Headmaster Snape surveyed the unruly students as they gallivanted through Hogsmeade. They remained as they'd always been, full of laughter and curiosity. More than a few things had changed quite dramatically in the many years since the shift in the Dark Lord's plans for the wizarding world. The changes had been subtle at first, things shifting so slowly that most people did not notice.

Fliers for the Magical Defense Militia were scattered upon shop walls. Aurors stalked the streets, keeping a sharp eye on the wandering children. Magical children were considered to be extremely precious and so much more important whether muggle-born, half-blood or pure. The bookstores stocked dozens of periodicals dealing with fertility and family planning. Voldemort smiled up from the pages of the Daily Prophet, giving interviews nearly every month, keeping the wizarding world abreast of the Ministry's new agreements with surrounding nations.

The world had changed and yet no one seemed to notice.

"Good Morning Headmaster!" A cheery voice greeted from the across the street.

Severus turned to see Madam Rosmerta smiling in his direction. "Good Morning to you as well," he replied stoically and Rosmerta chuckled.

"C'mon in for a pint. I'm sure the little snappers can look after themselves. It'll warm you up."

"Perhaps another day," he replied. She waved him off with a laugh and then headed back into the Three Broomsticks.

A shop had opened nearly a year ago across from the Broomsticks. It was a coffee shop and bakery owned by Ted and Andromeda Tonks. Severus liked to stop in every so often for tea. Ted was usually not around, leaving Andromeda to manage things. Each day she appeared more harried and anxious, but would never reveal the source of her worry.

The sign in the window said closed, which was very odd for a Hogsmeade weekend. Most shops depend on these weekends for the bulk of their winter sales. Severus paused for only a moment before trying the door. It opened easily and he slipped inside.

"Andromeda?" He questioned, quietly at first and then louder. "Andromeda!"

Severus glanced around and noticed the place was in a shambles. Chairs and tables sat covered in dirty dishes and grime. At the counter the cash register was open and empty. He rushed toward the staircase leading to the upstairs apartment and nearly ran headlong into Andromeda as she descended from above.

"Severus!" She exclaimed. A large travelling bag fell from her left hand and the trunk floating behind her bounced against the steps.

"What is going on here?" He questioned. "You never said anything about traveling this winter."

Andromeda swallowed thickly. "Yes, well, it was a spur of the moment type of thing. Ted and I decided to leave the cold and snow for Cuba."

"Cuba?" Severus questioned, eyeing her with suspicion. The very idea that Andromeda would pick up and leave her beloved store to go to some far off country was just too far-fetched. "And where is Ted? Shouldn't he be helping you with those bags? And what of Nymphadora, I don't remember her mentioning anything about a trip to Cuba?"

Her eyes glanced wildly from left to right. "He's already gone ahead. I'm going to meet him there actually so I best get going." She moved to step around him, but his hand snapped out to grab her forearm.

"Andromeda, what in Merlin's name is going on here?"

That was all it took. The normally stoic woman burst into tears and nearly fell into Severus' arms. She grasped at his robes for dear life.

"You have to help me Severus. Ted left, he's gone to join the rebels. He wants me to go into hiding with him but I can't just leave Dora. What will happen to her once we're gone? What will He do to her?"

There was no question who she was talking about when she said 'He'. The Dark Lord would be furious. Andromeda was a Black and the idea of a Black defecting was unthinkable. Their daughter would be used against them, that much was certain.

"Calm down," Severus commanded the distraught witch. "Sit." He pointed at a chair and she sat without complaint. "Now, I will tell you what you will do. You will take your bag and go to your sister Narcissa. You will not mention that we had this conversation. Instead you will tell her about Ted leaving you and joining the rebels. She will, of course, inform Lucius who will then inform the Dark Lord. I have no doubt he will be interested in your story, it will make wonderful propaganda against the rebels."

Well-manicured fingers flew to Andromeda's thin lips. "O no!" She gasped. "But then everyone will know. The Aurors will be after Ted. I love him Severus, he is still my husband."

"And Nymphadora is your daughter," Severus ground out angrily. "She needs her mother, even more now that her father has abandoned you both."

Andromeda nodded in agreement. "You're right of course." With a long, shuddering breath, she regained her composure. "Thank you Severus, please look after Dora for me. I worry that Ted will seek to abduct her if he has the chance."

"I will look after her as I look after all the children in my care," he replied calmly.

The abduction of a student years ago still sat heavy in his mind. He hated to think back to that horrible day and the frantic search. The Dark Lord announced that her body had been found, but privately told Severus later that a search of what was left of Number 12 Grimmauld Place turned up nothing. Perhaps they'd never know what happened to Margaret Benson, the girl with the golden curls.

dSz

Leaves crackled and branches snapped as Voldemort strode confidently through the bright forest. He'd come to visit the Gorgons and to retrieve something that they currently possessed but which belonged to him. A hissing sound caught his attention and he paused. The Gorgons wanted to play.

Voldemort pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am in no mood for these games."

A chuckle echoed through the clearing and the Dark Lord fought the urge to reach for his wand. He knew he was in no real danger.

"So, you've come for what you believe is yours, but is it yours?" Medusa questioned as she slithered across the brown grass and dead leaves.

"I don't have time for this tonight. Where is the child?"

Medusa's eyes sparkled with mischief. "It is a bright, beautiful day, is it not? Where else would a snake be, but basking in the warmth of the sun's wonderful rays. The best rocks are at the river. I believe you'll find your Prince there."

Voldemort turned on his heel and strode quickly toward the river bank. It wasn't very far away, so he was there in only a few minutes. The sight that greeted him was not unfamiliar, but the hedonism of it still managed to shock the small part of Voldemort which clung to old-fashioned, pureblooded beliefs.

Harry had changed much over the years. The holly wand worked after he'd been given a piece of the Dark Lord's soul and magic came easy to the young boy. Dark spells rolled off Harry's tongue with ease, which pleased Voldemort greatly. Other changes were not so pleasing.

Since Harry's kidnapping he'd formed a distrust of not only muggles, but wizards and witches as well. There were a few exceptions to the rule. Severus Snape was still a welcome companion and he showed great respect to Lucius Malfoy, most likely due to the trust and respect the Dark Lord showed his second in command. All others were not to be trusted. Harry began spending more and more of his time with dark creatures, preferring the company of gorgons, vampires and werewolves to human interaction.

Voldemort's stories of the gorgons had captivated the boy, to the point of finding a ritual to grant Harry the ability to resist their power to turn humans to stone. Of course the ritual had been practiced first on a poor, unfortunate wizard prisoner. It had been a success and the man hadn't turned to stone, but the ritual did not save him from being torn apart by Medusa and her kin.

Harry had been introduced to Medusa and instantly the gorgon queen was enamored with the young Parselmouth. The boy was accepted with ease and soon spent many days gallivanting through the forest with the gorgons while Voldemort worked at the Ministry. Not that the Dark Lord was always so approving of the boy's activities while among the snake women.

"Voldemort," Harry called out as the Dark Lord approached.

The gorgons lay sunning themselves on the rocks by the river's edge. Harry lay naked among them, his bronzed skin glinting in the sunlight, black hair messy and wild. The boy's glasses were missing, having been discarded with his clothing.

Voldemort stood stonily as the child untangled himself from the slithering mass of creatures. Harry ran to him naked, appearing by all accounts as if he was a child who had been abandoned to be raised by forest creatures. Harry must have noticed his slight look of disapproval because a moment later the boy's robes magically appeared along with his glasses.

"Harry, why must you always be naked when I come to get you?" Voldemort asked.

The boy bit his lip nervously. "I like lying out in the sun. And what difference does it make, they're all naked." He gestured toward the group of gorgons watching from the rocks.

It was impossible to tell the ages of the snake women, since they all appeared as nearly exact copies of their queen. Each one had a snake tail, but from the hips and above they were definitely human in appearance with taunt stomachs and large breasts. Voldemort sneered in their direction causing them all to look away quickly.

"You are nearly eleven years old, much too old to be rolling around naked with a group of naked women."

Harry gave him a quizzical look. "Why?" He questioned.

"You just are," Voldemort huffed. "Now we must be going. You wouldn't want to miss out on your birthday surprise, would you?"

Harry grinned. "Of course not. What is it? Is it a Thestral? I've been reading about them and would love to try a ride on one."

Voldemort shook his head. "You'll just have to wait and find out, won't you. Now grab my arm."

The boy glanced back at the gorgons and offered a small wave good-bye.

"Good-bye young Prince," the gorgons called out in unison. "Happy hatching day!"

"Thank you", Harry replied politely. He grasped Voldemort's arm without hesitation and they both disapparated with a soft pop.

dSz

A cold spray of water hit Harry's face as they appeared at the mystery location. Harry wiped the water from his eyes and ran a hand through his now damp hair. His green eyes widened in awe as he looked up at the tall building in the distance. It was a dark, stone structure standing alone on a small, desolate island. Dark shapes swooped around the place, adding to its dark and frightening appearance.

"Azkaban," Harry whispered softly.

"Azkaban Prison," Voldemort announced, obviously not hearing Harry over the roar of the waves. "Home to the Dementors."

Harry was vibrating with excitement. Dementors had always held a special interest for him ever since he was a small child. Little was known of the creatures. Even the Department of Mysteries knew next to nothing of how they were created.

Voldemort was grinning down at him and Harry offered him a wide smile. "Can we go closer?" He asked and the Dark Lord laughed.

"Of course we can go closer, that's why we are here. I seem to recall a little boy who once asked me about the possibility of speaking to a Dementor."

"You remembered!" Harry exclaimed in surprise. So much had happened since then that he couldn't believe Voldemort recalled that particular conversation, it was so long ago. He was so overcome that he couldn't help but wrap his arms around the Dark Lord's middle in a tight hug. Voldemort ran long fingers through Harry's messy hair, causing the boy to sigh.

"Come along then, we don't want to miss our boat." Voldemort gestured toward a small brown boat bobbing in the surf.

The trip to the island seemed to take forever even though only a few minutes passed. Harry could hardly contain his excitement causing his whole body to shake and twitch. Voldemort finally grabbed him, holding him still so the boat wouldn't overturn before they got there.

A cold chill settled over Harry as a few Dementors swooped toward the boat. They seemed to be curious about the newcomers, but afraid to come too close. Harry looked up at the Dark Lord and was surprised to see his red eyes wary and alert.

"They won't attack us, will they?" Harry questioned, growing slightly anxious.

Voldemort shook his head. "They wouldn't dare. They are merely curious about our arrival. I have not visited the wizard prison in many years. Perhaps they think I'm bringing a particularly nasty criminal for them to feed on." Harry shivered in Voldemort's arms and the Dark Lord chuckled softly. "Don't worry Harry; you're always safe with me."

Except when I'm not, Harry added in his mind. It was a bitter thought that came to the front of his mind whenever the Dark Lord made these types of comments. A part of him still held onto his anger over his capture and torture at the hands of Voldemort's former supporters. Harry tried to push it away, but it was always there, buried in the back of his mind even after so many years.

Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who had tortured and belittled him to the point of near defeat. She'd broken out of Azkban with the help of her magic less husband. To this day no one, not even the Dark Lord, had figured out exactly how he'd orchestrated the great escape.

The boat jerked suddenly as it hit a small wooden dock. Harry's head fell back and his eyes widened as he took in the grim sight of Azkaban. The building was tall and it appeared to be in a state of advanced deterioration. If reminded him a corpse rotting in the cold, dank spray of the salty sea.

"Come," Voldemort urged as he glided down the dock to the entrance of the wizard's prison. Harry hurried along behind, one hand in his robes clutching his wand.

A guard nodded to them as they walked through the doorway. Voldemort didn't even acknowledge the man's presence as his strode on down the corridor.

"Where are we going?" Harry questioned.

"Down," replied Voldemort.

After descending down a flight of crumbling stone steps, they came to a stop outside a large metal door. Strange sounds came from within and Harry found his hand unconsciously reaching for the large dead bolt holding the door closed. Surprisingly Voldemort did not try to stop him and the door flew open with a loud crash. Harry's breath whooshed out of him as if someone had punched him in the gut.

Pale arms slowly wrapped around Harry's chest and warm air ghosted over his neck. He shivered in the Dark Lord's embrace.

"This is the second part of your birthday present Harry," the Dark Lord whispered darkly. "Do with it what you wish."

Bellatrix Lestrange kneeled prostrate before him, her arms chained down at her sides and her forehead resting on the ground. A small keening noise escaped her at odd intervals, reminding Harry of a wounded animal. Harry's hand trembled as he slowly pulled his wand from his robes. A million thoughts ran through his mind and his body slackened in Voldemort's tight embrace.

"You know the spell Harry," he whispered, splaying a hand across Harry's chest.

For a moment Harry wondered if the Dark Lord was casting some sort of spell. Surely any moment Harry's heart would burst from his chest to be held by the older wizard's long, pale fingers. He imagined it pulsing in the man's hand as the Dark Lord punctured it with sharp fingernails. Harry's head drooped to one shoulder, suddenly tired and exhilarated all at the same time.

Goosebumps formed across Harry's shoulder, following Voldemort's fingers as they slowly made their way down to Harry's hand, the hand where his wand lay. Harry felt his hand rise to point at the woman chained to the floor. Bellatrix Lestrange, ruler of his nightmares and fears. Would they all be wiped away with the obliteration of this phantom? His hand stopped shaking as Voldemort moved to hold his wrist.

"Give your hatred a purpose Harry. Use it against this unworthy witch. Unworthy of magic, unworthy of life, unworthy of your mercy."

"Crucio," Harry hissed and he felt Voldemort jerk in surprise, but the man did not move away. Harry knew the older wizard expected him to use the killing curse. "Crucio," he whispered again. The witch screamed and her body jerked. Harry didn't want her dead, he wanted her to suffer.

Suddenly he felt heat rise up from his magical core. It was a familiar heat that he knew to be a precursor to another painful seizure. "Crucio," he shouted. "Crucio!" A thick liquid fell upon Bellatrix, bursting into bright orange flames as it hit the woman's skin. Her body burned until only a pile of dark, black ash remained.

A guttural roar fought its way from the deepest part of Harry's small body. The rage within him was still there, burning like wood soaked in kerosene. His eyes shifted around wildly in an attempt to find anything or anyone to take the brunt of his anger.

"Harry," a strong voice called out. "She has been destroyed."

"NO!" He screamed, pushing away from the Dark Lord. Harry fell to his knees in front of the woman's remains. "I need…I need…I need…"

"She's gone."

"Aaaaa!" Harry screamed once more before pounding into the pile of ash with his fists. "I need more!"

Voldemort merely nodded calmly before turning to leave the room. A moment later the door opened and a woman fell through the doorway. She pushed up from the floor, looking around wildly.

"What is this? What's going on?" Her voice was unfamiliar, but her face was one in the same with the woman Harry had just killed.

"Bellatrix," he growled, leveling his wand at the frantic woman's chest.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm not her. I swear I'm not her."

"Crucio," he screamed. "Crucio." The spell came to him faster now and each one carried the flames of his anger. The woman was gone quickly, reduced to ashes as the real Bellatrix Lestrange had been. He took a deep breath and laughed.