Summary:

Years ago, Vernon Dursley died in a freak snake accident at the zoo on Dudley's 12th birthday. Now, fifteen, Dudley is used to random, living, impractical gifts from his mother, and highly suspects that she is trying to help him get over the death of his father.

Tom Riddle is a black market salesmen under the name of Voldemort. He sells "witches and wizards" as house maids trained in a variety of trades. When a distraught aging woman comes to him begging for a man to fill the hole in her heart and home, Tom can't help but comply.

Harry is a young man that has never lived a day outside the dank living quarters his foster-father, Tom, has put him in. But when Tom comes to him, shouting at him to pack all of his things, Harry's world is turned upside down. He's been sold, he realizes, to a family much more caring than his own foster-father. But is this family really more caring than his own family, or is the warmth they radiate temporary?

Prologue

Almost everyday, Petunia would come home with a gift, exhaling that giggle of hers that Dudley had come to hate. The gifts were always alive and impractical. She had once bought salt water fish;

"We have to feed them once every two hours~!"

A ginormous set of Venus-fly-traps... During the winter.

"They can eat meat! Raw hamburger it is!"

Once, she even bought a cockatiel;

"Your father loved natural music in the house." (Never mind that Vernon had always been terrified of birds.)

So, when she left that morning, Dudley had prepared a rough speech about his father being dead. Yes, dead. And that nothing Petunia could do, would bring him back. Dudley stood in front of the door for hours, ringing his hands in nervous anticipation, just like his father. The door finally jiggled open and a young boy with jet-black hair stood in front of Dudley's mother. She shooed him in, Dudley following her in bewilderment as she led the boy upstairs and told him that he lived in this house now, that he could make himself comfortable and repaint the walls whatever colours he liked. That she could go buy new sheets for him, anything that his "sweet little heart could desire."

She tucked the boy in, kissing his forehead, (Dudley noticed that the boy and he were roughly the same age, and Petunia didn't kiss him on the head anymore.) and gently closed the door behind her, muttering something about "starting tomorrow."

She smiled and ushered Dudley to his own room. Dudley laid down and she pushed part of the sheets underneath his body, smiling the entire time. "Won't it be nice to have a man around the house again?"

Dudley was a man, he thought counter-productively.

"But who is that?"

"A maid!" she exclaimed happily, turning out his light with finality. "His name is Harry~! You'll become the best of friends in no time!"

Dudley stared at his mother's gleaming white teeth as she exited the room backwards.

Needless to say, Harry and Dudley did not become the best of friends.

I do not own Harry Potter or anything else you may have recognized as J. 'S