Hey everybody! I know what you're all going to say: where the *bleep* have you been? Well long story short, I moved. Not once, like normal people, but twice. And recently, I just got a new job. Needless to say it's been crazy, but here I am now, with the whole story re-written.
Disclaimer: only in my dreams do I own anything related to Harry Potter..
Warnings for the story: death, torture, child abuse, SLASH, and other things.
Warnings for this chapter: death and insanity
"spells"
"regular speech"
* CHAPTER ONE *
"Avada Kedavra.." a voice murmured silkily.
A loud thump followed the voice, echoing through the house. On the second floor in a nursery, a young mother with beautiful burgundy hair let tears fill her luminous green eyes. She knew her brave husband had fallen to the madman now walking up the stairs. He had come for her son, her precious little Harry. As she locked and warded the door as heavily as she knew how, she was internally cursing a man named Albus Dumbledor.
Her old headmaster had told James and her to take Harry into hiding no more than a year ago to this day, giving no more details than telling them of a prophecy and they were in grave danger. Against her better judgment, James had listened to Albus and they moved from the neigh impenetrable Potter Manor, to a little cottage in Godric's Hallow. The sound of deranged laughter reached her ears through the door seconds before it was blown off its hinges. Lily Potter stood bravely between the Dark Lord and her only son's crib, a willing sacrifice.
"I don't know why you seem to think my son has something to do with your and Albus' war, but please spare my son! He's innocent! Please!" tears gathered in her eyes but she wouldn't let them fall, instead pulling forth all her Gryffindor bravery and facing certain death head-on.
Once again, a soft but insane laugh met her ears, as did a surprising sight meet her eyes. She had never seen the Dark Lord with her own eyes, but she had heard of his hideous looks and eye color of the flames of hell. Standing before her though, was a man, the most handsome man she'd ever seen.
The dark magic rolling off him in waves did nothing but add a dangerous and mysterious aura to him, drawing his victims in too deep to notice their own death until its too late. If it were any other situation, she would've been blushing, as it was she was having trouble reconciling the horror stories she's heard with this devilish angel standing in front of her. With one black manicured eyebrow risen and a smirk curving his sinful mouth, it was obvious he had known what she was thinking and this made her blush. Despite the circumstances, Lord Voldemort let loose a soft and genuine chuckle.
"Stand aside, you silly girl. You need not die. Only the boy must." His deep baritone filled the nursery as he held his wand at chest level towards the young woman.
Lily shook her head, words stuck in her throat as her heart raced. The Dark Lord actually let out a small sigh in exasperation.
"You can have more children. You need not die for a boy who is marked for death anyway. Stand aside and I shall spare you. I am a merciful Lord, his death will be quick and painless."
The woman actually took a step forward and shouted with all her force,
"NO! I WILL NOT!"
"So be it."
And with those words and two others, a green light filled the room and Lily fell to the floor. The Dark Lord stepped over her body with nary a glance to the empty shell of a woman on the floor. Locking crimson eyes with killing curse green ones, Lord Voldemort was stunned. The babe was as silent as the house, eyeing him with unveiled curiosity.
A toothless smile and a gurgle issued from the messy haired boy and a strange sensation fills the man. Thrown off and wary, the Dark Lord leveled his wand at the child's face and uttered the two words that sealed his and the little boy's lives.
"Avada Kedavra."
The wizard watched as the curse was flung out towards the babe and seemed to bounce off an invisible barrier. With wide eyes he beheld his own curse come back upon him too quick to dodge. A scream of anger and a cry of misery came from the only two souls in the house. Pain consumes both the younger and older wizards, two souls rip and tear, the agony seems endless. The Dark Lord is thrown from his body and both struggle to merge a foreign piece of soul with their own. And with that, the fate of the wizarding world and destiny itself changed.
A prophecy was broken. A new path has been forged.
"PETER! YOU TRAITOR! HOW COULD YOU? HOW COULD YOU BETRAY LILY AND JAMES; THEY WERE YOUR FRIENDS! WE WERE FRIENDS!" Sirius Black bellowed in the middle of muggle London. The street was full of people, staring at the ragged man yelling at another man he had cornered between two buildings.
"S-S-S-Sirius! I was tr-tricked! He's so powerful! You do-d-d-don't know wh-what it's like!" Peter stuttered, wringing his hands in fear, his eyes darting around looking for help or an escape.
"Yes, Peter, I do know what its like! I'm a Black, for crying out loud! I was raised to be Dark! Or did what little brains you have leek out while you were groveling in the dirt for your master?" Sirius spat the last word and raised his wand a little higher, gripped it tighter. "Because of you, our friends are dead! Because of you, Dumbledore didn't let me take Harry!"
"He would've killed me Sirius! What would you have had me do?" Peter yelled, desperately.
"You should've DIED! DIED instead of betray your friends, like they would have for you!" Sirius had tears in his eyes as he screamed this; he prepared to throw the darkest blasting curse he could at Peter.
But before Sirius could utter a single word, the whole street was blown apart and in the ensuing chaos, a lone rat escaped into the sewer unnoticed. Sirius lay on his back and let the tears and laughter flow from him. Screams rose in volume, until the cacophony jolted the black haired man from his hysteria. What he did was little better; he laughed harder.
Maniacal laughter spilled from his broken soul until the aurors showed up and began obliviating the muggles. This just made Sirius laugh harder, he knew what things looked like, he knew he was going to get in trouble. But he knew Dumbledore would get him out, he was innocent after all. He let the aurors lead him away, to Azkaban, still cackling.
It took 3 days for the laughter to stop, 2 more days for apprehension and anxiety to set in and 2 weeks for him to give up hope. He knew that for whatever reason Dumbledore wasn't coming to set him free. By that time, the screams had started.
Meanwhile, in number 4 Privet Drive Little Whinging Surrey, a little baby with a lightning bolt scar and eyes that were too aware for his age was being poked and prodded. Our little Harry had been dropped off at his muggle relative's doorstep in the middle of the night on November 1st like an unwanted burden.
For many years things went like this; a lonely haunted man in a dank cell with dreams as dark and blank as his stare, and the young Harry Potter being neglected and treated in a way no child should be.
A/N: Not too different, just a few words and things changed around. As the chapters progress, the more changes you'll see. Thanks for reading!
S.I.N.
