What if everything you ever thought was true turned out to be a lie?
What if the very foundation of your beliefs was suddenly pulled out from under you, leaving everything in chaos and confusion? What if everything you believed to be right was, in truth, wrong?
When the clock struck midnight on July 31, 1991, and a giant man with a wild beard knocked down the door, everything Harry Potter thought was right, was sensible, was the truth, became void, and a new set of facts and truths took their place.
Harry Potter wasn't a normal boy - he was a wizard. And not only that, he was famous.
Contrary to what his relatives always said, magic most definitely did exist.
James and Lily Potter didn't die in a car accident - they were murdered.
And the man who murdered them? The reason Harry was famous?
Lord Voldemort.
Two words - one name - which changed Harry Potter's life forever.
Lord Voldemort.
Not much was really known about the man who was Lord Voldemort. Arguably, he was the darkest wizard who ever lived, and certainly one of the most sadistic. He tortured for fun, he had hated muggles, he liked to kill, and his followers were known as the Death Eaters.
But no one knew anything about who Lord Voldemort really was. He had never been seen in public - was his hair black? Brown? Blond? Were his eyes blue? Brown? Green? How old was he? 20? 30? 40?
No one knew. And truthfully, no one wanted to know.
Lord Voldemort.
Two little words which struck so much fear into the heart of the average witch and wizard that they had long ago stopped speaking them, preferring to instead say the rather childish 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'.
L - O - R - D -- V - O - L - D - E - M - O - R - T
Very few knew that the Dark Lord's name was an anagram, the rearranged letters of a common muggle name, discovered by a young Hogwarts Student one night in the Slytherin Common Room.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Such a common name. Tom.
And how perfect an anagram it was.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
I am Lord Voldemort.
It was almost as if he was born to be a Dark Lord, destined to have his name feared - the letters rearranged themselves so beautifully.
Lord Voldemort.
The Order of the Phoenix was developed on the belief that Lord Voldemort needed to be stopped.
But what if there was no Lord Voldemort to stop?
The dungeons were dark, dreary, and completely without light. The musty air was heavy with the odors of gore and death. Anguished moans and weeping echoed throughout the long, twisting corridors.
The very atmosphere of the wretched, pain-filled place made Harry Potter shiver. Who knew that someone's very basement could be such a place of horrors? How could someone live in the mansion above, knowing what was going on right below the floor?
Well - the house had belonged to Death Eaters, after all. That must've played a part in it.
"It - it looks almost like they were using it as some type of prison . . ." Nymphadora Tonks whispered, glancing around.
"Everybody get into pairs and spread out!" Mad Eye Moody snapped, as loud as he dared.
Harry and Tonks glanced at each other, wordlessly agreeing to work together. Each pair of Order Members all drew their wands and proceeded to carefully take off down different hallways and corridors, making sure there were no Death Eaters hiding in the shadows.
Harry and Tonks clutched their wands tighter and began to cautiously move forward, their heads moving back and forth as they tried to look in every cell that lined the hallway. Harry was oddly reminded of his first trip to Diagon Alley.
Each cell that lined the corridor was small and dirty. Each held several prisoners, some of which Harry could tell were already dead. The conditions they were being kept in were inhumane - the cells were dirty with only one small, filthy cot to serve as a bed. Blood, along with other fluids Harry couldn't identify off the top of his head, stained the walls and floors. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat and mold. A steady tap - tap - tap echoed throughout the dungeon, suggesting that water was somehow getting into the building.
The last cell in the hallway, however, was different. It was just as dirty, but there was only one person - one man - being held inside it.
The man was terribly emaciated, with limp black hair that was plastered to his head. The filthy rags he wore barely covered him, instead exposing ugly bruises and cuts which marred his unhealthily white skin.
Harry at first didn't know if he was alive or dead, as he was curled into a tight fetal position and completely motionless, but the man suddenly seemed to realize that someone was watching him and managed to lift his head up to look at him.
The man's face was gaunt and haggard - but Harry was struck with an intense sensation of Deja Vu. There was something about those eyes - that face . . .
His wand held securely in front of him, Harry cautiously walked closer to the cell's bars and knelt down. The man cringed away and tried in futile to back up.
"Oh - no, no, no - I'm - I'm not here to hurt you," Harry stuttered, trying to make his voice sound soothing. The man reluctantly stopped trying to get away, instead opting to glare at him weakly with distrust.
"We're here to help you - free you." Harry swallowed, looking the man over again. He was sure that he'd seen the man somewhere before - But he was so deteriorated physically . . .
"Could you - could you tell me something?" Harry asked quietly. The man hesitated but finally nodded weakly.
"What's your name?"
The man swallowed and licked his parched lips, opening his mouth. No sound came out except a raspy croak. Shutting his mouth again and lightly clearing his throat, he finally got his voice to work.
"Tom," he said hoarsely. "Tom Marvolo Riddle."
Author's Note: I've been thinking about writing something like this for a long time, but I've had (and still have) the worst case of writer's block in the world, so I haven't been writing very much lately (nor have I been updating any of my other stories).
I'm pretty sure where I'm going with this story, so I hope I can update fairly fast. Please read and review!!!
Thanks,
Snarryvader81 (aka Anna)