AN: I of course, own none of this and it all belongs to JK Rowling. As in the summary this story is inspired by many others. No doubt there will be moments where you say, hang on I've seen something similiar. Well I think we've all said that for like, almost every story right? Pretty sure you'll see a lot of what inspired me in this story and if you go to my favorites you'll find it all. I in no way intend to copy or steal from anyone. Again I only am inspired and finally put thought to keyboard on the story that's been going on in my head. I hope someone at least enjoys this with me and if not well, whatever floats your boat y'all.

Prologue

It was a cold and dark night as the Dark Lord walked down the crowded street. The children paid no mind to the man dressed in all black with his hood drawn over his pale face, it was Halloween after all. Tall clouds hid the moonlight, or else the children's laughter would have turned to screams at the sight of his blood red eyes. Moments passed, and he finally reached his destination: a small cottage hidden from the village by the most powerful of charms, but not from him. Even to this very moment the irony of the situation threatened to evoke laughter, one that might have stopped all the commotion on All Hallow's Eve. Through the window he could see the old man and woman, a child in each of their arms. The Potters had eluded him for many years and their son and that mudblood wife of his had thrice defied him already. It was a trend that tended to anger him more and more as their names passed through his closely guarded mind. His only regret was that the son and mudblood would not die tonight, but they would meet their end soon enough.

He was at the door in seconds and blasted it off its hinges. Old as he was, the patriarch of the Potter family wasted no time in defending his family. The woman had taken the children and fled upstairs, but he was in no hurry. None would leave tonight alive. Charles Potter was powerful indeed, and tonight was no exception. He had long held the Wizengamot in check and even his most loyal Death Eaters cowered in fear of the old Light wizard. But he was no Death Eather, he was Lord Voldemort: He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Not a word was spoken between the two wizards and yet powerful magic engulfed the small home. If a muggle would have been able to look inside the small, hidden cottage they would have assumed a fool had unleashed a pile of fireworks. Flashes of light sped pass bouncing off shields or whizzing by the two men. Neither were young, but they moved with the grace of one who knew power, and when to unleash it. Their furious battle was drawing to close. The Dark Lord loathed to admit it but the old Potter was forcing him to unleash all his power until at last the old man's wand was blasted away, splintered into pieces. Charles was panting heavily, and still not a word had been spoken. He rose high on his knees and locked eyes with him defiantly. He would not die a coward, and even the Dark Lord admired him in that moment, and at last broke the two men's silence.

"Avada Kedavra." A flash of green light filled the home and Charles Potter fell to the ground dead. A stair case led him upstairs and to the right where two bed rooms filled the floor. He could hear the restlessness of the children and he entered the nursery, wand at the ready. Dorea Potter nee Black waited for him, the two children behind her in a crib. One began crying at the sight of him, but the other stood, almost defiantly reminding him of the old man he had just slain.

"You will not take them." Her voice was firm and held no fear. There would be no begging tonight. The woman born of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black did not beg, nor did she cower, but she was no match for the Dark Lord.

"Move aside woman," he commanded, "You have no need to die tonight."

She seemed to stand even taller, as if gathering her magic to her. "You will have to kill me."

"Move aside woman!"

"No!"

"Avada Kedavra!" She fell much harder than her husband, but she was dead nonetheless. The Dark Lord turned his attention to the very reason he had come tonight. The Potter children. The smaller of the two, barely a year old, had stopped crying as the older brother grabbed his hand. He could feel the power, and the undeniable strength of the older boy. Yes, Harry Potter was to die tonight, for there was no doubt in his mind that he was the one the prophecy spoke of. Lord Voldemort pointed his wand at the boy and victoriously said the words, green light flashed, and for the first time in so long the Dark Lord felt fear.

Harry had extended his hand as if the catch the flash of green and time seemed to stop. The moment the spell struck his hand a gold light emerged, encasing all three of them. Power unlike anything the Dark Lord had seen radiated from the two boys and he felt his body and soul being ripped apart. A scream erupted from his lips and the gold light at last exploded, leaving the nursery in ruins and the Dark Lord gone.

It was disaster that greeted the three wizards. An anguished cry came from one wearing glasses as he saw his father's dead body. Another one close to his age stood dumbfounded, unsure of how this could have come to pass. It was the oldest of the trio that walked the slow steps to the nursery, fear gripping him of what he might find, but it was to his astonishment that he found the two young boys alive, though fast asleep. Harry was holding the younger boy, Thomas, and not a single hair on their heads was harmed, save for the red lightning bolt scar that was engraved onto Thomas' head.

Albus Dumbledore sat with patience and yet a grudging sense of duty as he waited for the Potters' arrival. It had been a month since the fall of Lord Voldemort. Many of his Death Eaters had been captured, including the Lestranges after the brutal attack of the Longbottoms, yet some had managed to worm their way out. Peter Pettigrew, the man who had betrayed the Potters, was still at large and due to the man's ability to transform into a rat it was highly unlikely he'd ever be caught despite the efforts of his former friend, Sirius Black. He was saved at last from his musing as James and Lily Potter knocked at his door.

"Enter." James Potter was a tall man, with black hair that never seemed to lay flat and hazel eyes that had often charmed the ladies of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in his youth. He had become an Auror, doing everything he could to fight the good fight against the Dark Lord and his followers. Lily Evans stood about a head shorter than James, with long red hair and green eyes that seemed to understand you no matter what had happened. A charms prodigy, she had helped protect many families during the hectic past years. Thankfully they had listened to him and not brought along their children, for the conversation he wished to have involved them and would not be easy.

"James, Lily, thank you for coming," Albus began, "I wish it was better circumstances that brought us together."

"What do you mean Professor?" James asked with obvious confusion. "Voldemort's dead and we've nearly got everyone involved."

"That is indeed the crux of the matter my boy," he hesitated a moment before continuing, "I have done much research into what happened to your sons, and while I still cannot fathom what has happened there are two things as of now I can be sure of. Thomas Potter is indeed the Chosen One, the mark on his forehead fulfills that part of the prophecy."

"Well that's great!" Lily interrupted, but Albus could only shake his head.

"Note dear Lily, that I said the Chosen One, for the prophecy has not been completed. Voldemort still lives. And he will return." Silence greeted him and he expected nothing less. He had to take advantage of it now, before they came to their senses. "Thomas will need to be trained, he may have great power or he may be the average wizard, nevertheless he will be the one to defeat Voldemort when he returns and he needs to be ready."

"What of Harry?" Lily asked still dazed.

"Ah, young Harry," Albus took another moment again, letting the lie sit on his tongue before continuing again, "Whatever happened to him has drained him of his magic and his is little more than a squib. And this is where I fear you must sacrifice much for the greater good of our world."

"What would you ask of us?" James asked carefully.

"Harry will grow up around magic. I will assure that rules are bent to ensure that we can begin training Thomas at a young age. Unfortunately, I fear that eventually Harry will come to be envious of his brother and the magic for which he was robbed the night Voldemort attacked them. We cannot afford to have Thomas distracted by such things, when for all we know Voldemort could return tomorrow. I would ask that you leave Harry in the care of your sister, Petunia. Let him grow up believing he is a muggle and he will be much happier and Thomas will have less distractions as he grows older."

Again silence met him before the explosion of rebuttal.

"What?!"

"You want us to abandon our son?! Never!" Their angry denial continued for a minute or two before the raising of Albus' hand quieted them. As he lowered it he cast a small but strong compulsion charm to lace into his words.

"I understand this is difficult," Albus said, already noticing the faint signs of the compulsion setting in. "Perhaps when Harry is older you can reunite with him, when the threat of Voldemort has passed." The two were silent for a moment as if pondering before they both slowly nodded. Albus smiled a hidden smile as they laid out the last of his plan. Now that the older child, though not truly a squib, was out of the way he could train Thomas for the role he would one day play in the war to come.

Phineas Nigellus Black had never said that he was a good person, well the imprint of that person agreed with that statement, and the fact that Albus had used a compulsion charm did little to bother him. He was well aware that the person who had lived years ago would care less about the muggle-loving Potter family, but he was not one to skive off learning the ancient families! Dorea Black had been his granddaughter after all with James Potter being his great grandson and so on and so forth. While he did not agree with their blasphemous views it did not make them any less part of the Black family, though admittedly a very disappointing part. The portrait felt what was akin to sadness, or whatever an imprint could feel, and he brooded in his chair. The other paints had avoided him steadily the past few days, so it was surprising when he felt a rather deep pull, as if he was being summoned. Phineas turned his head slightly and suddenly was staring at the Sorting Hat. It stared at him for some time, silently, until the old Headmaster's patience was worn thin.

"What do you want, Hat?"

"Godric speaks to me," the Sorting Hat said softly, his words seeming to reverberate in the empty office. "The child, Phineas, he must be saved."

"What would I care?" The old portrait replied. "He's might be the last Potter with enough blood to be a Black, but he's a squib!"

"Did you not hear me, old man? Godric commands it. The boy is no squib."

"What?" Hushed whispers from the other portraits floated around the room. "What did you say?"

"Something draws the boy's magic, Godric says. Even now, it is killing the boy," the old hat of Godric Gryffindor spoke solemnly. "I know not why Dumbledore has sentenced this poor child to die, but he must be saved."

"That blistering fool!" While Phineas had no real magic, the tip of his wand was firing off red sparks. He contemplated going to his portrait at 12 Grimmauld Place and telling the young Sirius Black of what had transpired, he was the boy's godfather after all. But the fact that he was a portrait did not make it any less clearer to him that a compulsion charm had been used on the Potter parents and a strong one at that. Sirius was too much in the grasp of Dumbledore to help, the boy would be recaptured and returned to the muggles. No, someone more secretive, and by far more Black was in order to save the child.

"Cassiopeia! Cassiopeia!" The portrait shouted as he slid into his third hidden frame. It sat in one of the more secret Black family homes in Berlin, Germany. Forsaken during the second muggle world war due to the threat of Grindewald it had been nearly forgotten by many, save for the last remaining member of the Black family besides Sirius. Cassiopeia Black has been born shortly after the first muggle war and had loved the German culture. Like any other Black she was trained and schooled on how to be a proper British witch, and her little black book proved it, but she had always found her way back to the German home, where her second little black book thrived. While her family had nearly been wiped out by the Dark Lord she had built herself up a place in Germany that many would kill for. If only she had someone to pass it along to. Being nearly sixty years old made finding a suitable husband difficult, let alone the thought of child bearing. The death of her sister made things even more depressing at the moment for the Black woman.

The portrait had been empty for some time, so the shouting voice of her grandfather came as a rather shock and for the moment made her forget her troubles. She glanced up from her little black book and stared expectantly at the portrait.

"I've just came from Dumbledore's office," Phineas panted, which was hilarious considering he wasn't even a real person, "That old manipulative man has finally gone too far. Too far I say!"

"And what has the old coot done now?" She was interested of course, but her grandfather's portrait coming to complain about the headmaster was all too common, well until recently. He had come to tell her of Dorea's death and not came back. There had been many times she had wished for him to visit and when he finally did she wished with all her heart that he hadn't.

"Apparently they intend to train the Potter boy everyone is calling the 'Boy-Who-Lived,' and yet they intend to dump the other one, Harry, on muggles!"

"What?!" Cassiopeia nearly screamed. That boy was blood! Never had she in her life heard of such a thing and yet here it was plain as day. The Potters, these muggle loving and so called Light family, were about dump their son away? Not even the darkest of dark families would do that! She nearly growled out her next words. "And why would they do this?"

"They have clearly been place under a compulsion charm and made to believe the boy is a squib, but that is not the case.," the portrait said heatedly, "Godric spoke to me, through the Sorting Hat. The child is no squib, but something is draining the child of his magic. The Hat seemed to insinuate that Dumbledore knew of this, and has sentenced the grandson of Dorea to death regardless. Something must be done, Cassiopeia. It would be futile to try to free James and Lily of the old man, but the boy himself could be saved."

"I agree grandfather, I agree." A plan was formulating in her head and she had already begun compiling the things she need. She grabbed the little black book that held everything she needed to know about Britain and scanned through it until she found the address. Yes, this could work. "Where are they taking the boy?"

"Number Four Privet Drive, over in Little Whinging." Cassiopeia gave only a nod in acknowledgement before she started the brewing. The boy would be at the home and was going nowhere soon. She could not act too rashly, this had to be perfect.

A small pop echoed through the street in the small magical community just outside Paris. Cassiopeia's black hair was caught up in the wind, but she made no mind to fix it, she was too focused on her goal. It had been nearly a week since she had heard of Harry Potter's fate and now everything was ready. She needed the boy, but she needed someone else too. It didn't take long for her to find the flat she was looking for, the simple protections helped keep the idea that no one important lived here, but Cassiopeia knew better. She knocked politely and waited as she heard the light foots step come to the door. It was the middle of the night and she was not surprised to see a wand pointed at her, but the one who held it hardly looked like the person she knew.

Regina Malfoy had long beautiful blonde hair, at least it had been. Now it looked frayed and greasy, as if the girl hadn't showered in days. Her blue eyes, which normally shown brightly were dull and seemed to be almost graying. It had been well known the young Malfoy had been seeing her great nephew Regulus, but apparently his recent death had hit the young witch harder than she thought. The shock at seeing her lost love's great aunt was clear on her face and she seemed at a loss for words.

"Regina I hope you intend to invite me in, it is the middle of the night after all."

"Of course Miss Black, of course." She hastily opened the door and seemed as if she wanted to curtsy but decided against it. Cassi took the moment to glance at her surroundings and found herself incredibly disappointed. Not only had the girl failed to take care of herself but the flat was in disarray. It only increased her belief that her plan would work. She sat herself on the lone armchair and signaled for Regina to sit across from her. Cassi took a moment to collect her thoughts, allowing Regina to attempt to smooth out the dress she had worn today, and apparently had been sleeping in too.

"I see the fall of the Dark Lord has suited you well," she started sarcastically, noting the flinch at his mention which was just another reassurance. "Regulus will be missed by all, and yet his death may serve us well, including you."

"What do you mean?" The hurt that had passed on her face at the mention of Regulus was undeniable, but her curiosity won out quickly. She wanted a distraction and Cassiopeia was fighting a grin.

"I'm no fool girl, you wished with all your heart to be the wife of Regulus Black, and to bear his children. Now I'm giving you that chance." Regina looked as if she wanted to speak but the Black woman cut her off. "The older Potter boy has been forsaken by his family, and those blasted muggle loving fools have done the unthinkable: they've dumped him on the mudblood's muggle relatives. Black blood runs in his veins. I will not see this happen without a fight."

"What do you intend to do?" Her attention was caught like a fish on a hook.

"We will travel tonight to Little Whinging. We will take the boy back to my home in Berlin. There I have a brewed a highly illegal blood-adoption potion. It will change everything about him. Even more so considering your blood will be involved. And the blood of Regulus." Cassiopeia had always been a paranoid sort, and blood made a powerful ingredient in many potions. She had long ago instructed Kreature, the Black house elf, to bring her a vial from every living member once a month. It made a rather grotesque collection and yet the bounty she was about to reap made it all worthwhile.

"So," Regina began after recovering from her shock, "The boy will practically be my son? And Regulus'?"

"Yes, in everything. He will look like your child and considering you will help raise him will make it all even more believable. Once he takes the potion it will be as if Harry Potter has died, and your son will be born. You've been in hiding for quite a while, it will be believable that he is your son and that you refused to rejoin society considering his father's status during the war." She left out the part about the boy's draining magic. First she would save the boy from the muggles, and then she would discover what was happening to him. Regina looked on the outside as if she was weighing the option, but Cassiopeia knew differently, one look at the girl's eyes gave it all away. A change of clothes and the two had left not knowing that everything soon was about to change.

Cassiopeia had wanted to kill those muggles, and upon hearing freak the first time it had taken every ounce in her being not to use the Cruciatus Curse on the lot of them. Only Regina telling them that they were taking away the freak under the cupboard and hastily leaving the house had kept her from killing them. They had arrived back to her home shortly after two, the potion was ready save for the blood it required. A sleeping spell had kept young Harry asleep but soon the boy would wake and his memory needed a lot of changing. The boy was two but no doubt he had some memory of the past two years. But first, he needed a name.

"What shall be the name of your son Regina?"

"Aries Orion Black," she did not hesitate, "It's what Regulus would have wanted."

The Black woman nodded and felt a swirl of pride for the Malfoy girl. Cassi entered the boy's mind and slowly she began changing things, replacing faces here and there and removing the incident with the Dark Lord entirely. After the potion was taken the boy would already know Regina has his mother, and he would be a true Black. She could feel something though, as she left the boy's mind, a darkness that seemed to pull even at her. The boy's dwindling magic was noticeable and she had already began a mental list of what she could try to reverse it.

The house elf brought her the potion and the most recent vial of Regulus' blood. It was three months old, but a preservation charm made it fresh and the fact that it was recent would add to the success of the potion. A few drops and the potion glowed before turning a slight blue. Now it was up to Regina. They had spoken of this already and Regina wasted no time pricking her thumb, allowing drops of blood to drip into the now pinkish potion. Another glow and the potion turned a pale grey. It was ready. The fact that this potion did not have to be taken willingly was one of the two factors of why it was illegal. The second being that once it was taken there was no antidote, and no way to ever know that it was taken.

Cassiopeia slowly lifted Harry's forehead back, feeling the until now unnoticed lightning bolt scar identical to his brother's. She ran her finger over it again to be sure of what she felt for only a moment before she poured the potion down his throat without a second thought. The reaction was immediate, just not the one she intended.

Magic, pure and raw radiated from his body forcing away everything from him as he glowed in gold. Then other colors flashed: red, gold, silver, and green twirled about the room as the boy began to scream. His facial features began to change and they both heard the cracking of rearranging bones as they were pushed against the wall. At last a red and gold griffin erupted from his body while a silver and green snake joined it. They fought each other, neither gaining ground as magic continued to pour from the boy's body. Cassi stared straight ahead, fixed upon the battle until they seemed to join in the middle. She could not name the creature that stared her down, but it disappeared back into the boy's body before he fell to the ground.

Neither moved for what seemed like an eternity. Then suddenly the boy gasped and searched the room frantically for a moment before his eyes landed on Regina.

"Mummy?" the boy croaked. His eyes looked around the room taking in the destruction. "Did I do this?" The poor girl had teared up when the boy called for her and didn't seem to be able to speak. The boy, no Aries she reminded herself, looked the picture perfect of a young Regulus and yet the Malfoy look was there. Nothing remained of the Potter boy before, save for the small green flecks Cassiopeia noticed in his eyes. There was something else there too she thought, something foreign that she couldn't quite place. She reached out into his mind, and was comforted knowing the his subconscious had not rejected his change in identity, but then she noticed it. The darkness was gone, as was the pull on his magic. The boy's power radiated from him and she had never felt a child, even up to the age of eleven, as powerful as Aries' felt.

Regina had finally regained her senses and rushed to the boy, wrapping him up in her arms as tears flowed freely. Cassi gave her head a shake and took out her wand, a diagnostic spell already on her lips. Aries was in perfect health and the paternity test came back as she expected. It was then that the power she had felt was confirmed. It was everything else that shocked her to core. Again and again she cast different spells, always receiving the same results. Items throughout the room started to float and the giggle reach her ears was pure joy. Aries waved his hand, and everything stopped. Then she felt it again, that pure and raw magic. Aries' eyes seemed to glow, the green specks becoming more dominant as he waved his hands again causing the items to continue to swirl. Suddenly Regina's tears turn to tears of joy has she spun the boy around. The two laughed as if it wasn't the first time.

The boy had regained his magic. Not just that, but he was powerful! Powerful enough to one day challenge Dumbledore, and perhaps return the House of Black back to prominence. Slowly another plan began to form in the mind of Cassiopeia. As she looked at the joy of mother and son, she only wished the Potters knew just exactly what they had caused leaving that boy on the doorstep of Number Four Privet Drive.

AN: Next chapter, A Nature of Conflict.