Title: Of Power and Opposition

Summary: AU Harry's parents died in a carcrash and grew up with abusive relatives. Choices he made lead him to becoming the Dark Lord. Tom Riddle, his mother died giving birth to him leaving him in an orphanage, his detiny is to defeat the Dark Lord but will his lust for power drive him to a different end? HPTR

Rating: PG-13

Status: 1 chapter written, 1 chapter posted

Review count: 0

Pairings: Harry Potter x Tom Riddle

Notes: Dunno how I got this idea but enjoy anyway.

The radio was playing quietly and small bundle with a mop of unruly black hair, so like his fathers, lay sleeping sounding in the arms of his mother. Copper red hair spilled over her shoulders as her almond shaped emerald eyes gazed fondly at the baby below her. Who gurgled cutely causing the driving father to look at him for a second…but that's all it took.

There was a screech and those on surrounding streets screamed as the car flew over and over in the air, crashing, bent in places it wasn't supposed to. It was agonising minutes before aid got there and by that time it was too late. The father was dead, his neck bent at an odd angle and blood spilling from a head wound. Coppery hair covered to face of the woman but no pulse confirmed her state.

Suddenly, emerald eyes sprang open as did a mouth that began to wail. The baby was plucked from the dieing warmth that had been his mother. The only thing he would remember from today was the whispered words of a loving woman. 'Harry, I want you to live'.

Harry Potter was sent to live with his only living relative, his father's parents had no siblings and had died a year earlier. However, his mother's sister was married with a child and the authorities thought this would be a happy loving home in which the boy could grow up. However they were wrong. Beaten and abused, used like a servant and made to live in a cupboard was how Harry Potter was made to live his years as a child.

At least…that was until his eleventh birthday.

Taken away to a magical world of Wizards, Witches, magic and such a vibrant array of colour and life such as Harry had never seen. The muggle world was nothing compared to this, with its grey stone buildings and red brick houses. It's plain glass and ordinary cloths. It's stationary pictures and ordinary ink.

His first year past and Harry delighted in staying at that wondrous school for Christmas and Easter. Then summer came and Harry was scandalized at not being able to stay at the school for the summer. He protested loudly about being sent back to the Dursley's yet they sent him anyway saying that he was exaggerating and not to tell such lies.

A hate boiled in him, nurtured over the summer, a hatred for the Dursley's, a hatred for those at that school who loves these muggles and would see no wrong in them and a longing. A desperate dream that the whole world could be like Diagon Alley. Full of colour, life and magic…no muggles, none of their boring ideas and dreams and none of those foolish enough to believe in them.

So was the childhood of Harry Potter.

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Like my Fledglings story, this is merely a trial run. I intend to press on with Father Mine, Vacancy and Light in the Shadow before continueing this.