Author's Note: I do not own any rights to the Harry Potter franchise nor do I own the Harry Potter copyright. This is done purely for fun, not profit. I do so enjoy playing in J.K.'s sandbox. I have no current Beta, if interested please PM me.

Cold. That was the first thing that registered in my mind. Holding consciousness was difficult enough, let alone the cold feeling all over. Why was I so cold? For that matter, where the bloody hell was I? I tried to look around, but pain shot through my body.

Oh the pain, she was a mistress of mine. I had experienced so many different kinds of pain in my life. Emotional, mental, physical, they were all familiar to me. I wonder if there is a god that I should pray to so that she will leave me alone.

Now don't get the wrong idea, I had plenty of good times in my life, but the bad somehow seemed to overshadow that most of the time. Unless we are talking about her. The love of my life. What a beautiful, smart, sexy, cunning, and downright dangerous woman.

Ah, it's beginning to come back to me now. The haze is lifting and despite the pain in my body and mind at the moment, this is entirely about her. They took her you see, and in my haste, I seem to have injured myself. Rather I allowed myself to be injured. Bloody Death Eaters and their dark curses. Seems one of them got me finally.

Probably that crazy bitch Bellatrix.

You would think that she would get a new hobby once in a while. Oh well, I'll just have to get her back at some point. I mean I still owe her for Sirius after all. Oh listen to me blubbering on! You have absolutely no idea who I am do you? Well allow me to introduce myself.

I am Harry James Potter, former Heir to the Moste Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Earl of Gryffindor, and Heir apparent to the House of Slytherin by right of Conquest, and most notably, brother the The-Boy-Who-Lived, Damien Charlus Potter.

So the big question I always get asked, "What is it like to be the brother of the boy who lived?", only after they figure out we are related, and frankly life was shit while I lived with those tossers. No, I don't hate them, or wish ill upon them, I just don't care about them. Amazing what being ignored will do for one's perspective, eh?

Well enough of my complaining! I guess I will just have to start at the beginning and tell you exactly how I ended up here. It's a rather long tale, and I just hope I hold to this mortal coil long enough to explain myself thoroughly. After all it seems that I am bleeding from a curse to my hip. I suppose I should try to heal that first. I never was very good at healing spells, always more a of combat oriented person myself. I left the healing to Hannah Abbott and Luna Lovegood.

Oh how they are both going to kick my arse for getting myself into this situation. For that matter so will she. Daphne Greengrass, she is as beautiful as she is deadly. I still think all women must have been born having gone round the twist. I mean after all she is dating me! She has a temper to match her beauty as well. If only they hadn't taken her, then I wouldn't be getting my ass kicked.

Enough dilly dallying, as they say, now on with the story! Let's go back to that fateful day on October 31st, 1981. The day that Voldemort tried to murder my brother and I. The day he scarred us for life, and the day a bloody prophecy was put into motion. The day an old billy-goat started his machinations. The day I left my parents eyes. That was 17 years ago.

My parents were out to an Order meeting, Charlus and Dorea Potter were watching my brother and I. From my understanding Charlus was a formidable opponent on the worst of days, and a downright terror on his best days. Dorea while not as battle savvy as her husband was a consummate politician and had a silver tongue to match the best of them, what would you expect from a daughter of the House of Black. These were my grandparents.

Voldemort, that megalomaniac, murdered them in cold blood just because Wormtail lead them to my house. Prophecy or no, they were neutral in the war, only wanting to watch their grandchildren. The day I got the story of what happened, I vowed I would avenge them, and I will. But alas, I have gotten off topic once again.

It was a damp, cold and windy Halloween in the little village of Godric's Hallow. Everything seemed to be normal, when two black-cloaked figures arrived with a mild popping sound...