Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
(Also, for anyone who cares, I used to be ofguttersandstars, but now I'm bluejanes.)
Harry James Potter is born on July 31, 1980. His twin, Charles Fleamont Potter is born exactly two minutes and thirty six seconds later.
Harry is born a healthy, happy baby. Charles is born with the overwhelming desire to take over the world.
Charles is brought into the world once again, after being reincarnated countless, hundreds of times.
Reincarnation is nothing special, nothing new, and Charles has lived so many lives that they've stopped counting a long time ago.
They've lived so many lives that they no longer need a name or a gender. They have been female and male, born into hundreds of different dimensions. They have been a wizard, a ninja, an alchemist, a warrior, a writer, a scientist, and almost everything under the sun.
Ah, they think, observing the happy couple and the baby next to them, here are more people I can use.
Taking over the world is a fun pastime, and people are just pawns for them to use in the game they call life.
(After all, they have died so many times that it is even easier than breathing.)
They have never needed anyone but themselves.
Not when they have died at the ages of two, forty three, and ninety nine and so many more.
Not when they still were in their second life, watching those they love die; not when they were still in their fourth life, being coldly murdered by the one they loved most.
They have experienced much more than a lifetime could ever hope to encompass.
Lily and James Potter hold their children, too proud and too happy to notice that one of them does not cry, that one of them has soulless, glinting eyes.
"They look exactly alike," breathes Lily, clutching her children close to her, "Harry and Charles."
(So alike, yet so different.)
Charles hears the words "Harry Potter" and it stirs long lost, almost forgotten (but not quite) memories from when Charles had only been a teenage girl obsessed with reading and watching shows.
They smirk, because this is one universe where they know exactly what will happen. And that makes it easy, too easy to take over the world.
They will take over the world, and they will not be forgotten.
Charles can feel magic inside their body.
They really shouldn't, but they can.
A life as a wizard is nothing special—they have lived with magical abilities before, and learning to control it is not that much of a big deal anymore.
Though there are differences in every universe, most of the fundamentals of magic are the same. Which makes it laughingly easy for Charles to begin to control his magic.
After all, it's simply just a matter of learning to use something that's already there.
And so, they choose to pass the agonizingly boring days as a baby by learning to mold their magic; feeling the spark building up inside of them and pulling on it, spreading it through their body and feeling power running through their veins.
This comes unnoticed to James and Lily, who only see a quiet, calm newborn who never cries.
Charles is not a fussy child, but they are not much of a child either.
They never talk, never babble, never reach for Lily and James with short, chubby arms; never smile or laugh. They are silent. Too silent.
Harry, on the other hand, is too expressive. He cries, laughs, touches Lily's stunning red hair that tickles his cheek whenever she leans over, and is a loud, normal child.
The two of them are both Lily and James' "beautiful baby boys", but Charles is neither a baby nor a boy. They are more than that, a thousand and one lives in one soul; shoved and crammed to the brim, almost ready to explode.
They laugh in the face of Death, because it has been a long time since Death has been their master. Life is their slave, and this world will be the same. Charles will make sure of it.
And they'll start out by becoming the Dark Lord of the wizarding world, because whoever needed Voldemort anyway? He's just a pathetic little child vying for immortality and power but never really understanding what true immortality and power are.
Tom Marvelous Riddle is a poor little fool and he will suffer for it.
Lily Evans is a particularly observant woman, and she knows there is something wrong with one of her children, even though James is still blind to it.
Charles has never been like Harry, and she really doesn't think he ever will be.
She can still remember those blank, hollow green eyes—her eyes—that blinked back at her over the body of a dead cat in their backyard. So empty, so cold. Like the darkness of the deep sea, going down, down, down until there's nothing but darkness and suffocating pressure.
The neighborhood stray cat had laid there, its fur in tangled clumps and covered in dirt, barely stretching over a bone-thin body. Harry had taken one look and started wailing, but Charles, Charles had just tilted his head and given Lily an eerily calm smile.
A Cheshire cat, she'd thought, looking at his toothless gums curving into a wicked shape.
She is a mother, but she is terrified of her child. It is a terror born of horror, of an instinct too primal to understand, but Charles is her baby boy. He is the gift she wanted from the world, along with Harry, and he is the child of herself and James. He is theirs. (But not. She knows, deep down, that he has never really belonged to anyone but himself, has never loved anything or anyone other than himself.)
Most days, Charles is complacent and silent, and these are the better days. Lily finds it easier to love him then. But other days, when he is all angry fists and feet and ear shattering screams, she hates him. He is not a good brother to Harry; never shares or cuddles or touches him, and most importantly, he does not share.
Charles throws tantrums bad enough to make Lily want to break down in tears, because the only thing worse than an angry baby is a magical angry baby. And these only happen when he has to share with Harry, and Charles always gets his way.
Perhaps she is being too weak, too afraid, but Charles is not normal, and never has been. Lily has already accepted that, and she has more than enough people to love.
It is cruel, but she knows the people around her, and she knows enough to leave Charles alone.
And it is better that way.
A/N: This is gonna be a long AN simply because I think Charles might be a confusing character with weird motivations. So here's some explanations.
[side note: I've been working on this for a while now, but it was more of a random idea that I needed to get out of my head. So this is more of a tentative prologue where I'm trying out this idea. Not sure if I'll continue this yet, but I do have a general idea of what I want to write.]
This will be an AU because Harry will definitely not be the same as he was in canon. With Charles as a brother, he's bound to mature earlier and develop a darker view on life.
Extra info stuff: Charles is definitely an antagonist who isn't afraid of using others for "his" own gain. I refer to him as "they" because Charles doesn't have a gender and has lived through so many lives that identity is something they've lost. Charles doesn't really identify as anything, just basically a person. (ok so im gonna admit im not too familiar with genderfluid identity and stuff and I really hope this doesn't offend anyone… if im getting this wrong, PLEASE correct me but please yell nicely im weak ;-;)
The reason why Charles has no concern for others and doesn't consider himself a part of the Potter family is because they have lived too much. Imagine living and dying hundreds of lives, watching the ones you love die before you, or dying before you can even find love. Charles is messed up, because life and death have become meaningless after being reincarnated so many times (it's like being immortal but not really), and people just don't really matter to them anymore. They've pretty much developed psychopathic tendencies towards emotions and the value of life.
Anyway, thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.