A/N – This idea popped into my head while I was writing another
story and would not let go. It is very hard to write one story
when another is screaming for attention. Usually I have the
endpoint planned out, but not in this case. Let's see where is
goes…  A/N- I own nothing of the characters and places you
recognize in this story. Only the plot and additional characters
are mine.  A/N: Revision 1 – slight editorial changes or
corrections  Chapter 1 – Grief  Lord Voldemort dropped to the
ground exhausted. Deep wounds spilled blood onto his robes. His
left arm ended in a stump at the elbow. The wound, cauterized by
the heat of the spell that severed it did not bleed much, but
still exceedingly painful. Voldemort grasped for his wand but
realized it was missing.  A pair of boots with tattered robes
above them appeared in front of him. With an effort, Voldemort
looked up at the young man who had defeated him. Hatred filled
the dying Dark Lord as he saw the blazing emerald eyes of his
opponent. Even though his ha