A/N: before I start this story, I'd just like to say thank you for reading this and it's the first story I've written and actually published, so no flames…please? Anyway, sorry for any grammar mistakes but I have no beta; enjoy!
Warning: contains neglect/abuse and somewhat manipulation
October 31st, 1981
"Lily, grab the kids! Run! Go, I'll-" The young father didn't get a chance to finish the sentence because he was hit with a spell that sent him crashing to the floor, immobile and barely alive. Lord Voldemort stood behind the body, griping his wand tightly.
The cries of small children tore through the house at that moment and Voldemort stepped over James Potter's body, his Death Eaters in tow. Making little noise, Lord Voldemort crept up the stairs leading to the nursery and the target. Finally reaching the nursery, he blasted the door off its hinges and into Lily Potter's body; the woman was unconscious immediately and Voldemort smirked, they make it far too easy, he thought before looking over at the children.
"So, one of you are supposed to beat me, hmm?" He chuckled at their tearful faces. "Mm, which one? Decisions, decisions…" He eyed the children, noting that they were identical…well, except for their eyes. One twin, the thinner of the two, had green eyes, however the fatter of the two had brown eyes. Interesting, he smirked again, then turned his wand on the brown-eyed child. He absolutely despised the color of brown, it only served to remind him of an awful childhood, so he'd be rid of it.
"Avada Kedavra," He yelled as a familiar green light flew from his wand towards the child, but what he didn't expect was the other child's magic reaching out to his twin and blocking it, sending the killing curse right back and Lord Voldemort and creating a scar on the brown-eyed baby's forehead.
As Voldemort's body collapsed into dust, the Death Eaters scrambled to clear out but were met by an angry James Potter and a solemn Albus Dumbledore before they could get out. Within thirty minutes everything was counted for and recovered, including the children and Lily.
"Well," Dumbledore spoke to the terrified family, "It seems that little Brandon here has defeated Lord Voldemort." Lily and James shook at the mention of the name.
"So he's the prophecy child, headmaster?" Lily asked, looking at the brown-eyed child who just blinked dully.
"He bares the mark, Lils." James said, smiling.
"What will this mean for him and Harry, headmaster?" Lily asked in concern.
"Brandon will need to be trained once he's old enough to start, but until then you should focus on him. You need to make sure he is the opposite of Voldemort-" Lily and James shuddered again. "And by that I mean growing up well-loved and wanting for nothing. It would be ideal if you could leave little Harry somewhere else, but I can only imagine what the public would say." Dumbledore said wisely.
"Wait, you want to train him? I thought Brandon already defeated the Dark Lord, why would he need to train?" James asked worriedly, while Lily looked over at Harry thoughtfully. Would it be so bad if Harry didn't get so much attention? She thought, toying with the idea that Dumbledore presented. After all, she was sure Harry would understand one day…
"The Dark Lord has made some precautions against death, thus there is a great chance of him coming back. Brandon must defeat him when he does and in order to do so he must be trained." Dumbledore explained as James and Lily thought it over.
Sharing a look, it was decided. Grabbing James' hand, Lily sat up straight and looked Dumbledore in the eye. "We will agree to this, however we also know that Harry will want to be included in Brandon's training, so we ask that Harry be allowed to train, too."
The twinkle in the old man's eye hardened, but he smiled as an idea came to him. "Ah, as you wish Lily, however it won't be as strenuous for him as it is for Brandon. After all, Brandon is the Boy-Who-Lived and Harry…well, Harry just doesn't have the magical capabilities." Lily and James nodded happily.
"We understand, headmaster. Thank you." Lily gave him a smile and then clapped her hands together, standing. "Well, I think this has been a long enough day, so I think we should all get some sleep. Tomorrow we'll need to start redecorating and move Harry into a new room, I'm thinking the Attic?" Lily looked to James for conformation.
"Yes, of course, Lils. Anything you want. Hey, maybe you can even get those new curtains you wanted?" James grinned at Lily's now beaming face.
"Well, Lily is right. I best be leaving before the Daily Prophet gets wind of the story and blows it into something it's not." Dumbledore got up wearily, hearing his knees cracking with old age.
"Do you need any help, professor?" Lily asked kindly.
"Not at all, my dear. Not at all. It is merely old age calling me." He chuckled and headed towards the door, before turning back. "Lily, James, the next few days will be hard, but keep your heads up and I shall see you next week." With that, he left.
July 31st, 1988
Many things have changed since that Halloween night. The first thing to change was the placement and primary care of both twins. Though they grew up in the same house with the connection that all twins have, they grew apart. Harry was raised by house elves while Brandon was raised by James, Lily, nurse maids, and his godfathers.
When Harry first realized that his parents had abandoned him, he was three. Lily had been trying to get Brandon to read, but when Harry asked to learn…let's just say she wasn't too happy and Harry was sent to bed without being allowed lunch or dinner. Thanks to the House Elves, Harry had gotten to eat what was left over from his family's dinner that night because one of the House Elves had heard him crying and willingly given over its food to help the young master. The next day Harry had sought out the House Elf and begged the elf to teach him to read. Reluctantly, but not going against orders, the elf named Gobly helped him to read and once he was capable, the elf showed him the library where he would spend most of his days afterward. Including his eighth birthday.
After seeing his brother being thrown large birthday bashes each year, Harry had finally decided to stay in the library and wait it out. Books were his only escape from the horrible reality that Harry was used to and he devoured books like his brother ate candy. He lived a simple existence; he didn't take up much room and he avoided his parents like the plague, not wanting to be rejected like the times before.
"Ahem." Harry startled badly and looked up at the old man in front of him. Dumbledore, he thought with contempt.
"Yes?" He asked quietly, unused to being spoken to by actual people.
"Are you ready?" The man asked with a genial grin.
"For what, Mr. Dumbledore?" Harry asked coolly, pulling his pureblood mask on to hide himself from the creepy headmaster.
"For your training, of course." Dumbledore chuckled. Before Harry could even begin to answer, Brandon's voice came from behind the door.
"But mummy! I don't want Harry to train with me! It's not fair, I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, not him!" Brandon whined.
"We know, Brandy, but we made a deal before we knew that Harry's a squib." Lily simpered, coming into the room with James and Brandon following along.
Harry wasn't stupid, he knew his parents thought he was a squib but he didn't think it mattered until now. "Headmaster," Harry said stoically. "How will I be trained if I'm a squib?"
In response, Dumbledore chuckled. "Harry, my boy, you'll be training with Mr. Filch, the janitor at Hogwarts."
This gave Harry some pause. He had heard, of course, about the grumpy old janitor, but what Dumbledore didn't realize was that he was giving Harry full access to the castle and its grounds. Hiding his smirk well, he nodded towards the old man.
"Give me a few minutes to pack my bag and I'll leave with you." Harry took satisfaction when the twinkle in the old man's eye dimmed.
"Yes…yes, of course." The old man stated while Harry practically glided up the stairs to the attic. Hurriedly collecting his things he called for Gobly.
"Yes, young master?" The elf squeaked.
"No matter what my parents command you to do, if I call you, you must come. Understood?" Harry demanded.
"Understood." The elf bowed sadly and Harry sighed.
"This is goodbye for now, my friend." The elf shook slightly and stared at him.
"Friend, master?"
"You helped me when I needed it most, Gobly. You are the only one in the world I trust. Now, hurry along before they catch you up here." The elf left with a crack and Harry finished up packing just as James yelled for him downstairs.
"I'm here." He stated, walking next to Dumbledore.
"Finally." James muttered but Harry ignored him in favor of Dumbledore.
"Are we leaving by apparation, sir?" He asked quietly.
"Duh, I thought you were smart?!" Brandon smirk triumphantly while Harry just rolled his eyes.
"Honey, leave your brother alone. Now then, do you have everything?" Lily asked, clearly worried.
"Yes, mum." Brandon gave his mum and dad a kiss before hurrying out the door with Dumbledore and Harry behind him.
Gathering Harry and Brandon, Dumbledore and the boys were gone with a crack. To Harry it was the worst thing magic could possibly do. It felt as if he was being sucked up a small tube and his organs were being sucked apart. When it finally ended, Harry was forcing the bile in his throat to stay down. After a few minutes of recovery, he realized he was alone but up ahead was a beautiful castle. This castle was old, clearly, but it was beautiful and lit up, even in the day time. Drawing towards the castle in a slight daze, he noticed that standing in the doorway of the castle was a thin, unhealthy looking old man with a tabby cat at his feet.
"Potter." The man grunted and Harry noticed that he smelled really bad for someone who was supposed to clean a large castle.
Harry cleared his throat, "you're Mr. Filch, yes?"
"Don't be smart with me, you little brat. Follow me." Not wanting to upset the creepy man, he followed.
Minutes passed slowly as they walked down to Filch and Harry's new quarters. As time went on, Harry found himself admiring the stone work and the paintings that were staring right back at him. Finally, and maybe a bit sadly, they reached the corridor that held the rooms. Opening the door, Filch gave him an ugly glare.
"You had better not invite any little friends in here or I'll have your head, brat." Filch snarled. Looking around the musty, thread bare room, Harry swallowed hard and nodded. "Down that hall is your room on the left and the last room on the right is mine. The bathroom is the first on the right." With that, the bitter man went to his room and slammed the door.
Not knowing what else to do and not wanting to be around the cat, Harry went to his room and noted that it was just as musty and sad looking as the setting room. Sighing, he set his suit case down and began unpacking, though he didn't have much. Old clothes that were Brandon's rather big hand-me-downs (he had never lost his baby fat, in fact he'd gained some) and a few books that he liked. After putting things away, Harry relaxed on the bed falling asleep to the thoughts of a better life.