Voldemort looked at the two boys before him. They looked nearly identical, their eyes the only identifiers. The brown-eyed boy was wailing loudly, cheeks ruddy, nose scrunched. The other boy, however, was quiet, tears streaming silently from his bright green eyes as he stared at his mother's crumpled form.

The prophecy could refer to either of the two. He would have to kill both just to be sure. The green eyes flicked over to him, and though he would not admit it, they unnerved him. Too intelligent for a child of 15 months. He would kill this one first he decided, aiming his wand at the green-eyed boy.

"Avada Kedavra."

With a flash of green and a high pitched scream of pain, Voldemort disappeared without a trace. The curse having rebounded off little Harry.

Later that night, James returned home to find the front door blasted open. Rushing upstairs to the nursery, he found Lily dead on the floor. The two boys crying loudly, Harry now sporting a lightning bolt wound on his forehead.

Harry aged 3

"James, you won't have time for the both of them. I have arranged for Harry to be taken care of by Petunia." Dumbledore explained calmly.

"I'm handling them fine, Sirius and Remus have been helping." James tried to reason.

"I'm sorry, but Evan is starting to perform accidental magic, we need to pay close attention to him, monitor his magical growth and when he's older, he will need training. It's not fair on Harry if you can't spend time with him." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Really its better for Harry this way."

After a moments thought, Dumbledore's persuasion coupled with the mild compulsion spell in the lemon drop James accepted convinced him to give Harry up. Two days later, he was dropping Harry off with Dumbledore to be taken to his Aunt. The next time James would see him would be when the boys went to Hogwarts. Dumbledore had explained that it wouldn't be fair to Harry if he was constantly dropping in and out of his life.

And so off Harry went to number 4 Privet Drive to live with Petunia, her husband, and son.

Harry aged 7

"BOY!" Vernon bellowed. "Where is our dinner?"

Footsteps could be heard running down the stairs and a small messy-haired, green-eyed boy burst into the kitchen. "Sorry Uncle Vernon, I was cleaning the bathroom." Harry panted.

"Well, you won't be eating tonight then! Hurry up and get dinner on the table." Vernon growled, cuffing the back of his head. "If it isn't ready soon, you'll pay boy."

Harry quickly rushed to get dinner ready before retreating to his cupboard. He could smell the roast from his cupboard. The last meal Harry had eaten was a slice of bread for lunch three days ago. His stomach had since stopped growling a couple nights ago.

"Vernon, I'm taking Dudders out, he wants to see that new movie before we go to America," Petunia announced. "Boy, get out here and wash the dishes."

Harry snuck out and moved over to the kitchen quietly, maybe if he was lucky, Vernon would forget about him tonight. But as always, Harry's luck was never good. Vernon's day hadn't gone too well board had denied his budget and as he started on the whiskey, he thought to himself, it was the freak's fault, he must have done some kind of mumbo-jumbo.

As Harry went to retreat back into his cupboard he was grabbed by the back of his collar and thrown against the wall. Instinctively he curled up into a ball, raising his arms in an attempt to protect his head as Vernon kicked at his fallen form. He didn't quite manage to cover his head completely and a particularly vicious kick to the head knocked him out cold.

When he woke up, he found himself in his cupboard, his head throbbed when Petunia pounded on the door. "Boy, hurry up and make breakfast." His arms ached he struggled to get up and out of his cupboard. Unbeknownst to Harry, Vernon had actually broken his forearm but his magic had mended it as best it could while he was asleep leaving behind only the bruising.

"Remind me why we're taking the freak with us again." Vernon grumbled as Harry brought the bacon over to the table

"We can't just leave him here on his own, he'll probably destroy the place and taint it with his freakishness." Petunia complained as she served Dudley an excessive amount of the greasy bacon. "Mrs Figg had to go and trip over one of her disgusting animals and she won't be out of hospital for another month."

Vernon's only reply was a grunt, his mouth too full to make a more comprehensible reply.

3 hours later and they were on a plane on its way to New York. The Dursleys were in business class, funded by Grunnings, as it was a work trip after all, while Harry was seated in economy. Petunia had booked his flight separately, it wouldn't do for him to be with proper people.

Despite the slightly noisier, cramped seat he was in, it was pure bliss for Harry. He was travelling as an unaccompanied minor, 9 hours of no Dursleys, two warm meals, all the movies he could watch and the cabin crew had been extremely friendly and even gave him a colouring book.

When they landed, Harry met them at the luggage carousel. They continued to ignore him as they collected their bags and waited at the taxi rank, although Dudley tried to trip him at least six times.

Their room at the hotel had two double beds, Vernon and Petunia took one, Dudley took the other and Harry got the couch. At least it was better than a cupboard. As Harry went to put his backpack on the couch, Vernon grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Now we can't have you messing up the hotel while we're gone all day so you will be coming with us tomorrow boy," Vernon growled. "We will be getting a private tour from Mr Stark himself. You will be quiet, I do not want to hear a peep out of you tomorrow or you'll be sorry."

Harry nodded his head almost violently, hoping Vernon would let go soon. The bruises from the other day were still there and they were throbbing painfully. With a snarl, Vernon shoved him towards the couch before leaving with the rest of the family for dinner.

Rubbing his arms tenderly, Harry went to have a shower. If he dried himself using one of the hand towels and hid it in his bag, they wouldn't find out and he'd just have to take it out and leave it somewhere room service would find when they left in the morning.