I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.

Disclaimer: NOT MINE

AN: My first Harry Potter fan fiction. I hope it's not to bad. If you read this I ask, plead, that you tell me what you think and if I should continue with it. Let me know. I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter 1: Just a Little Background

A small boy lay on a thin mattress within the crowded restraints of a small cupboard that was clearly meant for cleaning supplies and not to be used as a bedroom for a child, or children in this dismal case of abuse and neglect. The cupboard was a small room that was only three feet by four feet, not nearly enough space for even one person. The mattress that this boy currently lay on was simply part of a larger one that had been cut to fit the room. The mattress did more than provide the children a slight escape from sleeping on the concrete floor, it was home to a family of mice that were seeking refuge from the rest of the house and a multitude of bugs and insects lived there as well. The children that used this as their bedroom had absolutely no fear of spiders because there were large spider webs clinging to the walls and the dying incandescent light-bulb that hung from the ceiling. Spiders were, in a sense, roommates to the children, as welcome as them in this cupboard. This light had long ago lost the chain that turned it on and off, forcing the children to have to unscrew the hot bulb every time they wanted it turned off. A small, rusting grate on the door, opened and closed for the outside, allowed them to distinguish the difference between night and day in the world beyond the 3 by 4 foot room, that is, when the grate was left open. Sometimes the boy on the mattress would be forced to spend days on end, even weeks, in the cupboard alone, without the other child, often without any natural light leaving only sounds to help the child determine the time of day. The boy wasn't only confined, but also starved which was nothing out of the ordinary for him. During these times the other boy got to use the spare bedroom upstairs. Yes, the family that these children were forced to claim as their own had a spare room but choose not to allow the children to use it. The children saw this as normal and not something that should be stopped. They were very wrong.

Sobs caused tremors to plague the child's small frame. He cried for the fact that while he was in the safe-haven, if it could be called such thing, of the cupboard his brother was being beaten for the first time in the living room.

Ever since the two brothers had been brought to the so called normal household of the Dursley family, located at number 4 Privet Drive, the child in the cupboard had always taken the blame for any mishap that ever had occurred within the lives of the Dursley's. Being as this was true it meant that this small boy had been beaten, abused and neglected countless times and in countless different degrees of cruelty. Why was this child and not his brother always chosen to take the blame and the damage? There are two answers to that; he had once sworn that he would always protect his brother and he intended to keep that oath and something, perhaps some form of magic, always drew the danger towards the one and not the other.

It had become normal for Vernon Dursley to grab this particular child over the other, since when they were only babies the one child had always put himself in front of his brother in a way to protect him and Vernon always seemed drawn to him. On this particular day, that the small boy lay in the cupboard while the other got the first beating of his life, the small boy felt as though he had betrayed the only person that ever meant anything to him and he swore that it would never happen again. The only reason that he was not being beaten was because he currently could not move due to the fact that he was both dying of starvation and his back had been ripped open by his uncle's, Vernon Dursley's, belt earlier that day.

Vernon's son, Dudley, had fallen off his bicycle earlier that morning. During his fall he managed to scrap both his right knee and left elbow. Since it was a Saturday, Vernon was home form work. The small boy had been weeding the garden, or at least trying to, even though it took more effort to keep himself up, do to his major lack in nutrition. Vernon naturally thought that it was the boy's fault that his son had fallen. So he had dragged the boy into the house, taken off his belt and wiped him until his back was nothing more then flesh, blood and in some places most disgustingly, bone. Obviously the boy fell into unconsciousness so his uncle lugged him down the hall and threw him into the cupboard that served as his bedroom.

It was for this reason that it was not the small boy in the cupboard being beaten, but his brother. Dinner had been slightly overcooked and so the wrath of Vernon Dursley was turned on the other boy.

It just so happened that the small dying boy was a boy known less so then his brother and completely forgotten about in the world of magic, witchcraft and wizardry. This boy's name was Harry James Potter. His brother was; on the other hand, quite famous with the magical folk because it was believed that he is the one that destroyed the darkest wizard of the time, Lord Voldemort. This child was named Alexander Lloyd Potter. His brother and those who knew him but weren't otherwise related, while the Dursley family called him "boy", often called Harry Potter, Harry. Alexander Potter was called Alexander by the Dursley's, Alexander Lloyd by the general public and called Loy by his brother.

These two boys, brothers, were more then that, they were more then mere siblings, brothers, friends or companions; they were twins. Once upon a time they had been identical twins, but although they remain genetically identical for that could never be changed, they were easy to tell apart upon close inspection. Harry was slightly shorter then Alexander Lloyd due to the damage that had been done to his body. While Alexander was horribly thin Harry was barley more then a skeleton. Harry's skin was slightly lighter and had a grayish tint to it, almost like that of a corpse, due to the immense amount of scares that riddled his body. Alexander's skin, while still very light, had a slightly darker hue then his brother's. Alexander Lloyd was, and had the appearance of, an overall healthier child.

But if you were looking on from afar at these two boys you would be unable to tell them apart. This fact alone could mean the survival of at least one of these two boys, for tricks can easily be played and a lack of attention to detail could cause one's plans to fail in what they originally planed to do and to whom it would be done.

AN: I hope it was at least not torturous to read. Tell what you think. Should I keep going with this? Anyone know where Alexander Lloyd's name comes from? Thank you for reading and please review.

Mischief managed.