Summary: By going back in time and rising Tom Marvolo Riddle, Harry Potter hopes that this shall he enough to prevent the rising of Lord Voldemort.

Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, the credit goes to JK Rowling . The idea on which the story is based is not originally mine either.

Note: English is not my main language so please exuse any posible mistakes.


Chapter 1.

Observing the building in front of him, Harry James Potter shivered. It was not a reaction caused by cold but rather by the thought of what this ordinary looking settlement contained. A wizard. A very powerful and young wizard.

If his calculations were correct, Merope Gaunt gave birth to Tom Marvolo Riddle on Dec. 31, 1926, in this exact location, living just enough to name her son. From the memories he saw, he knew that Tom lived here until he gained the legal age (in the Wizarding world) to leave.

At this exact date Tom Riddle should be ten years old, a young man with no idea of the Wizarding world, but with the knowledge that he was different, that he had abilities the other children did not seem to have. It would be another year until Professor Dumbledore would come to tell him all about magic and the Hogwarts school.

Tom would not be here for that visit. He would make sure of it. Perhaps it was not the best curse of action but Harry had nothing to lose and everything to gain. If he will succeed, his friends would not know the taste of war, the sight of a ground full of blood or the putrid smell of death. They would not know the fear and grief of watching and knowing your family could die today, or maybe tomorrow. And most of all, an emerald green light would not be the last thing they would see.

Giving a sharp nod to himself, Harry James Potter straightened his back and slowly made his way towards the front door of Stockwell Orphanage.

Mrs. Cole, the matron of the orphanage greeted him with kind eyes and warm voice. She seemed to be a very strict but pleasant woman. That changed as soon as he informed her what, or better said, who he was here for. Her eyes hardened and the smile initially on her lips, shifted into a thin line. She hesitantly opened her mouth and, apparently considering her words, asked.

" Mister Slytherin, are you sure Tom Riddle is the person you are looking for?" her tone was strangled and held a note of disbelief. Harry was not sure at what exactly the feeling was directed.

Looking directly in her eyes he flashed her a charming smile and making sure to use a healthy dose of sincerity in his voice, he answered.

"Yes, madam. Tom Riddle. I would like to speak with him if, that is possible. I have recently been informed that he and I are relatives. I have not been in this country for many years but as soon as I heard, I made it my priority to come, visit and, after talking to the boy adopt him ,if he agrees."

It was not as if he was untruthful. Harry James Potter and Tom Marvolo Riddle were one hundred percent related. Since he did not trust one word of Dumbledore's assumption, Harry attempted to find exactly how he survived the Avada Kadavra curse on that Halloween evening.

Well...his mother's love had nothing to do with it, but her lineage certainly did. Wile appearing a muggle born witch, his mother was, in fact, a descendent of Salazar Slytherin and that fact became known when he took the inheritance test.

In the Wizarding world, as soon as a non-magical child is born in a pureblood family, he or she is cast in the muggle world where they have to learn how to persevere and make a life for themselves.

Even now it still amazed Harry to see how prejudiced and barbaric the Wizarding world could be.

Anyway, back to the point.

Such a person was Marcus Slytherin ( later renamed Marcus Blair), a squib born in the Slytherin family. From Harry's discoveries, Marcus had been quite a successful person, an artist to be exact. Wedded at the age of 25, he had three children, his middle one, a girl named Melissa Blair, giving birth to a new branch of Evans's family by marrying Victor Evans.

The family's magic laid dormant for many generations until Michael Evans(Harry's grandfather) meet Olivia Wilson (Harry's grandmother), a woman with the same magical situation as him. Theyr magic combined made it possible for one of theyr child, Lily Evans, to be born to be magical. Harry was not sure if his mother did know of her lineage or what she thought about it, some things were impossible to discover.

Harry himself was not sure how to feel about it. He was past the silly childish conceptions that the world was painted in black and white with no shades of gray. He did not live his life bound by what others accept as correct and true anymore. So this "Slytherins are all evil" thing got on his nerves but on the other part, he was related to Voldemort, and he would admit, that frightened him a little.

How does all this connect with him surviving the Avada Kadavra? He had Salazar Slytherin to thank for that. The man had been either a genius or a really paranoid person. The spell he cast on his descendants certainly proved that. Harry wasn't sure how exactly the spell worked but the final product made sure that a Slytherin could not eliminate another Slytherin family member. Harry was truly thankful to the man. To be perfectly honest, utterly frank, and completely straightforward with himself, he was grateful to be born as a descendant of the Slytherin family too. His parseltongue abilities were useful, and sometimes he was even sorry he did not let that stupid old hat put him in the Slytherin house, maybe there he would have learned how to plan and strike from the shadows, not from the front like a foolish Gryffindor. It would have saved many lives if he did not continue to act without thinking first. At least he learned with time...he surely wasn't the same "brave Gryffindor now".

Harry wasn't sure why but the woman in front of him was very reductant to let him talk with Riddle. His curiosity got the better of him and, using a minor form of Legilimency, he dwelled into her mind. What he found made him see red. Flashes of his own childhood came into his mind. Of an angry Aunt calling him a freak and hitting him with a pan, an Uncle telling him to stop asking for food and locking him in a cupboard, a Cousin chasing him wile screaming "Harry Hunting" . Placing his hands into his pockets to make sure his twitching fingers would not curl around her neck and squeeze, he searched for every inch of self-control he possessed and taking a few slow breaths, he asked.

"Madam Cole, is young Tom Riddle here or not?"

At his sharp one the woman took a hesitant step back. Still maintaining the connection with the matron's mind, Harry could see that the woman was panicking and thinking about a plausible lie. Her first thought was to deny Tom's existence but, after careful consideration. She decided that was not the best course of action. Now she was thinking how to explain the child's wounds when he saw them. Harry could already see a picture into her mind. The boy was too thin and small...she is starving him...one of his eyes...emerald green, just like his own...was so black and swollen that it was barely visible. He could see marks on Tom's neck and arms...her fingers griping tight, tight, tight...Harry blinked and lost the connection.

"Mister Slytherin, Tom is a little indisposed at this point. You see, there had been a fight between him and another boy. I'm afraid that things got quite bad and Tom is currently resting. Perhaps you could come in a few days? I'm sure he would be happy to see you when he could talk with you propriety".

He was impressed. The woman was quite a liar. Her fake smile completed the image beautifully. Too bad for her that he already knew the real situation. Like hell was he going to leave. He would not leave Tom here even for another hour. Asking himself if he should perhaps Obliviate the woman and just take the boy, he decided a little blackmail was more advantageous.

"Madam Cole, I do not care if the boy is resting, I wish to see him at this exact moment. This nonsense about a fight with a boy would be credible with anyone else but me. Perhaps it's better if I leave and came back with the police for a control since you, Madame, are obviously hiding something. "

He made sure to let his magic flow in his voice, and this seem to make the woman shiver. He could see her rethinking her actions and planning what the best move would be. Too bad he would accept nothing else but the adoption the young boy. This only after he was sure that the young man in question would agree, of course. He knew the feeling of others always making decisions for you, and it was not a good one. If his perceptions about Riddle were correct, he would not find a sweet, caring boy but rather a manipulative one that goes where he sees that all would be well. He was sure he could handle that. He would offer this child everything. He did not know if he could love him, but he would take care to feed, bathe and teach him everything he knew.

"Wha...the boy had been fighting indeed, Mister Slytherin. I am not one to lie. If you really wish to see him, I suppose I could let you stay in his room for a half and hour. I am not sure if the boy is even awake, but if you insist...Come, I shall take you to his chamber."

The Matron led him out of the office and into a dark hallway. The building was obviously old. The walls were made of brink, and it looked as if they hadn't been painted in years, their dark green color being scratched and dirty. The stair they took next squeaked under his feet. It was a very creepy place in his opinion. The woman stooped in front of a closed wooden door and gestured for him to enter first.

Harry took a deep breath and opened the door. He took a few steps and looked at the boy on the bed. He immediately became paralyzed by the sheer intensity coming from a pair of bright green eyes. He half-noticed the matron saying something to the boy, the boy nodding back, and then the woman leaving. Those eyes never left his. Neither said anything, Tom apparently profiting of his silence to study him as well.

It was creepy how much alike they were. Black shinny hair, but not as messy as his own, identical green eyes, a trait all those of Salazar's family seem to have. They were both small and slim in body. Well...not so much small now and Tom, who knows... he had a lot to grow up as well. The boy's black-purple bruise contrasted painfully with his pale complexion and, almost in a daze, Harry moved closer and raising a hand, he gently touched the boy's face, lightly pressing his fingers over the bruise. The young one allowed the contact for a few seconds and then sharply drew back.

Allowing his hand to fall back and clearing his throat, Harry took a step back and gestured towards the chair near the bed.

"May I sit down?" He kept his voice light and shooting even though his head was full of thoughts concerning how exactly he should start this conversation. Receiving a tight nod from the boy, he lowered himself down on the chair and opened his mouth to speak.

"Tom, I am here today beca-"

"Who exactly are you? And why are you here? You can tell Mrs. Cole that i'm not crazy, and she should stop sending more doctors." The boy interrupted him middle sequence. The slightly trace of fear in Tom's eyes drew something painful to the surface of Harry's soul. Closing his eyes and carefully choosing his words Harry replied.

"I'm not a doctor, Tom. And I don't think you are crazy. My name is Sergius Slytherin and me and you, Tom Riddle, we are kin."