Disclaimer: I own NOTHING HERE! J. K. Rowlings owns Harry Potter as well as all characters, settings, and materials. The same goes for any familiar or recognizable characters, settings, material, or quotes that may have sneaked their way into this story. REMEMBER-I OWN NOTHING HERE!
As you can tell from the tittle, this is another Wrong-Boy-Who-Lived story-But with a liiitle twist added to it. There's going to be angst, and pain, and betrayal in this fic. Fans of that sort of thing, since you're reading this out of your own free will and sound mind, afterwards-please don't sent me any death threats, okay?
Right . . .let's get on with the story!
A case of mistaken identity has unintended consequences.
Harry's Wrong-Boy-Who-Lived
"Aaarrrrrggh! Mommy! Daddy! Help me!"
At the sound of the first terrified scream, little Harry Potter flattened his small body up against the brick side of the building he had been walking alongside of. His green eyes wide saucers as they stared up in the direction of the nearly inhuman screaming that was approaching with ungodly speed. His pounding heart nearly drowning out all sound, while his lungs valiantly clawed and pulled down air into his fear constricted chest!
Suddenly exploding around the corner, was the form of a laboring ten-year-old boy! His dark hair was wild and long, his dark eyes, wide and bulging with panic and terror, his straight aristocratic nose wide and flaring, his thin lips gaping wide apart as his open mouth vacuumed in needed air! Red faced, arms and legs pumping with every bit of strength and energy he had, ten-year-old Ian Potter flew past his twin brother!
"There he is!"
"Wait! Wait! I just want to talk to you!"
"-your autograph!"
"Let me shake your hand!"
"-my little girl-"
"-rub your head, for luck!"
"Let me have your baby!"
The loud, colorful, flowing mass of Human bodies turning into the street, after the disappearing back of Ian Potter, actually shook the ground! Harry whimpered softly in frozen terror-His throat actually closed shut, after a few faces turned his way; he resumed normal breathing after the mob had vanished, and the only evidence remaining of their existence was a distant incoherent shouting and a preternatural silence they had dragged in their substantial wake.
Gasping, Harry nearly collapsed against the wall-While he and Ian were twins, they were not identical twins. Ian shared their father's coloration and wild, untamable hair, but his facial structure was Lily's, their mother. Harry could have been a clone of James, their father, but had their mother's unusual shade of green eyes. Harry had a good reason to be afraid of his brother Ian's 'fans'. The last time a mob had mistaken Harry for his minutes younger sibling, Harry had woken up in a bed in St. Mungo's broken and in the worse pain he had ever been in! His mother softly weeping, Ian in screaming hysterics (a healer had to sedate him), while his father stood, grim and stoic, on the other side of his bed.
Oh, yeah, that was a bad one. If anything it strengthened Harry decision on keeping quiet on the biggest secret he ever had in his short eventful life, regardless of the great weight of shame and guilt he felt-That Ian Potter was not the Boy-Who-Lived.
It was a helluva claim, but Harry had memories of that night-He looked straight at the monster's red eyes and stared with innocent fascination at the green flash of light that hit him in the forehead and rebounded straight back to the monster! The dark lord was reduced to ash and dark spirit, with a lucky Harry getting knocked out by falling ceiling debris, and winding up with a lightening bolt-shaped scar. Baby Ian was not so luck-Dumbledore arrived and discovered unconscious, living parents and sibling and Ian standing in his crib, fat, pudgy baby arms stretched out towards black, discarded robes on the floor, a silver glow surrounding him.
Dumbledore immediately hailed the puzzled little boy as the 'Savior' of the Wizardling world-And thus for Ian began the life of running, hiding, fear, and frequent hospital visits brought about by violent, enthusiastic idiots.
Harry stared in the direction Ian and the mob had run to. He cocked his head, listening-Did that mob sound a tad bit louder? Could Ian be circling back? Again Harry felt overwhelming guilt . . .Ian abruptly appeared at the mouth of the street-A red haired girl, about his age or a little younger, flew through air, tackled him around the knees and brought him down! Immediately bodies appeared out of nowhere, landing on top of the couple and burying the unfortunate Boy-Who-Lived under a mass of flesh and garish robes!
In front of Harry's horrified eyes, the mass of shouting, screaming, cursing, clawing bodies heaved and violently quivered-Without warning, a pale figure squirmed and crawled out from the lot, it got to it's feet and fled! Harry witnessed his brother wearing only his white underwear and a single sock, his fair skin covered in welts and bruises, run away, his clothing torn off by his adoring 'fans'!
Harry gulped. His sense of guilt flaring bright and strong, but . . .Harry looked back at the fighting, cursing mound of fools. But by Merlin, there was no way he was ever going to confess to being the real Boy-Who-Lived!
And that was why, years later . . .
"Ian! I said I'm sorry!" Harry shouted desperately, backing away from his brother Ian. Ian's eyes wide and glowing with madness.
"Like if that's going to make up for all those nasty, nasty years I spend as the Boy-Who-Lived?" Ian said, softly, fingering an object in his hands. "I'll tell you right now, dear, dear brother, that no. No, that's not going to make anything all better. That's-that's not going to give me back my life. It's not-it's not going to undo the misery I've endured since that night. And Dumbledore . . .Well, he's a special case, isn't he?" Ian paused, and stared off into the distance. He blinked and stared back into his brother's eyes, dark meeting green. "But I have a solution . . .Something that will make us even." He purred. Ian held up the object in his hands. "See this Harry? A dark object. A true one-Not just a tool labeled such by a zealous hysteric. It takes a soul, reaching and digging and collecting every bit of that soul, no matter where it is, and hauls it down to Hell and Seals it there whether it deserves to be there or not!"
"Why are you telling me this, Ian?" Harry asked softly.
Ian grinned. "Because Harry, for what you did to me you deserve to go-Aaarrgh!"
As soon as Harry threw the floo powder into Ian's eyes he was running! The small canister he had palmed still falling as Harry dashed away! A loud CRACK! And in front of Harry stood the dark figure of the resurrected Voldemort!
"Harry Potter!" Voldemort triumphantly announced. Propelled by his momentum and unable to stop, Harry ran into the surprised dark lord, and with a twist of his body hauled and threw the once man behind him!
There was a flash of light and heat-In distance separate locations, objects and a living snake, rippled and shook as moaning, shrieking pieces of a soul were forcefully pulled out, brutally reunited and pulled directly into Hell!
Harry stumbled and gasped in pain as invisible claws stabbed into his scar and pulled out the wriggling piece of Voldemort's soul! At that moment, Harry felt a lightness and wholeness he had never felt before-Something he had gotten use to was gone, something dark and parasitic, and Harry admitted, mentally poking at the vacuum he felt, he was not going to miss it!
A mad howl of rage recalled Harry to his situation.
"NOOOOOOO! What have you done! It was meant for you! Bastard! You killed Voldemort!"
Oh, so Voldemort got caught by the . . .whatever it was Ian used to try to send me to Hell? Harry ran as fast as he could. Before long, the hexes and curses flew around him! Ian never could hit the side of a barn-How lucky for me!
As Harry ducked and weaved for his life and soul, a few new joyous voices joined Ian-"Ian destroyed the Dark Lord?"
And just like that, an insane new Dark Lord was born.
Hey! I warned you guys! No Hero Harry here!
And for those of you who are familiar with it, a tiny bit of Southpark did creep in. And, no, I don't own that either!
In all those WBWL stories, where the parents are still alive, Dumbledore encourages them to abuse or neglect Harry. That seemed so out of character for the crafty wizard. It just seemed to me that Dumbledore would see Harry as a distraction he could throw at the parents, while he honed and trained his 'weapon'.
But that's just what I think.
Well, this story is complete. I hope you, my readers, found it enjoyable. Good-bye and thanks!