Harry screamed, and he kicked, and he hoped to god that someone would help him. He didn't think his three year old body could take another beating.
He felt his uncle grab him around the neck and he hissed, squirming as he tried to get away. It felt like his uncle was holding him for forever before he heard a disgusted and alarmed sound.
"What?" but that's not what Vernon heard, he heard hissing. He saw his nephew looking almost paler then white paper, and he felt scales on the boy's neck.
"Freak…FREAK!!! Get your magic out of my house!! I should have dealt with you when you first got left here." Vernon bellowed as he grabbed Harry by his collar, barging out of the house and throwing him in the car.
Harry had to believe they were in the car for hours as he sat in the back seat dazed and hardly breathing. He could hear his breath coming out in hisses and he was a little scared at how white his skin seemed. He was still alive right?
He stayed quiet in fear of his uncle hitting him again as the man lifted him out of the car and threw him into tall grass. By the time Harry dug himself out of the grass though, the car and Vernon were gone. He was tired, it was dark and he was scared.
He cried himself to sleep, his body really did hurt.
He awoke to wetness the next day, to realize that it was raining. He had stood up and looked around in the grey light and saw a woman dressed in black. She looked like she was dancing, or maybe orchestrating something because of the stick she had.
Harry asked her what she was doing, but all she heard was hisses. She didn't react like his uncle Vernon. Oh no, her eyes lit up and before Harry could do anything, he didn't know where he was.
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The woman, now that he had a chance to look at her as she dragged him down what he deemed to be a hall, had black hair. Her skin was pale like his though. Was she his mother? When he felt her fingers dig into his wrist, he decided that even if she was, he didn't want her.
He entered a room behind her that was filled with men dressed in the same black clothes as her. He had to marvel though, why would men where dresses?
He was brought up to a man who had red eyes, and pale alabaster skin just like his, he saw the man's mouth move.
"What now!?"
"I dunno; ask the wady who bwought me." Harry said to the man who looked down at him thoughtfully.
"You understand me?"
"Who doeshen't?" Harry asked owlishly as he looked around the room. He looked back up when the man's rich laughter echoed through the room.
"What's your name, young boy?"
"Hawwy Potter siw, and youws?" The man's face went from amused to scary and serious so quickly that Harry took a step back and hid behind the woman bowing to the man.
"Who are your parents?"
"James and Wiwy, they died in a caw cwash when I wash younger."
"Really? Who told you that?"
"My uncle and aunt, they down't wike me much dough. They said I should be gwateful that they took my fweakishness in."
"Your parents didn't die in a car crash boy."
"How do you know?"
"I know because I killed them, I was the one who gave you that scar." Voldemort said as Harry ran a hand over his scar and into his hair that was in a pony tail. His relatives never let him get it cut, said it would be a waste of their money.
"That's not twue…"
"It is, and my name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, recently known as Lord Voldemort,"
"Tom Mawvolo Widdle," Harry beamed up at the man, "you'we name is so much coolew then mines." Voldemort almost sighed in frustration, even though he would admit that the boy was cute. He was too young to talk too seriously.
"Bella," it was back to English, and the language change seemed to shock the Death Eaters out of their staring.
"Take the boy to my chambers, and don't let it seem like this will go unrewarded because it won't. You've done well my Death Eater."
Harry just blinked up at the woman who grabbed his wrist harshly again.
"Whewe awe you taking me now?" he asked her
"She's taking you to my chambers little Harry, follow her." Harry nodded at the man with red eyes before happily following the woman.
"Mkay."