A/N: This is a really short chapter, it is kind of the prologue. Please read and review and enjoy.

A tall gangly boy of seventeen, with dark hair and eyes that of which were emerald green stood an inch from death on a battlefield of blood and death. He had endured the most painful and trying event ever in his short lifetime: He had defeated Lord Voldemort. Yet, he didn't seem so happy about it, he should have been, but he wasn't.

"What's wrong, Harry?" His bushy-haired friend, Hermione, asked him.

"Yeah, mate, you're looking rather down." His best friend Ron said.

"I dunno it's just… well, weird. Don't you think so?" Harry muttered. "Yeah, yeah it is. He's finally gone, and now what do we have?" He continued.

"Each other. Harry, we three survived the biggest genocide in the history of the world. We still have each other and lives to live out." Hermione answered.

"Exactly, Hermione, what would we have done without each other, Harry?" Ron said.

"I don't know. I just wish none of this had happened." Harry mumbled.

"You wish that Voldemort hadn't died?" Ron asked incredulously.

"No, I just wish he hadn't lived. The only reason he killed was because he was afraid of death. He allowed his fear to fester and by doing that people feared him." Harry finished.

"Harry, how do you know that?" Hermione questioned.

"I saw it in his head, when we were battling and I blocked one of his Legilimens attacks." Harry answered.

"How much do you know about Voldemort?" Hermione voiced.

"I know everything." Harry attested. And with a deep breath he started one of his greatest stories yet…

On the frostiest, whitest day in all of winter, December Thirty-First, a young woman with child in peasant's clothing knocked loudly on the oak door of St. Joseph's Orphanage of London. A portly woman, in nun's attire, answered the door. The pregnant woman and the nun conversed quietly and the nun let in the pregnant woman and she closed the large and thick oak doors behind them.

"Oh thank you for letting me in—I'm sorry, but I do not know your name." The pregnant woman said in the warmth of the orphanage.

"I am Sister Ruth, and I am glad you came to our humble abode, Madame." Sister Ruth said graciously.

The pregnant woman was about to say a word of thanks when she started breathing sharp, fast breaths.

"Oh my. Oh my, you are in labor. Quick we need to get you to the nurse!" Sister Ruth rushed.

The odd pair of women bustled down the hallway as fast as they could. They stopped in front of a door that had a small plaque that said 'Nurse'. Sister Ruth rapped her fist three times on the door when it was opened by an old woman with grey wispy hair and a very sour disposition.

"I told you, Sister that— oh my, in labor are we? Oh my, oh my." There was a moment of silence as the nurse thought to herself. " Well get in here you two!" She snapped out of her reverie and gestured them into a cramped room with yellow walls and a lamp by the bed-stand.

The pregnant woman quickly fell into the bed and began to breathe quicker and more loudly.

"Take it easy, missy." The nurse said. "You have to breathe slow deep breaths."

She started to breathe more slowly, but then she let out a loud gasp of pain.

"The baby is coming!"

-Several hours later-

"That's a pity the poor woman died. What was her name again?" The nurse asked Sister Ruth.

"Her name was Merope Gaunt Riddle." The nun whispered.

"That was good that she named the boy before she died. If it was up to me, I might have named him Abraham or Malachi." The nurse continued. "It is sad, that she named her child after her husband and he left her."

"I have a bad, gut feeling that this boy will lead a sad life." Sister Ruth finished the conversation, walking briskly holding the boy in her arms.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this! Further installments will include horcruxes, Chamber of Secrets, Hogwarts, etc. Please give me any thoughts or ideas you have on this in a review.