Disclaimer: It pains me to say that I don't own the Harry Potter universe or its characters.

In a quiet alley, sounds blunted and dulled by fresh fallen leaves of fall, two beings appeared with a soft pop that disrupted the other small sounds of nature, one of rather small stature, and the other quite the opposite. The shorter turned to the taller with a beaming smile well hidden beneath the shadows of his hood, and the taller's hood was thrown back in exasperated amusement to reveal one Tom Riddle.

"Well, did it work Harry?"

"Did you doubt me Tom?"

"Mm, does that question need to be asked?"

"Hey!"

"I speak the truth and only the truth."

"That is more false than Rita Skeeter's plastic eyelashes and you know it."

"Mm mm. Do I?"

Harry huffed. "Yes it worked. Oh ye of little faith. I'm a freaking genius."

"'A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself a be a fool.'"

"You promised to stop quoting Shakespeare at me!"

They both stood there for a while, each leaning against the alley wall, observing the way of nature in their temporary hideaway before Tom looked down at Harry with a malicious smile.

"Let's just get to work then shall we? Have your parents even noticed that their child is missing?"

"Nope, they won't until I replace him."

Fate smiled sweetly down on them, smirking at her 'brother's' manic grin. Death would not get to run the show this time, not for at least part of this life. She waved her hand firmly toward her sister, who grinned manically.

"Go on Chaos. Do what you do best."

Tom and Harry vanished once more and reappeared in front of Godric's Hollow, both invisible and shivering at the cold.

"Warming charms must be a new concept to you." Tom remarked dryly, he flicked his wand and his shuddering ceased immediately.

"Oi you can do it just as easily as me."

Harry smirked. "I guess I'll see you when you come to 'kill' me. I'll remind you that once I change to this life's age and form, I will be mortal in a way, and vulnerable to spells. Not that I won't just come back to life again, but really, don't get curse happy, they will affect me."

"Maybe I should try something…."

"If you do I will curse you back! You know I don't have issue with it!"

"Alright brat, relax. You being vulnerable makes me so as well yes? We are connected."

Harry nodded and stepped forward to hug the taller man tightly around the middle, squeezing.

"I'm gonna miiiiiiiss you! I won't be to really talk to you easily for a while."

"You are ridiculous."

Despite this, the dark lord wrapped his arms around harry easily with only mild annoyance before stepping away.

"Good Luck then brat."

"Good luck Tom!"

He watched Tom leave before shifting himself down to the form of his one year old mortal self and turned toward the house, ready to place himself back inside the crib he'd taken the 'real' baby Harry from. Something snapped. Harry whipped around, facing a familiar grin.

"Obliviate."

"Oh shit."

The world went black, and baby Death was placed into the crib.

Tom sat still, or rather tried to, tapping his quill against the parchment. He gave on writing the letter he'd been working on and set his quill down. Going over the plan one more time was as good as anything else to do…. The plan was too simple. Go to godric's hollow, murder Harry's parent once again (they'd decided to do this since it would ensure the plan worked best, and they went to a better place, they weren't tha heartless,) fire a light cutting curse at Harry to give him his famous scar, then drop him off at the nearest orphanage. Simple. Simply boring. Everything was so dull without Harry there to make annoying comments. But his levels of infuriated exasperation had gone down significantly, but Tom was finding that when faced with it, he would take that over boredom any day. He sighed and the door hinge creaked open. His eyes widened but he didn't get the chance to turn around.

A whisper, "Obliviate tempus Harry."

Obliviate. It was temporary, Harry—Tom almost managed to twist out of the way— Harry was a trigger for the memory wipe, what would it wipe—he didn't.

Harry Potter was a strange baby.

"Lily! It's him go! Take Harry and run! I'll hold him off for as long as I can!"

Lily sobbed and rushed to the nursery, the door was blasted down.

Voldemort sneered. "Wandless Potter? Fool. Avada Kedavra."

A thunk sounded as James Potter dropped like a puppet without strings. Lily desperately tried to barricade the door, young Harry only watched, head tilted. The nursery door was blasted through as well.

"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please! Take me instead! I'll do anything! Not Harry!"

Voldemort tried to shift slightly, the baby he was here for hidden behind its stupid mother.

"Stand aside you foolish girl."

"Not Harry!"

"Stand Aside!"

"Please!"

A green light flashed, and Harry blinked at the bright light and was forced to rub at his small face, eyes shut tight as bright spots danced across his vision. Voldemort faced the temporarily blinded baby and sneered.

"Pathetic. Avada Kedavra."

Harry's luminous eyes opened to stare at the spell in awe. Voldemort startled at the sight of the the green orbs, and Tom Riddle's memories came flooding back. The spell of death struck Harry Potter, a lightning bolt left in its place, the air around the two beings was sucked in quickly, pulled all at once like a rush of water, before the green rebounded. Tom was once again too late to move in time.

"Damn."

The robes of the dark lord fluttered to the floor, and Harry Potter watched on curiously. Fate cackled. A strange baby indeed.

Harry Potter had always been a strange boy. Left on the doorsteps one night, found on that morning, and then promptly tossed out the next when all the dead spiders in the cupboard under the stairs were found joyfully bundling up the stoic faced baby in silky webs. And so it was Nettle's Orphanage that Harry found himself staying at for the next decade.

It wasn't always overly obvious to others, Harry was a quiet boy, who rarely spoke except to politely ask favors, or perhaps to borrow a book that one as young as him really shouldn't be able to read at his age. It was brushed off easily enough. A prodigy in their midst! Something as precious as that didn't happen often after all. But children, Harry learned, were bitter creatures, and soon became subject to bullying. He really just wanted to read, he got bored easily, and it was often entertaining to listen to the types of insults that ten year olds came up with; Harry tolerated the verbal abuse. At least for his own amusement. But the other children were quick to push his patience and lenience, and soon enough they crossed the line. There was a lovely garden snake that Harry often spoke too, the sweetest thing. Harry was generally a private person, but he had never hidden is companion from others, he held pride in his friend, and the little snake told him he didn't seem to hold enough of that emotion toward anything else. Harry knew the snake well enough to recognize it as a compliment, and grew more attached, in a way it was flattery to him, and Harry kept his friend close always. Until Brian Stud decided that Harry's happiness had gone off long enough. Harry found his companion on his pillow that night. Stud's hamster didn't live to see the next day. There was no proof of course, but fingers were pointed and rumors were whispered and Harry became more and more isolated. Bullying wasn't uncommon anymore, until Harry decided that bullies were of the lowliest vermin that could exist on the planet, he was tired of people stealing his meager meals. It wasn't uncommon to see older orphans with broken bones these days, the sight remained a familiar scene. So Harry was a very odd boy. Smart, adored and feared. But the supposed prodigy knew, through the patches of his shirts and he holes in his socks that he was different. Some change would happen soon.

AN: Hiya! Fifth one shot in this series! These are my first fanfitions ever posted so constructive criticism is appreciated though words of encouragment or kind words are aways looked at with a smile. Thank you for reading!