Chapter 1

Voldemort lay in his bed, confused, scared, and unsure of anything. The men who had been in here with him had shortly after left, saying they needed to discuss the present situation. He couldn't remember anything,

and it frightened him out of his mind. What was he to do? Massaging his throbbing temples, the man thought hard, until a face and a name flashed through his mind. Harry Potter. And then a place……if only he could find a way there. Stepping cautiously out of the bed and putting on a set of robes that he found in his closet, he left, quietly. He walked out to the corner of the vast estate, now he had no idea where to go. The winds, characteristic of the area, were cold despite it being near the end of August, prompting to cover his face with the hood of his cloak. He struggled to figure out what he should do, and for some reason concluded that he needed to hold up the stick in his robes, outward, and wait.

A blinding set of lights appeared not far from where he stood. The sound like that of train caught the man off guard as an enormous three-decker bus nearly run him over. The door opened.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus….." Stan Shunpike recited in monotone, as if bored with the job.

Voldemort, looking awed, stepped onto the bus, fumbling through his cloak for the few odd coins in them, and took a seat, instinctually grabbing onto one of the bars next to the bed he'd chosen. Something told him he was in for a bumpy ride.

Later that day, in a huge hustling, bustling, business district, by the name of Diagon Alley…..

"Hurry up guys, we gotta get to Fred and George's shop!" Ron urged his group. His brothers owned a new joke shop, one that was quickly becoming the most successful in Diagon Alley.

Harry, Ron's best friend, hurried to be beside the redhead, he too wanted to get to the shop. "Ron, don't worry, we'll all get there."

Voldemort exited through the small bar, asking someone to let him into the alley, as his gut told him that he needed a password or something and he just couldn't remember it. He entered the odd place. It was chock full of strange people, all dressed as he was, only their cloaks and robes were much more colorful, much more bright, which his head just wasn't enjoying. He pushed his way through the people, knowing he must seem disoriented to them. He only hoped that he would be able to find this person, Harry Potter.

" Excuse me, sir, do you need help, are you lost?" asked the kind sounding voice of a woman. He turned to the side and put his hand to his head at the increase in pain.

He looked at her. "Harry Potter….." Voldemort told her, the only thing he could think of to say, before he stumbled forward, then backward, losing his hood.

The scream from the woman only more pain. "IT'S YOU-KNOW-WHO! HE'S IN THE ALLEY HELP!"

Voldemort looked at her. "Wait! Please……who…..?" He had no way of knowing what or who she was screaming about. He grabbed her sleeve.

"EEEEE GET OFF ME! HELP ME!" She flung him from her.

He stumbled back again, in surprise and now a rising fear. He stumbled about, in a run, only receiving screams from every direction he went. There was only one thing going on in his mind. "Help me someone, please….." He ran, awkwardly, only getting more lost before collapsing in an alley behind a small shop. He shook, and fought tears. "Someone help me please……"

The backdoors to the shop opened and out stepped a group, not even noticing him, too in a hurry to escape the obvious danger. They were a group of redheads, one with brown, and finally…..a familiar face, though he was too upset to notice. It was a boy with a mop of messy black hair, wearing what appeared to be a baggy shirt and a pair of pants in the same baggy fashion. The boy ran past him too, or started to, until, something seemed to stop him. The frightened man looked up slowly, into the wide green eyes of the boy he'd been searching for. Maybe this had been a mistake, maybe this boy would be scared of him too. Just like the woman, and everyone he had run into in his panic to get away from the screaming. Or worse, maybe this boy would refuse to help him, or even hurt him. Maybe that's what everyone did here. His tears fell faster and he shook harder as he looked into those cold green eyes. He tried to scoot up closer to his wall, and to hide in his cloak. He even made it so he didn't have to look into those eyes.

A shadow covered him and a moment later he heard a voice. "Come on, let's get you inside." It was the boy he noted. He uncovered his face and looked into this time, a kind face and a hand outstretched in invitation. Hesitantly, silently, he took the hand and allowed the boy to lead him into the shop.

AN: Well, okay so maybe this isn't gonna be as funny as I first planned it to be. I know he seems OOC, but imagine how you'd feel in his position. I had thought it would make a funny story, but the more I thought about it, I realized that amnesia is serious business. He's hurt, and scared, and confused, and lost, and with no one who will help him. Sorry, I'm ranting. But I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please R&R