring under the impression that you were the one raised to bend in accordance to polite society."

James sighed, hating it when Lily had to remonstrate him in front of company. He hated it even more because she was always right. But he was not going to give the satisfaction of allowing her to have this victory. Voldemort was simply… not good company to keep. He was Dark and twisted and Dumbledore had many a terrible thing to say about the man. The man who wasn't no longer a man. Something more. Something worse.

Lillian ignored the boorish actions of her husband and faced Voldemort with her head held high, even though her heart was practically choking her. "I dearly hope that you weren't offended, my Lord."

Voldemort eyed the woman with minute respect. It took courage to meet his gaze. Not only for the fact that he instilled fear wherever he went, but because he was capable of seeing into minds. Seeing the very thoughts within them. Though the kingdom merely assumed that it was a rumor, Dumbledore's propagating of it made them fear even more. Never mind that Dumbledore could do the same. Who would be terrified of a kindly old man rummaging through their minds?

He stared into her verdant green eyes, noting how she was magical, and would be powerful should she ever come into the possession of a focus. Her magic wasn't weak, just untrained. Her offspring might possess the same magic as she. Might have the same aptitude thrumming in his blood.

Voldemort easily saw the argument between the woman and her fool of a husband. It was at the forefront of her mind, so easily plucked at. James had not wanted to invite Voldemort, but she had forced him to make a promise that he would send an invitation. Voldemort saw exactly when James skirted around the promise. It was an easy enough requirement to fulfill, on one's own time and not within time for said Ball.

"Lady Peverell, 'tis by no slight of your own that my wrath has been kindled."

Lillian bowed deeply, allowing an uncomfortable smile to cross her mouth.

James gritted his teeth at them. Voldemort did not deserve respect. His sweet Lily was too kind for her own good.

"Lily, cease this nonsense. He is not worth your respect."

The gathered people gasped in horror, immediately moving away from the dais and further away from the Dark Lord who would no doubt not appreciate those words so rudely tossed his way. Mercy only went so far.

"A mere apology would have sufficed," said Voldemort in a cool tone, his wrath growing far stronger than ever before. He raised his staff and slammed it down, the sound startling everyone. "Emperor James Peverell you shall know suffering. The young prince shall grow in grace and good will. His kindness and charm will endear him to all with open hearts. But he shall find himself overtaken by Darkness and on the night of his seventeenth year, he shall prick his finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and fall into a deep, eternal sleep, where no mortal being shall ever awaken him. And you will watch as the years go by, unable to save your son. Your lifespan is forfeit and you shall die alone, in suffering and sadness until the very hounds of hell take you away."

Voldemort's voice reverberated, filling each and every one of them as his magic, a deathly green shade, rose from his staff and covered the cradle. Lillian cried out when the magic pushed her away. James gave an order for the knights to take Voldemort into custody, but the Dark Lord and his familiar were already gone with only chilling laughter left to echo through the Great Hall.

The moment the green dissipated, Lillian grabbed her child, noting instantly that the mark of the Dark Lord, rested high on his brow. His eyes, once the shade of Lillian's, now resembled the deadliness of the Dark Lord's magic. A sign that his curse was in effect.

Lily turned her angered eyes toward her husband. "Your shameful actions have brought upon the end of our son!"

James fidgeted, looking away from his wife, not wanting to see the pure hatred festering within her eyes.

"He-hem!"

Lillian looked up, seeing a bright white light hovering over her child's cradle.

The light dimmed, revealing a young woman who floated above the ground, large, blue wings sprouting from her back in shapes reminiscent of crescent moons. She had long, pale blond hair and silvery/blue eyes. Her voice was light and airy. Her dress white as it fluttered in an invisible breeze.

"I am Luna, young Hadrian's fairy godmother," she greeted, bowing before the empress consort.

Lillian gasped, hope surging fiercely through her veins, "Could you undo Lord Voldemort's fearful curse, Lady Luna?" Could she save her baby from an eternity asleep?

Luna frowned, shaking her head dejectedly. "No, but I feel that I can ensure that he enamours the one who can awaken him."

Luna raised her pale wand and intoned,

"Dearest Prince, this prophecy shall not end your reign,
The Dark Lord's magic binds you, but not to harm or pain.
You will indeed grow in grace, beloved by most you meet,
Your open mind and generous heart, will amaze many you greet.
And in the hour that Darkness will coddle you so near,
Shall your true love come to you and wake you with their tears."

Lillian bowed her head over her son as the pure magic from Luna washed over him.

The future… was set in stone now.

A/N: The first is done.

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