Chapter Text
Prologue
The shadows of war stretch long and unforgiving, Harry Potter stepped out of his childhood home for the last time, the weight of his decision settling heavily on his shoulders. His parents' voices still echoed in his mind, a bitter mix of warnings and disappointment.
“You’ll never succeed in a world like this, Harry.” His mother’s words rang cold and sharp, as if she could see the future with clearer eyes than her son. “You think you can survive out there? Under Riddle’s regime?”
His father had been less vocal but just as firm. “Politics isn’t for someone like you, Harry. You’re just a half-blood. Your place is here, with your family.”
Harry’s fingers tightened around the strap of his bag as he walked away from the home that had always felt more like a gilded cage than a sanctuary. The Potter house was large, ancient, a symbol of wealth and tradition, but inside its walls, things were always strained. His mother, a proud Muggle-born, had long disagreed with his father’s more neutral stance on the current regime. His father had kept quiet, making a life in the shadows of a world he could never truly belong to—a world where the Purebloods had power, where Muggle-borns were second-class citizens, and where Harry, as a half-blood, was forever torn between two worlds that would never accept him fully.
They had expected him to follow in their footsteps, to play by their rules, to stay home where it was safe. Ah, but Harry had indeed taken advantage of all the training that the people around him provided, under the watchful eye of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Nonetheless, Harry had never been good at following the rules. Not when it came to who he was or what he could be. And despite the dark forces that ruled this world, despite the shadow of Lord Voldemort—now known to the public as Tom Riddle, a man both revered and feared for his charisma and undeniable power—Harry knew he couldn’t stay. He had his own path to walk, one that didn’t fit in the narrow corridors of his parents' expectations.
The world beyond was a harsh place for Muggle-borns, half-bloods, and Squibs, and though it was a world in which his parents had their privilege, Harry had none of it. His prospects had always seemed limited. Until he had left Hogwarts, until he had met Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, and a few others who didn’t fit the system the way the Ministry or Riddle’s followers might have liked. They had shown him that there was more to the world than the polished façade of Pureblood society. That it was possible—no, necessary—to fight for something better, even if it was just a dream.
As the front gate of the Potter estate creaked closed behind him, Harry didn’t look back. He couldn’t afford to. His future awaited, and it was a future he would carve out for himself. It wouldn’t be easy. He knew that. The political climate was colder now than ever—his friends were right. The Ministry was more corrupt than before. Under Riddle’s reign, life for Muggle-borns and Squibs had become even harder, their rights practically non-existent, their opportunities few and far between. But Harry knew one thing for certain: the battle for equality wasn’t over. And it wouldn’t be won in the hallways of the Ministry, or through the passive compliance of families like his own.
It would be won through action. Through the people who were willing to fight—not just with wands and magic, but with their minds, their hearts, and their will to make the world a better place, no matter the cost.
It was why he’d left. It was why he couldn’t stay. His family thought that the war would be won by their opinions and distrust of the government, but like so many Pureblood families they prefer to turn away from the real problems and enjoy their privilege lives. It was like his family thought there was a war to be fought when in truth Riddle had won over a decade ago. Harry was ready to get a new war started and he planned to win it, not by himself, of course, he was well aware of his current situation.
And yet, as he stepped onto the dusty road leading away from his parents’ home, Harry couldn’t help but wonder if he was ready for what lay ahead. Riddle was powerful—intelligent, calculating, with a vision for the world that he believed was worth the price of any sacrifice. He wasn’t a madman, like so many had described him. He was cold, yes, ruthless, yes—but he wasn’t crazy. He was a leader, a force of nature, someone who had the world in his grip and wasn’t afraid to crush anyone who stood in his way.
And Harry? Harry was just a half-blood, with nothing but a burning desire to prove that the world could be better. But in a society like this—where Purebloods walked in the halls of power, where blood status determined worth—could he even make a difference? Could anyone?
He didn’t have the answers yet. But with Hermione, Luna, Neville, and the rest of his friends by his side, he knew one thing for certain: he wasn’t going to fight this battle alone.
And maybe, just maybe, there were still ways to change the world—even under Tom Riddle’s iron rule.