Would they hate him if they knew that freedom wasn't the thing he craved? They thought they were the same, but how could they be? Harry was far more deeply bound to his Master than they could ever understand.

Luck had never been on his side. So, maybe he would make some.

Harry loved Luna dearly. If he had to sell his soul to make sure she was happy and alive... Well, as far as he was concerned, it was a small price to pay.

After the war, they try starting over. It doesn't go as planned.

Sometimes, he wondered at his luck. He was alive, though he had no doubt that all his friends and family thought him dead. He was a Gryffindor, though, and he wouldn't give up. He would go back to them, no matter what.

Gellert faced defeat not because he was weak, but because he loved with a force far stronger than he was willing to admit.

The first time he ever felt like he belonged was when one of the most vicious Death Eaters known to the Order took him in. That bloodthirst, crazed Death Eater gave him a place to call his home. He might be betraying everything he had ever known; however, he wouldn't lie to himself: amongst these broken people was the only place he had ever felt true acceptance.

No matter what Sirius thought about his father, Orion loved both of his children dearly. If he could, he would give them the stars. Since he can't, he would be satisfied with making sure they had a life they could live and try and be happy.

When he turned ten years old, he was certain he would always be alone. Then, just before he turned eleven, he was proven that just like everyone else, there was someone out there for him. And Tom swore he would do anything in his power to protect them. After all, he had always been protective of his things, and was there anything more his than his soul?

Sometimes, you got involved in things bigger than yourself. This, well, this was one of those situations. Hannah would finish her mission because doing otherwise would damn everything they were fighting for. She would not fail her friends, her family. She was part of the Resistance and she would stand strong against the Dark, no matter what it took.

The prejudice Purebloods had against Muggle-borns ran far deeper than they had been lead to believe. The wound had been let to fester, infecting all those that came after. Centuries later, the Ambrogio Bloodline was once again ready to claim the Throne and set things right.

The betrayal from the Ministry wasn't a surprise. Harry took Teddy and ran. He ran until he could run no more, and then, he fell. He didn't know how he found himself in a creature society under the crust of the earth, but if he found a home for Teddy amidst all these creatures, then Harry would embrace this strange new society with open arms, even if it didn't do the same for him.

Life was a funny thing. Harry had always known that he would be fighting against Voldemort. Light against Dark. Epic battle against evil and all that. Strange how everything he thought he knew didn't come to pass at all. Muggles... who would have thought?

He never understood how people didn't grasp the beauty that came with a perfectly balanced equation. You gave something and you gained something of equal value in return. Simple. Balanced. Beautiful. If he solved this particular equation, he was sure the world would never be the same again, and if it granted him more time with his beloved, well, who was he to complain?

History has a funny way of being twisted and turned around that it might as well be a broken game of telephone. It goes from fact to fiction to myth as fast as a human lifespan, leaving behind nothing but cautionary tales. This is the true history before it became fiction and myth and a cautionary tale.

Magic was a wonderful thing. Magic was a terrible thing. Both statements were true. No one knew that better than Hermione. And her only wish was the wonder of Magic would never leave the heart of her best friend.

He, they, had sacrificed so much. They had bled, died, for them. So much hurt, so much loss. And for what? In the end everything remained the same. He was tired of it all. He would change it, he would make them change - and he would use the only thing they had ever understood: Blood.

Harry's descent into darkness started when he was nothing more than a child yearning for love. Year after year his light was chipped away until nothing but darkness remained. Poetry collection -six poems depicting Harry's fall.

Fear of losing more than he already had kept Harry hidden inside his little store, the counter serving as a shield from the rest of the world. It had been an efficient cage for the last fifty years. It was a shame that Tom Riddle never cared about such things as cages of one's own making.

Voldemort had always gotten what he wanted. This would be no different. There would be passion in his life once more, he would make sure of it and his favorite obsession would be the center of it.