Harry Potter fulfilled his destiny, and the wizarding world is at peace. But he isn't. Hermione thinks he's haunted by the war. Ron has no idea. Ginny can't understand. McGonagall thinks time heals all wounds, and a straight lace lifestyle is all Harry needs to abide by now. But Harry knows, he's not haunted by the war. He misses it. He feels lacking.

So in search of true fulfillment, he turned to other means. After a year of shirking from society, he finds a ritual cloaked in a barely explored branch of magic that he feels an intristic pull to. Welcome to 1971, in an alternate universe where Harry Potter doesn't exist. Hadrian Riddle however, does. Perhaps a bit of a hastily concocted alias, but Harry Potter was willingly to take it, if he could fully embrace that warm feeling of being alive again.

Chapter 2

"I Find It More Cosy"

(Four Months Earlier)

The train shone in the mid-morning light, its platform bustling with all manner of toads, witches, owls, wizards, cats, and one very grumpy sugar glider.

"Do remember to owl, darling! Owl as soon as you can!" Her voice was powerful to reach over all the others to her target. "And don't forget to give Professor Merryweather our well wishes! And honey do remember-"

We'll have to suppose James Potter did not remember whatever it is his mother would have liked him to, because the whistle of the train blared loudly and drowned out her last words.

The gleaming red Hogwarts Express rose to action with great noise, and with enthusiasm hundreds of children cheering, it began to slowly leave the station. James was still leaned out a compartment window, cheeks a little red from embarrassment, but after eyeing the platform, he didn't mind his mum and da having calling after him. Many parents did the same, and at the least his mum didn't cry great big fat tears like a couple embarrassing mums did.

He gave a hearty wave, unable to hear a thing anymore but he could see his mum's mouth making out words. He shrugged a little to himself and knew it was pointless, but he waited until after they began to fade into the crowd, and the crowd and platform faded away completely, to lean back into his compartment with a great sigh of contentment.

He most likely would not write his parents at the earliest convenience, because he would a little to busy ruling the castle as he planned. But he would make sure to write them sometime soon enough- after all he has to tell them at some point of how he became a Gryffindor, and he had give a grand recap of all the adventures he would have.

James was in the middle of a particularly detailed daydream where he was riding a hippogriff, and all the girls in Hogwarts were cheering as he swooped down towards them holding the wand of the Dark Lord in one hand and in the other a-

Did that shadow up there just move? The one by the trunk that wasn't James'? Thinking of it now, it was odd someone just left their trunk in an empty compartment and didn't come back...

James peered more closely at the rack above the seating opposite him in the compartment, only to jump back when the supposed shadow rolled over, slipped out, and kerplunked onto the floor in a very nasty way. Something made a crackling sound.

"Are-are you alright?' James was too confused to question anything else at the moment. The stranger didn't answer, choosing instead to dust themselves off and stand abruptly and smile.

"Er, wow, hi- I'm Hadrian. Hadrian, um, Riddle."

"James," he answered slowly. "James Potter." The other boy smiled a smidge brighter. "Say, what were you doing up in there?" The boy, Hadrian, threw himself down across the other side of the compartment with an air of complete indifference.

"What were you doing down here?" The boy shot back. James thought to himself for a moment.

"Well, thinking I suppose. And sitting. Which is what seats are for, you know." The boy waved a hand dismissively.

"That's what they want you think."

"Who?" James was bewildered. Hadrian Riddle sat up again in a swift move, and leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Them. You know. But then again, who cares anymore? The corporation is everyone." Again he props himself up on his elbows with feet up and his body spanning one side the compartment. He didn't say anything, and James didn't know quite what to do. The silence was broken by the distorted voice of the trolley lady calling outside in the corridor of the train.

'Fancy a froggie?" James offered almost despite himself. The boy smiled again that smile, a little too wide.

"Only if it's chocolate. Not one for the delicacies over here." James stood to get the chocolate frogs as the voice drew nearer and hacked a bit of a grin before tossing a comment back.

"Not much of a Frenchman myself, I s'pose." He slid the door open enough and stepped out but before he went to the bustling candy vendor, he popped his head back into his compartment. He eyeballed this boy, this Hadrian Riddle. "Say though, I have to know, what in Merlin's saggy left tit was yourself doing up there?"

"Riding a train," the boy answered. He was still smiling just so, "and well, I find it... how do I say? Well, cosy, I suppose. Yes, that works the best. Cosy." James frowned a little.

Hadrian Riddle closed his green green eyes, and James went to go get a couple of chocolate frogs.

And that was that.