Prologue

The 31st of July 1981, the day He-Who-Must-Not be-Named, the most feared dark lord of his time fell. He had set out to vanquish the one with the power that knew not of. His name was Voldemort, a half-blood born as Tom Marvolo Riddle to a squib whose lineage could be traced to the great Salazar Slytherin and a muggle who was under the influence of love potion. He had always felt that he was destined for greatness, oh yes he knew that greatness lay in his future. He may have grown in an orphanage where nobody respected him, but they all learned their place... Eventually. You see , Tom discovered at a very young age that he had a gift. A very special gift. One that he was not afraid to use. You see, he had found out that he was a wizard. he could manipulate magic at a young age. His control over magic at the tender age of ten astounded even the likes of Albus Dumbledore, the vanquisher of Gellert Grindelwald, and widely regarded as the reincarnation of Merlin himself. Dumbledore knew that there was a darkness within young Tom, but he did nothing because Dumbledore believed in the doctrine of love and that everyone deserved second chances. By the time he had realized his folly, it was too late. The birth of Lord Voldemort had all but been set in stone.

So how was it that the greatest dark lord in over a century fell? Well, he set out to vanquish a foe who was foretold to have become his equal should he have been left unattended. But Lord Voldemort had no equal. He could not have anyone as his equal. He walked the path to greatness, learning, absorbing understanding types of magics that only existed in folklore. The idea that a mere child could be his demise made him scoff. He had who had gone farther than anyone to ensure his immortality. He whose name the magicals feared to even speak of. Impossible. Preposterous.
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"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ...". Severus Snape, one of his most faithful death eaters reported to him this propechy, made to one Albus Dumbledore, Lord Voldemort's one true opponent. He never put much faith in prophecies, believing them to be one of the most fickle branches of magic. But the fact that the prophecy had been made to the Albus Dumbledore had given him reason to pause. Was this all a trap? A rouse concocted in the wily old mind of his foe? An old unease flickered inside of him at that thought. Dumbledore. The one constant thorn in his side. He had even gone as far as using legilimency on his death eater to confirm the truth of the prophecy. What was worse, was that his inner circle, his staunchest followers began to doubt in his ability. Oh no they never said it to his face, even on his deathbed he would command enough respect to make any mere mortal wet himself. But this seed of doubt could upturn all of his best-laid plans, and that was something that he could not have.

Now the question was where in all of Magical Britain could he find someone who had thrice defied him, and was born towards the end of the month of July . His spies in the ministry told him of two candidates.

Harry James Potter, born on the 31st of July,1980 To James Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans.

Neville Longbottom, born on the 30th of July 1980 to Frank and Alice Longbottom.

He was now faced with a conundrum, go after the half-blood infant in Harry Potter, or end the Longbottom heir? Offing the Potter heir would be poetic in a way. After all both were half-bloods, the byproduct of those unworthy to bear magic. He was of course referring to the mudblood that was Lily Potter. Oh, how Severus lusted after her, perhaps he ought to reward Severus for his unwavering loyalty? Yes, he was of course a gracious and merciful Lord. He would grant his servant this one boon. 'The longer he waited the better they would be protected ,no doubt because of that old man.' He thought bitterly and let out a deep sigh. He finally raised his head to address his death eaters, all who were kneeling before him. ' They have been kneeling for the past half hour. All that arrogance, behaving like snobs and uppity Purebloods, yet here they are, the very same who boast of their purity of blood, bowing before a half-blood such as himself' he mused. "Crabbe", he said in a high commanding tone. Said man scrambled to his feet to rush to his lord and bowed to kiss the hem of his robes. "My Lord?" Crabbe looked into the red snake like eyes of Voldemort only to hurriedly turn his gaze away from the dark lord in obvious fear, amusing said dark lord greatly. " How may I serve you m'lord" croaked Crabbe and dared to look into the Dark Lord's face and witnessed the horrifying visual of the lipless mouth curving into a sadistic smirk. "Bring me Wormtail."
-

A hooded man walked the streets of Godric's Hollow, the leaves crunching under his boot as he walked with purpose towards a house, that seemingly appeared out of nowhere, but he knew that the fidelius no longer worked against him. After all, he did know the 'Secret'. He smirked to himself, his face hidden in the hood of his long black cloak made of acromatula silk. Trust was every man's weakness. He almost laughed when he saw a bespectecaled man making puffs of smoke come out of his wand to amuse the small child on the sofa. The man was nothing special. Average height and build, but he did possess a unique charisma and boasted a strong magical prowess. His eyes flickered to the beautiful woman descending the stairs. She was magnificent, He understood why Severus had begged for her life to be spared. The red hair and green eyes were enough to make a man go weak in his knees. But, he was no man. He was Lord Voldemort and he had come to clear any misconceptions that people had that a mere baby could hold a candle to him. WIth that in mind, he pushed open the gate that made a creaky sound that led down the front yard to the front door. 'Again', he exclaimed to himself, 'This fool placed all his trust in his friends and mentor and yet took no precautions of his. He deserves to die.' He walked gracefully up the steps to the front door and stopped just short of the handle. 'Hmmm...' he mused, 'it would be unbelievably rude of me to not knock at their door. After all, I did drop by announced. Now to announce my presence.' And with but a lazy flick of his wand the door flew off its hinges richocheting off the opposite wall bearing a true testament to his magical power. He nearly climaxed at the looks of fear and shock on the faces of his victims. And he just could not help himself.

He laughed.
-

James Potter had bags under his eyes from the stress of all that was happening around him. Magical Britain was plunged into a darkness it had never seen. Voldemort and his merry band of death eaters had run roughshod over all of Britain. They did not discriminate between the slaughter of muggles and magicals. He shuddered at the memory of seeing the fates of the Prewitt brothers. Fabian had been skinned alive and had vinegar poured over him. Gideon was the Lestranges plaything. His entails lying carelessly around the room, decking the halls like Christmas decorations and going according to evidence, both brothers had been raped and left for dead in the house, with Fiendfyre of course to top off their gruesome fates like a cherry on top. He snapped out of his reverie and looked lovingly at his son, barely over a year old and already so smart. He entertained Harry for a while until it was time for bed. He heard footsteps, and saw his wife come into view. His wife, his Lily, he thought with a goofy smile on his face as he took her in all her glory, a voluptuous body with hair as red as blood and those damnable green eyes that he fell in love with. Lily looked at him with an amused smirk on her face and asked, "What are you smiling at Potter", in an overly haughty voice. James returned her smirk with one of his wife and in an overly posh voice exclaimed, "Nothing, just taking in the view of this young fair maiden in front of me." They both burst out laughing and little Harry started giggling hysterically which caused them to look down in amusement at the amusement on their Harry's face. He was too young to understand what was happening around him yet the look of pure happiness on his parents face caused him to nearly wet himself in happiness. The family shared a beautiful moment, until... BOOM! They looked in fear and shock as the smoke cleared to reveal the face of their enemy. Lord Voldemort had found them.
-

"Lily, grab Harry and run! NOW!" shouted a panicked and enraged James Potter. Lily looked at her husband in uncertainty but heeded his instruction and fled upstairs. She did not have her wand on her and cursed herself at her sheer stupidity. Not even an emergency portkey, not that it would have made much difference. They were after all facing Voldemort. That utter bastard. Why did he have to target her beautiful family? She scrambled up the stairs and barricade herself in the bedroom and before she could slam the door shut she heard those two words... those two frightening words. "Avada Kedavra." Her husband had fallen. She was the only defense between that monster and her baby Harry. She scrambled for her wand, but she knew it was futile but in one last ditch attempt tried to break down the anti-apparition and portkey wards. But it was all in vain because she had her wand taken away from grasp the moment the door burst open. Hands spread in front of Harry, she stared Voldemort in the eye and begged. "Please, please, not my Harry. Take me! Kill me! Not my baby! Please! I beg of you".

"Step aside silly girl! This your only warning! I have promised you to someone and I would hate to go back on my word." snarled Voldemort.

The cogs in Lily's mind turned, then a fire lit in her eyes. "Severus!" she screamed and in a righteous fury rushed Voldemort only to fall lifelessly to the floor in a flash of green light.

"Pity", murmured Voldemort and walked to the crib in which his equal was placed in.

Harry had been gazing at the black robed man in open curiosity and watched the exchange between the man and his mother. He saw the flash of green light and the man's mouth move, saw his mother's lifeless body hit the floor. After not seeing his mother get up, he started to cry.

Voldemort turned his wand on Harry Potter and observed him in similar curiosity. Watched his eyes tracking his own movements carefully and hesitated for a second. That is until he started to cry. Voldemort hated it when the the little ones cried in the orphanage and snarled. "Avada Kedavra", the green spell shot out of his wand and he watched it impact the child's forehead with unmitigated interest which turned to horror as he witnessed it rebounding right at him. And then his whole world faded to black.
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So this my first work attempt at writing anything this bloody long. I discovered fan-fiction fairly recently and have found myself drawn into the world of Harry Potter fan-fiction and just can't seem to get away from it. Please do leave a review to tell me whether you liked it and please follow and favorite.