Hello everyone! I am so excited to present the first part in my answer to the 30 prompt Un_Love_You challenge from Live-journal. I am posting it there but will also be posting it here because I want to share it with the readers that have stuck by me in my many merry ramblings. This is a very Dark and OOC story featuring Harry and Voldemort. It turns the tables on the usual plotlines because it will be the Dark Lord who is captured and tortured by Harry and it deals with both of their emotional and mental traumas from their lives. This will be M rated and will traipse happily in X rated on several occasions, there will be warnings posted for the more grisly chapters and all unrated versions will be available on Live-journal. The chapters will be mostly short snapshot like interconnected stories spanning the seven years of the books.

Thanks and Enjoy!

Chapter One (Prompt 9)

I always wondered what this'd be like. Having the family you falsely promised me.

I had always dreamed of situations like this you taunted me with. I knew I was different than other children when my cousin Dudley was addressed by his name or one of Aunt Petunia's stomach-curdling nicknames and I was fully adamant that my name was Boy. My teacher sat there for ten minutes calling the name Harry Potter in primary school and I was sent to the headmaster's office on the first day for "willfully ignoring my teacher".

I was the trouble making brat when I argued that this Harry Potter couldn't possibly be me, my name was Boy. From that day on I was targeted by Headmaster Knowles as a troublesome deviant. The teachers had never asked questions, never wondered why I was so skinny in tattered clothing and obviously underfed. No one questioned why my cousin wore name brand clothing and my glasses were kept together by dirty tape. No one wondered why I avoided looking in people's eyes, couldn't read and stuttered, no one ever questioned the cuts and bruises that occasionally peaked out of my oversized clothing.

No one ever cared, not until I was eleven.

All of a sudden everything I knew was a lie, not that it was particularly disheartening. I mean who would ever be sad that a lifetime of lies about your drunk, deadbeat parents were wrong? Who wouldn't be enthralled by the knowledge that your parents were martyred heroes that you were looked upon like a god? That you had money to take care of yourself?

Not that it mattered. Because all those people who loved me really only loved this great legend that they spoke of with reverence, they loved the chubby toddler who was adored by his parents, they didn't love the scrawny abused pre-pubescent man-child who was a pathetically weak stuttering mess. I was worse the Neville for all of my insecurities; I just had a better mask.

And then I was given the worst news. I wasn't important enough to anyone to rescue me from the hell that awaited me every summer. No one really cared for me enough to put any effort. No one offered me a family… except for you.

As sick as this sounds, you offered to bring my parents back to me. You were lying of course, you couldn't really do it and you wouldn't if you could but you offered. When no one else would even consider, you offered the one thing I've always wanted to me. You gave me hope, you bastard.

And now I'm on the train home, I'm pretending, always pretending to love these children sitting across from me, ignoring their covert glances at my scar, at my face. Watching bemused as they sit there, trying to figure out what makes me so different from them. Why I'm not wearing my new clothes that Mrs. Weasley made for me, why I'm sitting here in tears and writing in the back of my potions journal. They'd never understand the reasoning behind using books to hide precious things from my family.

They'll never understand me like you do. I can't wait to meet you again, I want to see you, I need you. I hate you.