A/N: The plot bunny won't leave me in peace to concentrate on There Comes A Time, so sorry if I'm frusturating any followers of that story. Just a warning, and it might be groundless, but I may or may not publish more than just this story soon, because I'm not even kidding when I say that the plot bunny is torturing my brain. Sorry if the updates for these stories are slow, and I am not dropping There Comes a Time if you were worried about that. And I apologize if there are any mistakes with grammar. I can't use Microsoft Word anymore because I don't have a product key, and my trial thingy ran out; therefore, no spell check. I usually have pretty good spelling and grammar, but I'm not perfect.

Warning: This story will be slash/yaoi/shounen ai. In other words, gay/homosexual relationships. If you don't like don't read. You have been warned.

Pairing: You'll have to wait and see ;)

Harry James Potter was always a very special child in many ways, and not only to his parents as most children are prone to be. However, there were two very distinctive characteristics that made him especially unique amoung children, though any Muggles that happened to meet the child would only see one of these traits. Anyone could see that little Harry was an unusually calm child, even as a newborn baby. He was always much happier when he was outside than he was inside, and he never cried unless it was because he was hungry, or had a soiled diaper; even when he did cry, it was a very quiet, almost inaudible sound. He always seemed to be looking at or listening to something only he could see. There was something about Harry that only a wizard could see, though it was actually more of a feeling than anything, for one did not see magic, and Harry's magic was the second thing that made him special.

Like most children of the wizarding world, Harry had a magical core, and a rather strong one for a child, too. Harry ,though, seemed to have something more than just that. There was another kind of energy that no one who examined Harry had ever seen before. None of the professionals that Lily and James Potter hired knew what the energy was, nor were they able to discern its purpose, though they tossed out many theories. The only thing that any of them would agree on was that it was new, and that it was, indeed, there. Though it seemed to cause little Harry no harm. Needless to say, Harry's parents were not particularly comforted, though they had no choice but to put the matter at the back of their minds, seeing as there was nothing they could do about it.

By the time Harry was was one year old, the issue had been largely forgotten when nothing ever came of it, though they still found Harry's odd calmness troubling. They had much more pressing matters to worry about; namely Voldemort and his desire to put an early end to their beautiful son's life due to some prophecy. On Dumbledore's advice, the family went into hiding, moving into one of James' ancestral homes under the fidelous charm, with a secret keeper no one would automatically suspect. They lived in peace and safety for several months, and happily celebrated their son's first birthday.

Alas, as it is often heard, all good things must come to an end, and some good things end quite a bit more drastically than others. On one fateful Halloween night, the Potters were betrayed by the person who they'd entrusted their safety to. James was slain first, in a futile attempt to buy his wife time to escape with Harry. Lily died soon after, protecting Harry up to her last breath. The little emerald-eyed boy, still a baby, watched with childlike innocence as his mother fell with a flash of sickly green light, her beautiful crimson hair cascading through the air for the last time from the crib he had been hurridly placed in, before the same wand that had ended his parents' lives was turned on him. A strange, fierce wind suddently sprung up around the child just as the curse was cast, striking Voldemort's hand and throwing the spell off course. The deadly beam of light hit the small round mirror that hung on the wall above the baby's crib, and bounced back, hitting Voldemort's left ear as it was refracted across the room. Before the Dark Lord could even process what was happening, he was dead, killed by his own rebounding spell. All of the commotion distressed Harry, and he let out his first ever wail.

That was not the end of the events of the night though. With Voldemort's death, his magical energy was released into the atmosphere of the room, adding to the combination of Harry's magic and the strange energy that Harry was unconciously releasing in his state unhappiness. The energy massed around Harry, spinning faster and faster, shaped only by the one-year-old's emotions. When the energy's rotation had reached its peak, Harry disappeared with a flash and a loud bang that sent a shockwave throughout the house.

. . .

Sirius Black stared in horror at the ruins of the house in front of him. When the alarms he had tied to the Potter house had gone off, he had Apparated immediately, but it was too late. "JAMES!" he shouted as he stumbled towards the house, "LILY! HARRY!" It was to no avail. There was no answering laugh from James because he'd gotten one over on him, no scolding from Lily as she undid the glamour on the house, no serene smile and wave from little Harry as he toddled onto the porch. The brick walls of the house remained in their state as charred rubble, and the acrid stench of smoke polluted the air. When he finally passed through the barely standing door, he was confronted with the sight of his dearest friend's body lying at the foot of the stairs.

James looked as if he had simply fallen asleep, as if he would wake up if Sirius shook his shoulder. Sirius knew that his friend was dead though. His body was covered in grime from whatever explosion had ruined the house, and his chest was frighteningly still, not rising with breath as it should have been. Tears started streaming down his face as he walked past James' body and up the stairs. He dreaded what he would find there. He walked past the master bedroom, seeing that it was empty, and continued down the hall to Harry's nursery. What he saw there shocked him as much as it pained him.

The nursery was clearly the epicenter of the blast. The formerly blue walls were scorched and crumbling, and anything that had hung on the walls had found a place on the floor. The main thing that caught his attention though, were the two dead bodies on the floor. Lily lay crumpled in front of the crib, her wildly red hair splayed around her, so vibrant that it looked alien in the current setting. The other body was the last thing Sirius had expected to see when he walked into the room. This body was that of a rather handsome man with wavy black hair and pale skin, seemingly in his forties. The body of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Sirius didn't know how long he stood there staring at the bodies of one of his best friends and the wizarding world's worst enemy, but eventually his mind began to process infrormation once more. His mind registered that there was no sound in the house except for the noise of a slight breeze and his own labored breething. There was no sound of a baby crying in distress. There was no Harry in the crib that Lily had evidently died protecting. Harry wasn't there.

The last thought echoed through his brain as he scoured the house for Harry, but it was to no avail. Harry was truly gone. His godson was missing, and he didn't know if he was even alive. When Hagrid arrived thirty minutes later, he found a devastated Sirius Black rocking back and forth in a crouch with tears streaming relentlessly down his face.

. . .

Danzo was heading towards th ROOT headquarters at precisely 11:59 p.m. when he head a soft noise that didn't belong in the secluded alley way he was passing through. He immediately stopped and searched his surroundings for threats or tails. Seeing none, he was about to continue on when he heard the noise again, more clearly this time, and was able to hone in on the source. There was a baby, approximately 15 months old, lying in a garbage can.

Now Danzo was a cold-hearted ninja, who had no tolerance for children and couldn't care less if a random baby died in a dumpster in an alleyway. He would normally have left the child there to die without a second thought, and he was indeed about to leave it when an idea struck him. He had been planning for quite some time now to train ROOT ninja from children to become the perfect emotionless shinobi. His only problem was getting his hands on children capable of molding chakra. There were plenty of orphaned children runnning around, but they possessed no chakra, and those parentless children who did have chakra either had clans or were kept an eye on by the Hokage. Danzo could sense that this child had chakra. In fact, the child had quite good amount of chakra for such a small one. So, with this in mind he picked the baby up before continuing on his way to headquarters, arriving late for the first time since ROOT's founding. Even if it was only by a few seconds.

Not that any of the ROOT Anbu inhabiting the base noticed, as Danzo used the same secret passage way he always used to get straight to his dimly lit office without being seen. He did his routine check to make sure that nothing in his office had been tampered with and was exactly as he had left it, before taking a seat behind his desk, which was occupied by a copious amount of papers. Once he had comfortably situated himself in his chair, holding the baby somewhat awkwardly, he called for one of the ROOT members that were guarding the door to his office. "Bring me No. 37," he said shortly, not even looking up as the ROOT ninja left the room in a flash. He took the time while he waited to closely examine the child he'd picked up from the dumpster.

The baby had an unruly shock of inky black hair and the smooth, pale skin he supposed all babies had. The most noticeable feature of the child were the vibrant green eyes that were currently watching him quite calmly. He vaguely pondered over how a baby managed to pull of a calm look. He'd always thought of babies as being continuously loud and fussy creatures that were only calm in sleep, and he'd never seen anything to contradict his opinion before now. The baby hadn't made any noise since he'd picked it up. A cold, calculating look appeared in his eyes as he thought it over. The baby already had the makings of a fine ROOT shinobi if what he saw wasn't a fluke. ROOT Anbu No. 37 arrived in the room quickly and silently, as she had been trained to, and waited quietly for her orders. Which Danzo promptly gave.

"Your new mission is to make sure this doesn't die until it is old enough to be trained," Danzo said, holding the child up for the shinobi to take, who did so after a moment of what would be called shocked stillness in anybody who was not a member of ROOT. "Neither you or it are to leave headquarters until it either dies in training or becomes a fully initiated ROOT member. It is not allowed to come into contact with anyone other than you or myself until it begins training." Danzo then began to sort through his paperwork after a short dismisal.

And so began the start of the former Harry Potter's life in the Konohagakure.

A/N: Here are some answers to things you may or may not be wondering about, depending on how observant and inately curious you are. Vodemort doesn't have horcruxes in this story, and he died for good. Harry has no lightening scar because he didn't get hit by the curse at all, and he was pulling a disappearing act when the house came down, so he didn't get injured at all. I would have done the ROOT members' names in Japanese, but I don't know enough to of the language to do it, and I'm far to lazy to look up a translation unless it's absolutely vital. And Harry's name won't be Harry for the obvious reason of there being no way or reason for Danzo or anyone from ROOT to find it, and Harry being to young to talk, much less remember his name. I don't know if I'm going to have him find a way back to Hogwarts yet or not. Anyway, I hope you like it, and for heaven's sake PLEASE REVIEW! It's not as if I can read your mind to find out what you think of my story.