Fifteen years had passed since that fateful night. The night that a stepmother betrayed her stepson. The night that the wizarding world received a drastic change in destiny. The night Lord Voldemort traded three lives for the right to raise a child.

"Lord Voldemort, I come to you with an offer" a kneeling Lily Potter said to the Dark Lord, who sat upon his throne, his head tilted slightly onto his fist awaiting her proposal. "I have learned from your servant wormtail that you plan to kill myself, James, and Sirius for my stepson harry. I offer you, in exchange for our three safety, Harry's life. To do with as you please." She looked up from her kneeling position. Her emerald green orbs stared into the Slytherin's face. Pure hatred at the mention of harry's name shown through. Voldemort then proceeded to cackle into the night air. "Why Mrs. Potter, you are truly as evil as myself. I shall take your offer. But know this, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. This one you may not like."

That night, Voldemort attacked the house of potter, yet it was not as the fates had deemed it. No blood was shed. Lily, earlier that night, had slipped a powerful sleeping potion into the drinks of James, Sirius and Remus alike. Then, once asleep, she sent up the flare to signal Voldemort. Coming into the house, Lily ran up to harry's crib and picked him up. The baby began to cry as she carried him out to the living room, disgust in her eyes. Raising her hand to strike the child for crying, Voldemort, in an almost unheard of sign of compassion, grabbed her hand and stared at her with hatred of his own. "Mrs. Potter, you will not strike this child. I am taking him as my son, and I expect you to respect and fear him as such." Her eyes widened as Voldemort took the child from her arms and cradled him. Staring down, sparkling blue eyes stared up at Voldemort's sterling silver ones. For the first time, as harry gently snuggled deeper into his embrace, he truly felt unconditional love. Carrying the child into the woods, only then did Lily realize she had given the darkest wizard in all of history, the scourge of England, his heir.

Fifteen years later, Harry lay in his room on the third story of the house he lived in with his father. His bed was covered in green silk sheets with a silver comforter. The pillows were green with a silver snake embedded in them. The walls were pitch black, with plenty of posters on them. Some wizarding posters, others of muggle bands. Despite the public, and all but the closest death eaters, views of him, Voldemort had nothing against muggleborns or half bloods. In fact, being that he was one himself, he preferred them to some pureblooded families. The reason the public saw his mania was that it was more common for muggleborns to stand up to him, and many of them were without the proper magical power to do so. He only cared for magical ability and power. And those who were loyal to him. Hence why, his own son, sat with posters of such muggle bands as Metallica, Megadeth, Slipknot, and others like them. You see, Harry himself was a rather dark person, not just wizard. Having heard all about his stepmother's betrayal, and subsequently, his biological father's refusal to come to his rescue even after he learned the truth, harry knew pain. But, it wasn't all bad. Voldemort had taken excellent care of him, hiring the best wizarding nurses to tend to harry in his absence, and even, once Harry was fully able to hold a wand and wield it properly, began to teach him of the dark arts, and the things that Hogwarts refused to. All in all, harry had a good childhood. Yet he was still angry. Angry at his real mother dying in childbirth, angry at his stepmother betraying him (though it was the best thing that had happened in his life), angry at his biological father for not having a spine enough to stand up to her, angry at the wizarding world for persecuting his father, angry at that snot-nosed little bastard, Neville Longbottom, for thinking for half a moment he could stand up to father when he could barely keep his wand in his hand against harry, angry at the Order of the Phoenix for whisking Neville away the moment that harry appeared at his father's side to deal with Neville at the last death eater attack, angry in general. Which is why he dressed the way he did. His rebellious streak was not only intact, but nurtured by Voldemort. Harry nearly always refused to wear wizarding robes in Hogwarts, saying to anyone willing to listen that until his father wasn't lied about and forced into this war anymore, that he wouldn't participate in such a trivial custom. You could always pick Harry out of any wizarding crowd by his hair, jet black (the only thing he enjoyed about coming from his biological father was his hair color) and about mid back length. He prided himself on keeping his hair clean and straight, except of course when head banging, where it got rather messy. Or you could tell him by his ever present band t-shirt, today it was Metallica's "Ride the Lightning" or his Tripp pants, which always had chains dangling almost to the ground. Maybe you'd notice it was harry for the ever present light bit of eyeliner he wore around his eyes, accentuating the sharp blue in them extremely well. Or possibly it was the ever-pale skin, almost like that of a corpse. The lip ring that always clung to the center of his lip might have given it away. It was also a good chance that the eyebrow ring would do the same as the lip. The black nails, never chipping from the charm he placed on them, would be a good clue. Or maybe you would notice the black Doc Martin combat boots, if you were, like so many hufflepuffs and ravenclaws, unable to look him in the face. Or maybe, just maybe, it was all of this, when everyone else around him was dressed in robes and wizarding attire as he walked down diagon alley, one of his only friends, Draco Malfoy, along side of him, making fun of people along the way. Today, though, he lay on his bed waiting for Draco to come. Their fathers were at an important death eater meaning, which meant….before he could even get the final words out in his head, his bedroom door flew open. There stood the slender and fit frame of his best friend in the doorway, the light outside not letting harry see his face. "You know, Draco, there's a thing called knocking. You should try it sometime." Stepping inside, Draco shut the door and held up a baggy that instantly got harry's attention. "I think this will cover the intrusion." He smirked as potter jumped up and grabbed a sliver dragon, his mouth emitting a glass tube. The bowl on the side of the dragon's head, the only thing showing that it was, in fact, a water bong. Two hours later, the bong lay in the center of a sea of bags of Doritos and bottles of mountain dew. Metallica's 'King Nothing' played on harry's magically enhanced CD player, and the sound of the room being muffled with Snape's own invented silencing charm, which was taught to harry when he was 8. "Dude, Harry, this song is fucking awesome. I wish my dad would let me have muggle things like this in my place." Harry laughed in his own way when he was stoned and they lay back, their heads laying on the beds edge, letting the euphoric feeling wash over them in waves that seemingly matched the beat of the song. It was a good night indeed for the slytherin princes. A good night indeed.

Two hundred miles away, a mental breakdown was in the process of being done. The girl who was having said issues was bookworm Hermione granger. After the betrayal of lily potter, Dumbledore knew he had the perfect candidate for his new savior in Neville Longbottom, yet the poor boy wasn't nearly ready. So he looked far and wide for a protector of sorts. Neville had become close to Ron weasley, but he wasn't clever enough to protect him. All was lost, until he found Hermione Granger.

Abused as a child, Hermione desperately needed a father figure. Enter Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of the most powerful wizards of all time. He took her under his wing. Yet only now did she see the role he played in her destruction. In her first year alone, he had all but pushed her into gryffindor, forced her away from a potential friend in Draco Malfoy, and pushed her into a friendship with the idiot Ron Weasley, who used her for homework help. Then this last year finally broke her. Ron had all but forced himself upon her, going so far as to say without him she would be nothing, have no friends and be worthless to anyone inside of Hogwarts walls. So she sat, crying, mascara running down her cheeks. Her mind raced for a way out. She had learned very early on in this year that Dumbledore wasn't the nice kind gentle man she had come to know and love. No, he was a power drunk, abusive prick. Going so far as to station a member of the order outside her door to make sure she stayed at her father's house until he "deemed" it the right time to let her go to the burrow, where she would have to endure Ron's persistence in them becoming an "item". She couldn't handle it. Not again. So she wracked her brains to figure out a way around Dumbledore's control, around Ron's annoyance, around everything. Rifling through her yearbook from the past year. She came across the picture of her Ron and Ginny, out by the lake. In the background, two shady looking characters stared at them from the shadows. She knew the one by heart as Draco Malfoy, someone she had close relations with under Dumbledore's gaze of course. But who was the boy standing next to him? She looked for a picture similar to his in the yearbook, coming across her years. Continuing through the list she finally found him. His messy black hair was covering his glasses, which showed of crystal blue eyes. His face was lean but showed knowledge beyond his years. Looking through the names, she came across his. "Harry Riddle…" she then realized he was the missing potter boy. The one kidnapped by Voldemort years ago. As realization sunk in, an idea popped into her head. Dumbledore stationed one Order wizard out front, but they didn't check her outgoing mail. If she could get an owl out to Draco, maybe he could get this Harry character to come after her. She knew of Voldemort's hatred for muggleborns, but hell it was better than this life. Taking a chance, she pulled out a bit of parchment and her ink and quill from her trunk. Scribbling her note, she used her new owl, Ares, to go directly to Draco, and to fly from anyone who tried to catch him. Hooting softly, the bird took flight and, being one of the fastest breeds in the world, was out of sight rather quickly. Settling down for the night, she turned on her CD player to one of her favorite songs, Metallica's "The Unforgiven II" and lay back on her bed. Tears still threatening to spill from her eyes, she let the song seep into her bones as she slowly drifted off into her own existence.

Waking from his weed-induced sleep, Draco heard scratching at harry's window. Grumbling, he got up, his shirt off from the heat that was always in harry's room, even though he had put countless cooling charms and muggle air conditioners in there. Flinging open the window, he saw Ares standing there looking proud. Knowing instantly who it was from he quickly ran over to harry's bed. "Harry, mate, wake up. Hermione finally owled me." Waking up himself, harry glared at Draco until the word Hermione came from his lips. Both of them knew of the muggleborn witch as the smartest in their class. Both also knew she was under Dumbledore's control. Throwing off his green comforter, harry bolted up to see what she had said

Dear Draco,

I'm sorry I haven't been able to write you, Dumbledore has had a member of his precious Order stationed outside of my house night and day, and I could only assume they were going through my mail. Well I have to ask a favor of you. I'm sick and fucking tired of Dumbledore, of the order, of everyone on this side. Yes if you're wondering, the rumors are true. Ron did try to force himself on me. And I told Dumbledore about it but of course he did abso-fucking-lutely nothing about it. I noticed that you were friends with one Harry Riddle. I know it's much to ask, and it might result in my death, but I need out of here. I'd like for the two of you to rescue me from this.

Your friend forever,

Hermione Granger

Draco looked as dumbfounded as harry did. Voldemort for years had spoken about how .the granger girl would be an amazing addition to the death eaters. Now it was finally going to happen. The smile that spread across harry's face was almost as sadistic as his fathers. For a few hours they sat and discussed plans on the best way to retrieve the young granger girl. Around 6 o'clock in the morning, they finally fell back asleep, wanting a decent sleep before going on such a mission.

The burrow was more active than usual. Pots cooking on the stove, people running around getting everything ready, and yet, two flights up, a young girl sat in her darkened room, fiery red hair framed her pale face, occasionally moving into her line of sight where she would glare and flip it behind her ear, as she started to scribble something on her role of parchment. You see, Ginerva Weasley was an artist of sorts. She wasn't concerned with the usual musical instruments. No, it was the violin she cared for. She had charmed the instrument to be distorted, similar to an electric guitar. Hearing her mum squeal, she inwardly groaned, knowing he had arrived. The "chosen one". The blood traitor himself. The scowl on her face increased as she bowed her violin harder, causing it to screech slightly. Cursing, she threw it on her bed. The year before, Dumbledore had all but told her that her role was to fall for Neville and basically become what her mother was. That was something she couldn't stand. She couldn't, wouldn't be that near-squibs servant. Of course, her mother, desperate to keep her daughter in line, was overjoyed at this and instantly betrothed her to Neville. Infuriated, she threw herself in her room and played night and day, her fingers rubbed raw from the strings of her violin. Casting a healing charm on her hand, she went back to the instrument, tucking it back under her chin. She nearly began playing when her door opened. "Get away and knock next time." Turning, her eyes landed, glaring, at the target of her annoyance. "Now, is that any way to treat your future husband?" the boy walked into her room as her blood slowly stood at a boil. "Get out of my room." Slowly, Ginny enunciated every word of the statement. Knowing better, Neville slowly retreated, smirking. "You know, you can't avoid me forever. We are to be married. So get used to my face." Slowly, he cast a stunning spell at her violin. She watched in horror as the strings snapped and the wood splintered. "Always hated those things." He said and laughed. She knew better than to repair it with him in earshot, the next stunner would be aimed at her back. Her eyes glazed over in anger as she thought of the months of abuse she took from that bastard. She thought of her want, but the last time she drew it on Neville, her whole family watched as he beat her senseless. Her mother even claiming she deserved it "for drawing her wand on such a sweet boy." Her mother hated her. She never wanted a girl. She thought it took the focus off her, and nothing could do that. After all, she lost 50 pounds, and spent all of Ginny's school money on those anti-aging charms. She had gotten Percy's old wand, Ron's old clothes, and her mother had made her beg the patrons of florish & botts for spell books. Once, they gave her a brand new transfiguration book. She was so happy, until molly snatched it from her. She got Ron's old book, and to make matters worse, her mum had made extra sure that it was as tattered as possible. For five years this continued and it finally got the best of Ginny. Knowing there was only one person who would take her in, she gathered her books, trunk, and owl, and went to the fire in her room. "Harry Riddles room." In a wisp of smoke and fire, Ginerva Weasley left her abusive and neglectful family, the only trace she ever was there was the splintered remains of her violin, carefully arranged to say "goodbye" on her hand-me-down chudley cannon's comforter, for all the family to see.

"Ok. So I appear in front of the guard and distract them while you apparate into Hermione's room and get her shit and get out of there. You sent off a flair when you're done and ill do the same. They'll have wards on the house so ill remove the charms and wards to give you access. We need to make this quick so hurry up and don't snog yourself silly in the room." Harry smirked as Draco went red and started to cut him off when a knock at the door startled them both. Opening it slowly, they both saw the form of lord Voldemort standing in front of them. "Yes father?" harry said in his respectful tone that he saved for his father. Voldemort smirked at them and stepped inside. "So I hear you are both going after the granger girl? Good. I've always wanted her on our side. You've becoming quite powerful, my son. And you as well young dragon." Draco smirked and looked down at the praise from the dark lord. A hand slapped his back a bit hard, and he looked up at the smirking face of his best mate. "I told you those training sessions would help. Don't look so modest it doesn't work for you Draco." Harry said and he looked back at his father. They went over the strategy to get out Hermione for a few minutes; they set the target time for 8:35 am. One thing that Voldemort loved so dearly about his son was how almost militaristic he was about everything. Whether it be a simple trip to knockturn alley to pick up slightly important potions ingredients, or a rescue mission where it wasn't only likely, but probable that the Order of the Phoenix showed up, harry kept the same attitude. Everything planned down to the smallest detail. He took control of everything when he went on his missions. From time to wardrobe, from how many members he took to which ones, he knew every single death eaters strength and weakness, and he knew who to pair up for what missions and who to avoid using. His magical power was amazing, but his skill in planning and preparation was unbelievable. He smirked as Harry pulled the hood up on his black "assassin" robes as he called them. The black robes covered half his face, leaving only his mouth and upper part of his nose free. He looked powerful and dangerous in them, and Voldemort knew he was in fact just that dangerous. He was, without a doubt, the fastest study of the dark arts that had been taught since Salazar Slytherin himself. Even Bellatrix was not only impressed, but in some points, jealous of the boy. It was more of a competitive jealousy though. Smiling at the thought about harry's adoptive mother in all aspects, Voldemort slowly left the room as the boys went over last minute preparations for the rescue mission.

"Its time." With that simple statement, Draco Malfoy knew that the switch had been flipped. Harry had two sides to him. One was the fun loving, full of laughter, and approachable best friend that he'd known for six years. But, once the switch flipped so to speak, he was no longer talking to his friend. He was his superior and failure was never an option. Harry took Draco on every mission he went on, and with that Draco had become well respected in the death eater community because of the success rate Harry carried with him. Before Harry came of age, death eater mission success was hovering around 35%. Since Harry came of age and learned his skills, the rate doubled without any signs of slowing. And this was another one that harry wouldn't allow to be failed. Apparating away, they both ended up just a few steps from Nymphadora Tonks, one of the Orders top agents. "Ok Draco one more time. Ill release the anti-apparition wards on her room. But I can't get rid of the warning ward. I'll keep tonks occupied. Order response time is 3 minutes. You have 2 minutes and 30 seconds gone in, gather what you can and get out. Ill monitor you using legilimens. If the response time is faster ill shoot up a red flair. If you see that flair you have 15 seconds to get out of there. Apparate back to my room. I'm leaving here at the 2 minute 45 mark. Set your timer now" Draco brought up his wrist and set a watch to go off at the 2 minute mark. Harry smiled as he saw that. It looked like his best friend was giving himself the 30 seconds as leeway. "When that goes off, get out. Now give me a moment." Harry closed his eyes and muttered softly to himself, doing some wandwork. A green light flashed and Draco apparated away instantly. The time started. Running into position, Harry popped into position, smirking at the shocked face of Tonks. "Well hello there dear cousin." Her eyes filled instantly with fear and hate. "You. I know who you Riddle. I don't know your game but I'll stop you here and now. Stupefy!" casting a stunning spell, the red beam sped quickly towards harry. Lazily, he threw up a shield charm, the red spell bouncing harmlessly off of it. "Now is that any way to treat your own cousin?" he sent a disarming spell her way which she blocked with a flick of her wrist. He knew she would. It wasn't about harming her in any way. This mission called for a zero body count margin. "You never were or will be my cousin!" sending a bone breaking hex his way, he blocked it again. 15 seconds. He sent a stunner her way, to be blocked again. "Fight me for real Riddle!" she cried out as she fired two stunners and a disarming spell in quick succession. Flicking his wrist upward, a stone block erupted from the ground, the spells smashing into it and shattering it. Standing there, harry smirked as she looked more aggravated than normal. "Why? You can't even land a spell on me on your best day. And with your problems recently with dear moony, I can't see you being at your best." He snickered as her hair flowed into a deep red. He knew he had gotten under her skin with that comment as he threw a jelly legs curse her way. Blocking it again, she grew more aggravated. He was using O.W.L. spells against a top ranking ministry auror. Harry checked his watch again. One minute. "I could beat you without even breaking a sweat!" she cried, yet sweat poured down her face from the strain of keeping herself in check from his taunting. "How can you? Why even your mentor moody couldn't land a spell, or even keep me under his weak attempt at an Imperious curse." That broke her. "HE NEVER USED THAT CURSE! YOU LIED! CRUCIO!" the beam headed straight for harry's chest but he moved just slightly letting it impact harmlessly into the building behind him. She was rattled. She, the one who prided herself in being an auror and calm in battle, had used an Unforgivable. One minute 30 seconds. Lazily, harry cast a shredding curse which actually got through, slashing one of the straps on her tank top and her bra strap. Harry's eyebrows shot up in mock appreciation. Though she was nowhere near as well endowed as Ginny Weasley (harry had had more than one occasion to stare at her figure in the middle of double classes with the Gryffindors) Tonks wasn't an unattractive woman. "Well, if you weren't a mudblood, you'd be a fairly good play toy." Her disgust for harry shown on her face like a lamp post at diagon alley. "Like id ever want to touch something like you. Reducto!" she cast the explosion curse at Harry who cast his own spell cancelling charm with no eagerness. He was toying with her. He was toying with an elite auror and she could do nothing to stop it. "Oh now don't be like that. We'd have so much fun together." Looking down he saw it was finally at the 2 minute 30 second mark. Checking his link with Draco, he caught him Apparating with Hermione back to his flat. "Well as much as I'd like to continue this, I must be off." Throwing up his hand in a mock wave. "Until next time cousin." He apparated off just as a curse flew where he was. "Come back and fight me riddle!" she screamed into the morning air. Suddenly, Moody apparated behind her. "Tonks! What happened here!" his voice still made her shutter when he was angry. Turning, she saw in his face he was every bit as mad as she thought. "Sir, the Riddle boy just showed up and attacked me." She said standing her ground. "And did you think, for one single second, that it was a diversion?" he said getting closer to her. "What do you mean sir?" confused, Tonks tried to figure out what he was talking about. She then realized Harry had kept checking his watch. "They took the Granger girl!" she paled. Dumbledore wouldn't like this. Not one bit.