~Prologue~
The House of Potter
All was quiet in the house of Potter, on the eve of the children's return to Hogwarts School of Witch-Craft and Wizardry. Three trunks were packed with precision by Mrs. Ginny Potter, married now to Harry for many years. She was a fiery red-head that could curse and hex bad mannerism out of her small family, should the need arise. Mr. Harry Potter, once known as `The Boy Who Lived' was now known as the `Man Who Worked', and he sat there at the kitchen table eying the trunks uneasily.
"Harry?" Ginny said as she flicked the lights on, flooding the room with the soft white light.
"Did I wake you, Gin?" Harry asked quietly as he looked at her. She smiled and shook her head.
"Can't sleep again, can you?" Ginny inquired as she took her seat at the family table in the house in Godric Hollow. Harry rubbed his forehead absentmindedly with his knuckle.
"No," Harry admitted, looking a little agitated.
"Is it bothering you?" Ginny asked almost hesitantly.
"Yes, but…" Harry murmured.
"You don't know if it is because of true danger, or just the thoughts and rumors," Ginny offered. He forced a smile and nodded. She had a way of simplifying things.
"Surely, the rumors, the speculations… they can't be true," Harry said quietly. Thoughts swarmed in his head, buzzing like bees. He thought a moment more in silence before addressing his wife. "I mean, another Riddle? Seriously!"
"You can't believe that this Riddle child is, as the rumor goes, a direct descendent of Tom Riddle," Ginny said quietly. "Couldn't you just check? You know, look in the book of registry or something?"
"Not with all of the free-to-live activists swarming the ministry," Harry said almost crossly. "The fact that I was able to even confirm the rumor that a child with the surname Riddle would be gracing the halls of Hogwarts is a miracle in its own."
"Oh, Harry," Ginny said as she wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "His descendant, his direct descendent?"
"I know it sounds far-fetched, Gin, but what self respecting, sane wizard in the whole wide wizarding world would willing give their child the surname Riddle?" Harry murmured as he felt his wife's lips brush his neck. "Dumbledore told me that Voldemort would never actually depend on another wizard, would never rely on anyone, and never fully trust."
"When you say direct descendent, you men it," Ginny said. Harry nodded slowly, rubbing his scar that had faded greatly over the years.
"I think if it is true, then Riddle would have to be Voldemort's grandchild," Harry said slowly.
"Do you really believe he had a child, unbeknownst to anyone, who went on to have a child, as well?" Ginny asked almost scandalized. Harry shivered.
"I really can't imagine him having a moment of weakness," Harry said.
"He must have, because you killed him, Harry, when no one else could," Ginny said as she kissed his scar. "Should we tell the kids?"
"I don't know. I am sure that Hermione would say something about letting the kids decide for themselves," Harry started quietly. "However, your dear brother would be the first to point the child out and warn the kids to hex at will."
"Yeah, Ron can be a little over bearing sometimes," Ginny said chuckling. Harry rested his face against Ginny's arm.
"James, Al, and Lily will learn enough about what it means to be attached to a name quick enough. Hogwarts is safe, and who know? Perhaps it is just a rumor," Harry offered hopefully. Ginny nodded.
"Come to bed, Harry," Ginny coaxed, her hand held out to him.
"I'll be along shortly," Harry promised as he again focused on the trunks.
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