Chapter of a Lost Future

Summary: Sequel to A Second Chance. Diablos and the gang are back, this time for a last painful fight against a Dumbledore from a time when war the least of people's problems.

Pairing/s: None.

Warnings: Evil!Dumbledore, Gryffindor-bashing, siding with Voldemort-fic, time-travelling mentioned, violence and so on.

Plus you probably need to read A Second Chance to understand what the hell's going on.

Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter, but Diablos is kinda my own character. I morphed him into my own character. Plus I do own Salerna, his adoring wife Cissi, Orator and a few others.

The long-awaited sequel! Enjoy it!


UPDATED 2010-11-09


Chapter One

Somewhere in England

The night was darker than most, no light seen for miles beside the weak light from the moon. Suddenly, a wind. Not gentle caressing the high grass, no it was violent, like a storm at sea, ripping the ground up and then a light, so blinding you might believe a star had decided to crash right there, right at that very moment.

Four blinding lights rushing onto the ground, and all was silent once more. The wind quieted down, vanished, and the darkness once more took over. The clouds shifted, bringing the moon out more, and a gentle blue light was cast over the ground.

Now there are movements. One rises, grabs the other two, shakes them hard.

"Come on, we have to get out of here!" the first one hissed. "While he's still out cold!"

"Wha-? Where are we?"


The other two now up, they raced across the plain, away from the fourth. Now feeling panic yet contentment, one raised his voice:

"Which year? Which year did we land in?"

"Does it matter?" the first one replied. He was older. "Just let us get away before the Ministry comes or something!"

"We have to get to them, to him," the third one said, speaking for the first time. "We have to find Diablos!"

When dawn rose, so did the fourth one. Staggering up, looking around and then a wide grin almost cut the face in half. For safety, he took out his wand and swung it lightly; the date showed up and he looked around once more.

"I did it. I managed!" Laughter broke out, craziness mixed within it. The laugh of a madman. "The world shall be mine!"

A moment later he vanished.


Florence, Italy
Potter Manor

Sixteen-year old Harry Potter looked up from his book when Arsenic gasped from the second floor. A moment later, he met Hermione's and Draco's eyes over the brim of the book before he lowered it to his lap.

"Arsenic, are you okay?" Hermione called out a moment later.

Within a few moments, the woman was running down the stairs and stopped as she reached the ending, her eyes wide and she sucked in a deep breath just as the doors banged open to the library. The three teens whipped their heads there.

Odium, same condition, and the two stared at each other. Odium's arms trembled lightly, and the three teens wondered just what was going on.

"He's here," Arsenic suddenly whispered, a hand to her chest as if that would calm her racing heart. "He's here, oh god, he's here…"

Odium did not seem to find any words and neither did she; they just stared at each other some more and then, as if something cleared to them, they both gasped out:


Odium turned, ran for the stairs and Arsenic followed. Worried, Harry, Hermione and Draco rushed to follow.

They had been home for a week now, their fifth year finished and a whole summer before sixth year began. They had started easy, just being with each other and doing most of the homework so they could relax later. But now Harry felt anything but relaxed. There were few things that made Arsenic and Odium panic in any way, so he had to wonder just what they had felt to create that expression on their faces.

The five arrived at Diablos' office at the same time and rushed inside.

Diablos was not sitting by his desk, nor was he in the room. But the door to the balcony was open, and the long curtains moved softly with the warm wind. Harry was first out after Odium and Arsenic.

The man stood leaned against the railing, looking out over the land that belonged to Potter Manor. His black hair fell down his back gently, trickling down his chest and stubborn strands sticking up. The red eyes were clouded, the blue faded away for the moment.

"I know," he said before either of the two could open their mouths. His head dropped, eyes staring at his clasped hands. They were white due to the pressure and he eased up. "God, I know…"

"Know what?" Harry asked. "What's going on? Dia?"

"He's here," Diablos repeated. "The fucker's here. I can feel it even here. His magic makes my skin crawl… feels like I have ash in my mouth and fire in my lungs."

"More like fire burning through our veins," Arsenic said. "Hatred filling our cores."

"Who is it?" the teen said. Hermione and Draco held his hands softly but firm. He squeezed, seeking reassurance.

Diablos turned to look at him.

"Dumbledore," he said softly.

"Dumbledore? He's been dead for like two years," Harry said.

"Not… this time's Dumbledore," Odium said.

Arsenic looked at the children and gave them a weak smile.

"Our time's Dumbledore," she said gently.


A half-hour later Harry looked up to see Diablos rub his forehead, frowning and releasing a hissed breath. Worried, the teen got up and walked up to his uncle. Being a bit taller than the man, which still freaked Harry out occasionally, gave him a tiny advantage when he peered at Diablos' face.

"Do you have a headache, Dia?" he asked softly, hand resting on Diablos' that was covering his forehead.

"Yes," the man replied, knowing it was useless to lie.

"How bad?"

"Bad enough."

Diablos sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, realizing it was a waste of time to just stand doing nothing and walked over to the couch. Draco and Hermione had gone home for the day while Arsenic and Odium rushed away to get some things, leaving the two Potters alone in the manor. Tom was not at home, but Diablos suspected he would come soon enough and with a foul temper following. Tom, if anyone, would go crazier than he, Arsenic and Odium had done at the realization that their Dumbledore had managed to crawl here. If the former Dark Lord had the chance, he would probably try kicking the crazy old man down to hell himself.

He sat down and put his head in his hands. He felt Harry sit down next to him, gently massaging his uncle's neck. Harry felt the tension and moved his hands from being on the neck to the shoulders, kneading firmly and Diablos released a groan as the fingers dug into the knots. He let his head hang drop, elbows resting on his knees and his hands hanging.

After ten minutes Diablos felt boneless. He was lying on the couch, Harry holding an ice-pack to one of his temples and helping himself to some tea and biscuits Dora had arrived with.

"Not too many, it's just an hour to dinner," Diablos mumbled.

"Yeah, yeah."

"I mean it, brat."

"You don't seem very intimidating right now, Dia."

Diablos just groaned. He took the ice-pack from his nephew and pressed it down harder.

"That's not normal," Harry said.

"My head hurts," Diablos complained. "I can't decide whether to continue to have a headache or go ahead and just scream."

"I wouldn't recommend the screaming," Harry said. "It'll only jar your head, and make the headache worse."

"Damn you brat for being right."

"I'm always right."

Diablos only snorted.


A crash made Harry jump and he whirled around to stare at the door.

"Seems like Tom's home," Diablos commented, earning another whirl from his nephew and Harry's green eyes staring at him instead.

"Damnit! Fuck! Hell-spawn! I swear to Merlin, to the Muggles fucking GOD, I will KILL HIM!" Another crash. "I'll tear his tongue out!" A vase perhaps? "Then shred his arms down to tiny pieces of meat and feed it to stray dogs!" That sounded like one of those horrid paintings ripping. Diablos couldn't feel very sorry for that. "Hack of his legs with a butter-knife! And then his eyes, and carve out his heart with a spoon!" Hey, was that a Robin Hood; Prince of Thieves-rip off? "And the remains I will send straight to hell and tell the devil to have fun with!"

The doors banged open and Tom came in, hyperventilating. It came sparks from his wand, magic radiating off him in waves and his eyes nearly glowing. He flung himself down on an armchair and glared at the wall, jaw clenching and anger mixed with pure hatred radiating from him.

"Evening to you too," the raven-haired man said gently. "How was your day?"

"Fucking brilliant until he showed up," Tom growled.

"I do hope you didn't destroy the entire hall," Diablos said. "Dora would be most upset if you did." Meaning she would most likely try to cut his head off.

"Not that stupid." And yes, Tom was painfully aware what she would try to do. "Destroyed that painting with the ugly horse though; I always hated it."

"I bore no great love for it either, but it at least made it look less barren. I guess we have to go shopping for a new one."

"Then at least take a motif that looks good," he said and finally looked over at them. He blinked, some of the anger vanishing. "Diablos? What's up with the ice-pack?"

"My head is slowly being hacked open by a most stubborn creature armoured with preferably an axe or two," Diablos supplied.

"He has a headache," Harry translated when Tom looked confused.

"Why didn't you say so in the first place?" the former Dark Lord asked.

"Oh, I don't know… it sounded so boring."

Tom finally slumped back and let the wand drop. It clattered onto the floor, vibrated once, then lay still. He ran a hand over his face and sighed. Once his hair had been long but since a half-year back it ran short and spiky, a style surprisingly fitting. His eyes were still as blue, if not more and some say they shone in the dark. For now he was wearing simple black pants with a white shirt, having already shed his robe in the hall. Or maybe he ripped that one too apart. One never knew with Tommie boy.

Diablos however, was still in his robes despite the heat and that he was at home. Today's robe was black with red at the edges, looking uncomfortable and warm. Harry looked down at his uncle and saw his eyes half-lidded but the hand still pressing tightly to his forehead.

He had already gotten a double-dose of a headache potion, yet it didn't help?

"Dumbledore-headaches can never be cured," Diablos suddenly said to him. "You just have to endure them."

"I say hail to that," Tom muttered and Harry saw him rub his temples.


Dora put the tray down and Harry smiled his thanks. Before she had taken enough for him but apparently she had prepared to Diablos and Tom as well.

"Is that mint?" Tom asked wearily.

"I think so," Harry said. It smelt wonderful. "Would you like a cup, Tom?"

"Like? Love it is the word!" he said and struck a fist up. Harry rolled his eyes at the man's antics. He used to wonder why Diablos had brought Tom back from hell considering he had barely asked him any favours. He had wanted to ask, but Diablos had beaten him to it with saying the man was entertaining and it would be a waste to have him in hell. Plus it would irk their time's Dumbledore if he ever found out. And now, with him being here and all, he probably would.

"And you, Dia?" Harry continued, shaking himself out of his thoughts.

"I can have a bit." His voice was quiet, his eyes fully closed now. Harry narrowed his eyes; he had heard a bit about Albus Dumbledore from Diablos' time, but now… it made him hate the man all the more.


A small taste of the sequel! Tell what you think about it, and I felt so good writing about Harry and Diablos again!

Chapter two: Dumbledore begins to gather people for his personal crusade, and Diablos gets a visit from three people he thought he would never see again…

Look forward to it!

Until later,