Chapter I - "Samhain oidhche"

October 1991, Godric's Hollow

A tall figure, hidden by a dark cloak, was slowly moving towards a small plot of land, at the edge of a town. That particular town was bearing the name of Godric's Hollow, home of a quite high population of magic users that inhabit the world, named wizards and witches. Walking through the costumed children, he once again cursed the muggles for perverting the ancient celebration of Samhain to a mere childish festival. What was worse was that it was not limited to the muggle world, even the magicals were taking to the change, no longer performing the traditional rituals, which were amplified during that time, or attempting to talk to the various spirits present in the Samhain night. This was another reason of the many that the lowly muggles needed to be stopped from entering and staining their world with their filthy concepts and ideals. His plans were underway and his grasp on power was almost complete, tonight eliminating the last potential thorn in his side.

Slowly touching his wand, he realized it would be all to easy to end the pathetic beings around him but dismissed the thought, no distractions were allowed before ending the current task. As he approached the house, though he couldn't see it, the wards protecting were giving its position away. He had to admit, they were well done, it would take quite a lot of time to completely dispel them even without the Fidelius, but combined he had low chances of succeeding without alerting the people inside.

He knew he was one of the strongest wizards alive but had no illusions of being invincible, no, that was the trap of those holding power, being corrupted, blinded and ultimately dethroned. Thankfully, a more subtle and silent option was available. The fools had put their trust in the wrong hands, giving their secrets straight to his pawn. All he had to do now was to signal the coward to exit the house. Slowly touching the tattoo on his arm, he summoned his servant. A trembling figure came out of the cottage, The figure belonged to a small, chunky man with brown hair and dark eyes, wearing ill fitted clothes that gave him an unkept look. Arriving near the tall man, he bowed his head.

"Wormtail, I suppose all is in order."

"Y-yes, m-master, everything is prepared." he stuttered. "James and Lily are gone to one of the O-Order's meetings, the house elf returned to the Manor and both children are asleep. I made sure to put a heavy dose of S-Sleeping Draught in their dinner."

"You fool. Did any of my orders include you poisoning them?" the figure, now identified as Lord Voldemort, raged. "They could die if the dose is too high. Their lives are mine to end and need I remind you what happens when something that belongs to me is meddled with?" he said in a cold voice filled with dread and fury.

"No m-master. I a-apologize. I swear, I checked the dozes. It should b-be safe."

"It'd better be Wormtail, you know plenty well what happens to those that fail me. Now, stop wasting my time and give me their location"

"Ah, right away s-sir. Uhm, The Stags Meadow is located at 27 Bedford Grove, Godric's Hollow."

As soon as the words left his mouth, where before there was a plot of land filled with trees and bushes, now stood a warm and cosy looking cottage, the type you'd find a small family living in. He could feel the additional wards allowing him entry. Being trusted with the Fidelius bypassed the rest of the wards, as, once again, the fools faith in their naive notion of loyalty clouded their rationality.

"Be grateful, you've justified your existence. Let us hope you will not justify its end." he said, warning clear in his voice. "Now, to end this farce at last."

Before opening the door, a silently cast Homenum Revelio showed that the children were currently in their room, alive and most likely heavy sleeping. Good, at least the idiot did not mess it up with his stupid little scheme.

Slowly entering the children's room his gaze rested on the occupants. In the wooden crib, a toddler sat, red, fiery hair sticking out wildly on his head. This was Charles Fleamont Potter, the youngest Potter child. On the opposite side of the room on a small bed, a young boy, no older than 4 or 5 years old was sleeping. The nest of black hair belonged to Harry James Potter, the older brother and heir to the Potter family.

Now, with both children sleeping, he knew he had a decision to make. Mentally, he checked the preparations for the last ritual he needed to perform to consolidate his dominance over life itself. His last horcrux, the key to his immortality, will be made tonight, being even stronger with Samhain affecting the soul's connection with it's container, which it was a scabbard owned and enchanted by Godric Gryffindor himself. He disliked most of the things known about the man but he had to admit that it was beautifully crafted and marked with nordic runes. A true testament to Gryffindor's talent as a wizard and rune master, the last of the founders to have a personal object made one of hist horcruxes.

With the ritual ready he proceeded to continue the last step. Although he knew only a part of the prophecy, a fact was clear. The child mentioned in the prophecy was born at the end of the "seventh month", meaning July, but here the problem lied. Both of them were born on 31st of July, but the hospital records showed that while the elder was born early in the morning, it was the younger who was born on late evening, a few minutes away from from the middle of the night, thus, when the "seventh month dies". He was certain of that, but it was known that prophecies were often very hard to interpret and often misleading. He did not like spilling the blood of pure families if it could be helped, but he was not one to let loose ends. With that in mind he decided.

"First, the biggest threat will be dealt with then the final will follow". Approaching the crib he cast a glance at the toddle sleeping soundly. "I apologise little one. You are of almost pure lineage with strong magical blood through your veins. It pains me to do so but no life is too many if it has a chance to interfere with my conquest. Curse not me, but your parents, for birthing you and whichever element of fate that decided your destiny. Farewell."

Drawing his power a ritual ring appeared below him, setting a frail connection between his soul and the scabbard. "Avada Kedrava!", he shouted. As soon as the words left his mouth, a green glow appeared at the end of his wand. In the short second the light took to grow from a glowing orb to a sickly green strike, a small form, ignored until then, quickly moved his hand.

The owner of the hand, the older brother, Harry, had been worried since his parents left the home. Usually when they needed to go outside, there was always one of them left behind to take care of him and his brother. They were having dinner with Wormy, one of the few people he had interacted with and one of the two he disliked. He was always trembling as afraid and was quick to be scared.

The other one was an old man with white hair and long beard who sometimes came to visit him and his family and after of one of his visits they moved from the Potter Manor. He did not like the older man, he tried to act like grandfather to him but it always seemed insincere and not genuine so he avoided him as much as possible.

When a message came in the fireplace, his parents asked Wormy if he could stay with the children as the Order requested a special emergency meeting. He accepted and after a brief talk telling him to behave, they left the house.

Before eating the dinner that their house elf, Dity, prepared, Wormy excused himself to go to the loo. Harry quietly asked Dity to give them other, fresh portions as he had an odd feeling about them. The elf complied and said, "Young Master, is there anything else?"

"No Dity, you are free for the night." he replied in a caring tone. "Thank you Young Master, I will return to the Manor. Have a good night Master". With a small pop, she left, unaware of the fate awaiting to befall on her dear Master.

As they lay in their beds, Charles already fast asleep, he kept awake, as he could not shake the feeling that something was amiss. He promised his parents that he would take care of his brother and he will keep his promise.

Suddenly he felt a presence in the room, emanating a dark aura around it. He hoped it wouldn't notice his awake state. As he stared at the figure between his eyelids, he heard its muttering in the dead silent room. He wanted to kill his brother! He had to stop him!

He knew he had to use his magic, as little as he could control. It worked once before but it left him drained. One time when Padfoot wanted to curse Daddy, Harry wished for the spell to not hit his father and moved his hand, unseen by either of the adults. As the spell left Padfoot's wand, his hand turned on himself and the coloured beam hit him straight in the face, changing his clothes in a pink frilly dress. James started laughing like a madman and Padfoot vowed to never touch alcohol again, a vow he knew he had small to none chances of keeping.

In a movement reminiscent of that of Padfoot's, though a lot harder to perform as the target was more powerful, determined and the curse was an Unforgivable and not some prank charm, Voldemort's arm and wand turned on their owner. With no time to react the green beam hit the Dark Lord, who had no time to evade.

A small explosion appeared where the Voldemort sat, reducing his body to ashes and destroying a part of the room, spreading wood splinters everywhere. From the ashes, two small dark vapours ascended. The larger one left a wailing scream and fled the room. The smaller one, tried to sense its host, and "saw" three possible ones.

A long slim object that felt like it belonged to but did not have the power to contain it, a human with quite a bit of power but small body that had a high chance of not being able to withstand its dark influence. Lastly, an older human with huge amounts of power that was currently exhausted, with an able body and in its current state, easy to infiltrate as the boy was barely conscious. Decision made, the soul shard lunged towards the boy, entering his body leaving a small faint scar in shape of a lightning on his forehead.

The door burst open, Wormtail frantically looking for his master. Seeing the ashes and bits of clothing, the conclusion came unexpectedly fast for him. He knew the wards were off and that the Order will soon be arriving, he had to leave. Looking over at the brothers, he saw that Charles had some blood dripping from his forehead. Not thinking twice, he Apparated from the property.

Almost a minute after he left, small pops were heard all around the house. James and Lily quickly rushed to their sons rooms, thoughts full of worry and dread. When they got to the room, they saw part of the floor and roof damaged, as by a blast of some sorts. Charles was crying, face cowered in blood while was Harry was unconscious, covered in sweat. In the middle of the room ash was scattered along some burned cloth.

Quickly applying healing spells to Charles and Harry, they took them out of the room down in the living room. After they left the children in care of the Order healers, together with Dumbledore and Sirius, returned to see what had happened.

"Certainly, he must've acted on the prophecy." Dumbledore said in a grave voice.

"Indeed, and we handed him the key. I knew we shouldn't have trusted Wormtail", the sparse voice of Lily carried.

"Damn traitor. When I get my hands on him he'll wish he never knew us."

"You and me both Sirius but calm down. It won't help and will just distract us", James tried to cool down his brother in all but blood, although he was boiling inside.

"Alright, alright.", Sirius quickly agreed. "Let's start with this already."

They searched the room and concluded that after Pettigrew betrayed them, Voldemort came, passed the wards and attacked the children. Judging by the residue of the Killing Curse and what was left of the a clearly ritual circle, it was determined that he had planned to use the murder to power a ritual of some sorts. Then before killing the baby, as the ashes were near his bed and they already had a very strong inkling that he was the prophecy child, Charles somehow resisted the curse and destroyed the Dark Lord.

Dumbledore said that while his corporeal body was gone, his soul still resided on their plane, telling them about his suspicions regarding the horcrux and strongly insisted that the fact does not leave that room. They were visibly shaken but still agreed and were determined to fight until the end.

After returning to the children, the healers told them that Harry was mostly fine, although he was exhausted, with a high fever, likely from the blast and the dark magic concentration that was present in the room. Charles on the other hand had a triangular cut on his forehead that presented some leftover dark residue but was easily removed although the scar would never heal and reamain a reminder of that night.

After examining the cleaned cut, Dumbledore said in a slightly pleased tone. "Considering the room's condition and the dark residue cleansed from his scar, I believe young Charles here is the one than vanquished Voldemort." It was the most logical conclusion and after explaining it to the rest of the Order members present, they also quickly agreed.

"I knew it. I knew my son had a great future on his shoulders." James exclaimed excitedly, all his past and future worries gone.

"James, at this point in time I am just glad that both our boys are safe." Lily said in a stern tone while holding onto one of the each boys hand, relief and worry on her face. Relief that her family was still whole. Worry that her baby boy had a heavy weight on his shoulders from such a young age.

Sirius was planning how to find Wormtail, regretting suspecting Remus. Albus was glad that the prophecy came true, they were losing the war and had the prophecy not been started, they would not have lasted more than six months, maybe a year. He now had they key to Voldemort's downfall to shape and mould in the perfect pillar to lead the British wizarding world. A lot of planning had to be done, but it will be done, he will make sure of it.

At the sides of their mother, both boys were sleeping, unaware that the night's events had shaped the rest of their lives in ways no one could have predicted.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or anything of Pottermore, just my story parts and my OCs.

AN:

This was the first chapter. I know it does not advance much of the story, but I wanted to properly explain the events during the Samhain Night. The consequences and details that I might've left out will be explained in the future chapters.

In this fic characters will have proper motivation behind their actions.

I try to have them more complex and layered. It may work it may not. This will be quite AU, quite a whole lot but overly so. Won't try to add ridiculous concepts but although I have a very very rough idea for the story, it will be heavily changed, most likely as the story progresses.

A lot of Japanese mythological elements and other cultural elements will be present and shown more in future chapters. That will be a center part of the story.

Lastly, this fic's rating is indicating the direction of the story and also just to be safe. I'll try to keep it to British English to keep true to the source but I am not a native speaker so there might be slip ups. It is my first time writing so it will be rough around the edges but I still hope you'll enjoy and maybe leave a review. I heard it helps.

Thanks for the read.