I don't own Naruto or harry potter
Potter, oh yes. Of course. Little Potter had to go be the hero again. Bloody, Stupid, Griffindor, Potter had to go run off when the entire school was under lock down. The brat took Weasely with his as well, Severus Snape, resident potions master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, mused as he patrolled on the second floor of Hogwarts.
Why is Moaning Myrtles bathroom door open? The Professor walked to the door, only to pause at the door frame. Harry Potter stood at the edge of a large pit where Severus was positive the sinks used to be. Severus drew a breath to snap at the foolish boy when the Griffindor jumped. The Sinks sealed themselves back into place before Snape could reach the hole.
Well, best go inform Minevera that Potter jumped into a hole in the middle of the floor of the second floor girls bathroom. Severus doubted that the hole led to the girls bathroom on the first floor that was right below. He walked off to the Headmaster's office where Minevera should be contacting Headmaster Dumbledoor at this very moment. Once Snape informed the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress the potions master continued his patrols. He had a feeling the Weasely twins would be going to the kitchens for a snack right about now, lock down or not.
Approximately one hour forty-six minuets later, Severus' wanderings led him past the Gargoyle that hid the Headmaster's office. At that moment the Gargoyle leapt aside and Harry Bloody Potter came down the stairs. Snape took a moment to take in the boy's appearance.
He was sagging, deflated. Potter was obviously exhausted. The boy's robes were in tatters, he was limping, and his arm appeared to be paining the brat greatly. Well, the boy had looked like that after Quirrel, only not on such a great scale. What threw the Professor off was the fact that he was crying. Potter looked blearily up, his eyes meeting Severus' without seeming to see his Potion Professor at all.
Gently, Severus Snape slipped into Harry's mind.
"Freak!" An obviously obese man roared drunkenly. The man was sitting on a reclining chair in front of a TV. The news informed the world that it was currently March in the year 1987. It then began a long list of reports on various tragedies around the world.
"Yes uncle?" Into the room shuffled a small boy. He appeared to be about five. It took Severus several moments to realize that this was, in fact a six year old Harry James Potter.
"Get your coat, boy! I'm not going to put up with your freakishness any longer." The man grabbed the boy and dragged him out of the house soon after. Only twelve minuets later Harry Potter was abandoned at an orphanage. The little boy sighed and entered the unwelcoming brick building. He passed through the foyer and knocked on the door that led to what seemed to be an office.
The aging woman who answered the door didn't seem surprised to see Harry there. She only looked sad. "Back again Harry?"
The boy looked ashamed of himself. "Yes, ma'am."
"Well, you can go up to your room then." She shooed him away. Harry nodded and scurried up the staircase. "Poor kid." The woman murmured softly before closing herself back into her office.
The boy opened the door to his room and was surprised to find that someone was already in there. "Oh! Hullo." The six year old shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Once he realized that the teen was ignoring him in favor of his book little Harry quietly shuffled over to a bed pushed into a corner. The boy laid down and didn't seem to notice that the newspaper on the table was informing the world that it was currently June about fifty years ago.
Several minuets passed before the sixteen year old on the other bed noticed the six year old. "Who are you?" The teen asked rather rudely of the boy he didn't recognize.
Harry flinched, "I'm Harry. I'm supposed to stay here for the night." For Harry knew that the stern woman would come for him the next day and return him to the Dursley's. Just as she has every other time the Dursely's abandoned him in various different locations. "Um, Who're you?"
"Tom Riddle." The teen seemed to dismiss the boy. The hours passed with Harry sitting quietly while the Teen read. Soon, the six year old drifted off to sleep. The two remained in silence for several more minuets before Harry began to whimper in pain and thrash around in his bed. It was the green light nightmare again, the one with his mother dead. "Harry." Tom's harsh whisper didn't wake the boy up. "Harry!"
Harry jolted out of his nightmare and back into reality. "S-sorry." The boy curled up in his bed and pulled the covers over his head. "Sorry..." he whispered softly.
Tom sighed and got out of his bed. The teen crossed the room and scooped up the six year old out of the other bed. Then the sixteen year old crossed back to his bed and put Harry under the covers. The teen ignored the six year old's inquiring look and sat back down to continue reading. "Sleep here," The teen ordered softly.
The six year old burrowed into the blanket. A soft smile lit his face while small tears sneaked out of his eyes. "Thanks you." He began to fall asleep again. "You're the first person who was ever nice to me.." His sleepy murmur was almost inaudible as the boy fell into a peaceful sleep.
The teen smiled at the horrible irony of the statement. "Yeah," He glanced at the bedside table where a letter was addressed to the orphanage. To Lord Voldemort. At midnight the child vanished and Voldemort knew the boy was magical.
Harry awoke back in March 1987, alone, but happy. The boy went downstairs and Professor Mcgonigal took him back to the Dursleys.
Severus Snape fled before Harry realised he was there. The first person to be mean to Harry was Voldemort, but the first person to be nice to him was Tom Riddle, Voldemort's past.
Did you know that if you put and S before Quirell you get squirell?
Yes, it's over with. The irony, poor Harry.