The room exploded in brilliant green light. Voldemort's eyes widened in surprise, he'd never seen a killing curse so powerful. A roar of sound filled the room and he shielded his eyes as the light became even brighter. And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone, leaving a pile of ash partially covered by a familiar black robe.

Voldemort tried to toe the pile, but discovered his foot was as corporeal as a ghost. A baby cried out from the crib to his left and he stared at in mild shock. It was definitely Harry, alive and well, with a large curse scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt. He had survived the killing curse, a feat supposedly impossible.

The door to the nursery creaked open slowly and the Dark Lord quickly pulled out his wand. Of course he could do nothing to stop whoever was entering, even though he deeply desired to throw a curse once he saw the pathetic piece of garbage that was wiggling its way into the destroyed room.

"My Lord," Pettigrew squeaked, nudging the robe on the floor. The rat's eyes fell on the late Lily Potter and the man let out a howl. "No, not Lily too. Lily and James gone," he whined. "My Lord, where have you gone?" His voice was fearful now, perhaps worried that he would finally be exposed as a traitor.

Pettigrew's role in the death of James and Lily Potter was the same in this world as it had been in reality. If things followed on their course, Sirius Black should be showing up anytime to dispatch with the sniveling waste of space.

Voldemort sneered as the man picked up a long, pale wand from the pile of ashes. "How dare you? Do you think you're fit to touch the wand of the most powerful wizard in…" His voice trailed off, not because he knew Pettigrew couldn't hear him, but because he now had to question whether he was truly the most powerful wizard in the world.

He turned back to look at the crying baby with the lightning bolt scar. Voldemort had never been able to block a killing curse, had never even had the courage to try. But a mere baby had thrown the curse back at him and nearly destroyed a part of his soul. It would take more than that, he thought with a smirk. After all, there are another five parts out in the world.

There was a loud rumbling sound coming from outside and Voldemort was surprised to see what looked like a flying motorbike making its way toward the Potter home. Pettigrew saw it too and he nearly tripped on his robes as he fled. Voldemort squinted his eyes and did his best to make out the dark figure riding on the strange machine.

"James!" A deep voice called out loudly. "Lily!"

Ah, so it is the infamous Sirius Black. The man looked as dark and dangerous as he had those many years ago when Voldemort watched him be lead away by a large group of Dementors. Black hadn't even flinched when those cold hands had touched his skin instead he merely glared at the Dark Lord, eyes full of hate and fury. He'd assumed Voldemort had killed the entire Potter family, including young Harry. Voldemort wondered now how Black had taken it when he'd finally found out the truth of the matter.

A telltale crack of apparition rang out from the front lawn. Then there was another crack and another. Aurors, he assumed, and most likely members of the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore was easiest to spot; Voldemort could see his long white beard reflecting the moonlight. Before he knew what was happening, the Dark Lord found himself standing amongst the Aurors.

"There's no Dark Mark," a young Frank Longbottom exclaimed excitedly, "Maybe James and Lily got away."

Dumbledore shook his head. "We have no way of knowing for sure what happened here until we enter the house. I suggest we stay close together as we enter. Hagrid, can I trust you to make a thorough sweep of the back lawn?"

The giant oaf nodded fiercely and headed off without a word. Voldemort followed him behind the Potter home where Black was preparing to apparate, a wild look in his eyes. Apparently he'd seen what had become of the Potters. He couldn't have made it upstairs though; he must be assuming that Harry is dead as well. And why wouldn't he really? When had Voldemort ever left anyone alive?

"Sirius, where're you headin' off to? Do ya know what happened to James and Lily?"

Black nodded angrily, a look of fury in his dead eyes. "I've got something I need to do Hagrid. Look after my bike, until I get back, will ya?"

Hagrid nodded. "O' course, but where…" With a crack Black was gone and Voldemort knew where he'd gone and what he'd gone to do.

So this part is different, the Dark Lord commented idly as he left Hagrid and popped back to the nursery. In the real word, Sirius Black killed Pettigrew at Godric's Hollow. Messed him up pretty well from what Voldemort could make out from the original Ministry reports.

The world around him changed and he found himself standing next to Dumbledore. The mirror's magic had a strange way of moving him around its imaginary world. Apparently there were certain events it deemed more important then others, or perhaps it was only making those decisions using Voldemort's own thoughts and perceptions.

Dumbledore was looking down at James Potter's still warm corpse. "Poor James," he commented as he ran a hand over the man's face to close his wide, dead eyes. "You put up a good fight."

"He sure did," Frank Longbottom stated fiercely.

His wife Alice saddled up along side him. "There must have been some kind of explosion." She pointed at the stairs. "Those don't look too safe at the moment. Do you suppose Lily's up there? Perhaps she tried to destroy the steps so You-Know-Who couldn't follow her."

Dumbledore shook his head, his eyes betraying his thoughts. "Voldemort wouldn't be stopped by something so minor. I will journey upstairs and see what I can find. Kingsley, can you contact the ministry and have them send someone for James." Kingsley nodded.

The whole group held their breath as a loud cry came from somewhere on the second floor.

"Harry!" The Longbottom woman exclaimed excitedly. "Harry's still alive!" She moved to rush up the stairs but Dumbledore held her back.

"He may not be alone." The old wizard cast a featherlight charm on himself and began to ascend the partially destroyed staircase. He moved slowly, but Voldemort could see the determination in the old man's blue eyes and a secret knowledge.

"What do you know old man?" Voldemort whispered under his breath, wishing that the mirror's magic allowed for Legilimency.

"Lily?" Dumbledore called out loudly before slowly pushing open the door to the nursery. Harry's cries became a loud string of hiccupping coughs as the light from Dumbledore's wand lit the room.

The look in Dumbledore's eyes when he finally noticed the body of Lily Potter was one of extreme sadness, but no surprise. Voldemort could tell that the man had expected all of this to happen and he watched closely as the old wizard lifted Harry from his crib and wiped a finger over the boy's forehead. Dumbledore pulled his hand back quickly as if he'd been burned. "A curse scar," he whispered.

Suddenly the world around Voldemort shifted oddly, apparently the mirror had more important things to show him and he soon found himself standing in Dumbledore's office. The oaf Hagrid held a small babe in his arms as he sniffled into a handkerchief that could double as a tablecloth.

"Poor James and Lily," he wailed. "And Peter! I don't believe it sir. Why would Sirius do a thing like that?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I don't understand it either Hagrid, but Sirius has been taken to Azkaban."

"Without a trial?"

"The Ministry is in shambles at the moment. The Aurors are arresting anyone who might have been in league with Voldemort. I'm hoping to convince them to allow a trial for Sirius at a later date, but emotions are high right now."

Hagrid nodded in understanding. "What about Harry?" He motioned at the sleeping baby in his arms.

"I think it would be best if he were hidden away from the magical world. Lily has a muggle sister living in Surrey, I plan on sending the boy to live there for the time being."

"Harry Potter living with muggles," Hagrid commented, "sounds strange considerin' what he's just done."

"And what has he done Hagrid?" Dumbledore questioned calmly.

"He destroyed You-Know-Who," Hagrid stated fiercely. "The evil git's just a pile of ash now, ain't he?"

"Even if Voldemort has truly been destroyed, we have no way of knowing that it was Harry that is responsible for his downfall. And, even if he is, he is still in danger."

"Death Eaters." Hagrid nodded in understanding. "I'd almost forgot about them. Some o' them are just as evil as You-Know-Who."

"And who knows what they may try now that their master is presumed to be dead," Dumbledore added in a serious tone. "I must ask you to bring Harry to this address." He handed the other man a small slip of parchment. "Minerva has been watching over the family since the incident at the Potter's and I plan on joining her shortly."

The world melted again and Voldemort was standing on a street corner in the dead of night. He pressed a hand on his forehead while trying to catch his bearings. All of this shifting around was starting to give him a headache. Looking around he knew immediately that he was in the muggle world. The houses stood like tombstones, one exactly like the next and the next after that. It was sickening.

The streetlight above his head suddenly went out and he turned quickly. Dumbledore was making his way down the street, a familiar looking stern witch at his side. It was Minerva McGonagall, a woman that existed in Voldemort's reality. If he remembered correctly, she works at the school in the role of Transfiguration Professor and Deputy Headmistress. A powerful witch from Snape's description and one the dour Potions Master has always held in high regard.

"Are you certain you wish to leave the boy with these people? I've watched them all day and they're the worst sort of muggles imaginable," the woman pleaded.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Lily's sister is the last of Harry's family. The child will be safe here."

McGonagall didn't appear convinced. "Who is bringing the boy?"

"Hagrid," Dumbledore said just as the loud roar of a motorcycle could be heard in the distance.

"You trust Hagrid with something so important?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life."

Voldemort snorted loudly at that.

The world shifted again and he found himself in a small, dark room. He marveled at the magic of the mirror. The cupboard was small, yet he could stand without a problem. The mirror had shrunk him to fit.

Voldemort eyed Harry, taking note of the lightning bolt shaped scar that stood out just as much as it had the night it had been branded into the boy's forehead. The boy lay on a rusty old cot, staring at the ceiling with a look of complete despair. The Dark Lord was surprised how different this world's Harry looked from his own. This child was obviously malnourished and abused. A large purple bruise covered Harry's right arm, with a matching one on the left. Just looking at this wretch of a creature made Voldemort want to kill the disgusting muggles.

Then he remembered that these muggles existed in his own world as well. A large smile split his face. There would be hell to pay once he got things sorted with Harry's wand. Not right away though, no, that wouldn't be right. He'd wait until Harry was older and more powerful. He'd wait until Harry was his true equal and then they would go visit these muggles and he would exact revenge for this world's Harry Potter, even if they'd done nothing wrong in the real world.

After all, it's the thought that counts.

DSz

Harry turned down another dark corridor, Nagini trailing along on his left. "I think we're lost," he told the snake matter-of-factly. "We've been down this hall twice now." The snake nodded and hissed, but Harry couldn't understand. O, how he wished he could speak Parseltongue.

"Mr. Potter," a cold voice said from behind, causing Harry to start.

He turned to find the Headmaster sneering down at him. "Headmaster Snape," he greeted in a polite tone, shaking away his fear. This man is a Death Eater, he reminded himself, and Voldemort is the master of all Death Eaters. "Perhaps you can assist me. I want to sit in on some classes, which do you think would be most interesting?"

The Headmaster appeared surprised for a moment, but his former aloof expression returned almost immediately. "The Potions classroom is around the next corner. I believe Professor Slughorn has the sixth years brewing Felix Felicis."

"The luck potion, hmmm. That would be interesting."

Severus found himself surprised once again. Surprised that such a young boy would know anything about potions. Actually, everything about the boy was confusing. Nothing about Harry Potter seemed right. The boy didn't act his age and more than that, the boy didn't seem to understand that there was any other way to act. Severus found the whole situation disconcerting and for once in the poor Headmaster's life HE didn't know how to act.

"Professor McGonagall's second year class is transfiguring animal's into water goblets," he continued, watching the boy for any sort of typical reactions.

He was sorely disappointed when the Potter boy grinned and shook his head. "I've already done that and it certainly isn't very difficult. How old are the second years, shouldn't they have learned something like that already?"

"Most of the second year children are twelve or thirteen. May I inquire as to your age Mr. Potter?"

"I'm nearly six and a half," Potter replied proudly, "Although I believe it is considered rude to ask a person's age." Then the boy had the audacity to laugh. "But since you're a very well respected Potions Master and the Headmaster of this school, I'll forgive you this once."

Snape's lips twitched at that, nearly smiling at the boy's odd behavior. He'd never met a child he couldn't intimidate, but really, what could he expect from a child who'd grown up with the Dark Lord. He expected there wasn't much in this world that Harry Potter feared, the large snake coiled around the boy's feet attested to that.

"Perhaps a game of wizard's chess would pass the afternoon," Severus found himself suggesting. He wondered where the idea had come from. Surely he didn't really want to spend time with a six-year old Harry Potter. No, of course that wasn't it. He merely wanted to get closer to his master's protégé, think of the jealous look on Lucius' face. That thought brought a small smile to his lips.

"That might be for the best." The boy rubbed his knees. "My legs are very tired and I could use some tea."

Once again Severus was surprised at the boy's mature tone of voice. "My office is unavailable at the moment, but my private quarters are here in the dungeon." He motioned to a painting of a dark night sky that hung at the end of the corridor. "If that would be acceptable."

The child passed in front of him, Nagini close at his side. Severus wondered, not for the first time, if this was such a good idea. Taking the six-year old protégé of the Dark Lord into his private quarters? The entire situation sounded like the beginning of a Daily Prophet article touting his death. But it was too late, the boy was standing in front of the painting to his private rooms.

"Does it open with a password?"

"Polyjuice," Severus called out loudly and the painting swung inward.

Harry grinned. "A password only a Potions Master could love. I hate Polyjuice. Voldemort and I used it the first few times he took me to Diagon Alley." His face screwed up. "It was absolutely disgusting."

Severus nodded in agreement. "I believe it's the boomslang skin which makes it taste so horrific, but I haven't yet found any ingredient that can mask the flavor and not change the effects of the potion."

"Your rooms are very nice." The boy took a seat on the dark brown settee while Severus fetched his chess set. Nagini slithered over to the fire, making sure to keep her keen eyes on Harry. "I suppose you don't know what Voldemort's up to."

Severus shook his head and began setting up the chessboard. "He only asked for use of my office. I believe he must be speaking with Dumbledore."

Harry cocked his head to the side, studying the Headmaster with familiar green eyes. Eyes that caused a shiver to run down Severus' back. "You knew Dumbledore when he was alive, right?"

"Correct," Severus replied stiffly, "I was a spy in the Order of the Phoenix."

"Voldemort's told me all about them. He said Dumbledore was a really powerful wizard, but sometimes I think he must be exaggerating. What did you think of him?"

It took a moment for Severus to form a response. There were too many memories battling in his mind. "Dumbledore was a very, very powerful wizard, but he chose the losing side."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think he chose anything. Voldemort told me that Dumbledore believed something different then him and that's why Voldemort had to kill him, just like my parents. Did you know them too?"

Once again Severus found himself speechless for a moment or two, but then he realized that the boy was attempting to weasel information about James and Lily Potter. Of course the boy had to ask about the one subject that Severus dearly wanted to avoid.

Playing things on the safe side, Severus asked, "Has the Dark Lord told you anything about what happened to your parents?"

"He told me that he killed them," the boy answered bluntly. "He told me that they fought him and he had to kill them." Harry paused and swallowed past a lump in his throat. "He killed them to get to me, because he wanted to kill me."

Severus nodded and did his best to mask his discomfort at the boy's shocking explanation. "Your parents loved you very much, I know your mother fought to the very end to protect you." He shifted in his seat and eyed the boy carefully. "Does it upset you to talk of them?"

"No." Harry shook his head and reached for his teacup. "I don't remember them at all. Besides, I have Voldemort. I'm sure they're happy for me wherever they are."

Severus cocked his head to one side. The situation was already absurd, but the child's statement cast the conversation into the surreal. "I suppose they would be," he stated with an automatic grin. He felt like the Mad Hatter serving up tea to Alice. But in this case it's the Hatter who is sane while Alice is quite mad.