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Chapter 2

As Lily's emerald eyes widened in shock, the scarlet eyed man started laughing. It was by no means a pleasant kind of laughter, but a cruel and surprisingly bitter laugh.

He stared at the boy that stood upon with a usual cold and calculating gaze.

"You've got guts boy, I'll give you that. With the eyes of a Slytherin and a foolishness of a Gryffindor…it would be a pity to kill you…if it weren't for that foolish prophecy…"

As he said this with a hint of regret and glee in his voice, the dark haired man calmly pointed his wand towards Harry.

"Avada Kadavra!"

"No!"

Before Lily could stop the spell, a green flash of light appeared, followed by a piercing scream…

And then everything went dark.

From the deep end of the house, a small chuckle could be heard as a figure emerged from the shadows. It was a young man, no more than twenty five years old. He had unusually pale skin, along with long silver hair that reached his waist. The man's eyes were the color of the night, dark and mysterious, and his black cloak to go along. He was a figure of beauty: his grace and features outmatching a male-veelas. On that handsome face he held a cold smirk and knowing gaze that was fixed were upon the three bodies that lay upon the ground as he slowly bent down and picked up the one closest to him. Harry.

"Hmph. Foolish humans. They cannot even see the difference between a priceless jewel and a useless rock. He would be wasted here." He said in a strange, yet charming voice.

Giving one last laugh, he waved his hands and called upon a swirling darkness that devoured

him along with the small boy in his arms. When the darkness had finally gone away, they had vanished.

-----------------------------------------------A week later----------------------------------------------------

The wizarding world had never been happier. The Dark Lord Voldermort was gone, and his death eaters had scattered and were captured without the protection of their powerful master. Wizards and witches of all ages around the world were cheering, and praising the boy who lived: Jerry Potter.

It was said a few days ago when the Dark Lord had tried to attack the famous Potter family, one of his spells had some how rebounded upon himself in an attempt to kill the child of Lily and James Potter. The dark Lord was vanquished, and Jerry had survived with a mere scar.

One would think that the happiest of all would be the fellow residents of the Potter manor, but this was not the case.

Lily Potter sat in her room. She looked extremely pale and sickly, and her once glittering emerald eyes were darkened with despair. Harry was gone. He had vanished as if he never existed after the spell. James had said when he came back he only saw her and Jerry with a scar of lightening on his chest, said to be the result of reflecting the killing curse, and there no traces of Harry. They had searched for days and days, but it was all in vain.

Oh, how she wished she could turn back time. Her heart was filled with guilt as she recalled the treatment of her son. They had neglected him, ignored him ever since his birth. The boy would've probably never known what love was if it wasn't for Remus, who had taken a liking towards the boy. Harry probably never even experienced a hug from her or James, and it was their fault. And now he was gone, gone and all this regret could not bring him back. As she buried her tear-stained face in her arms, she could feel James hand upon her shoulder.

James Potter himself was not feeling so good. His usually sloppy grin was gone, replaced by deep frown. He was a horrible father; he knew that. Never even gave the boy a birthday party. He had always felt uneasy towards his other son, and was awkward and cold towards him. He felt as if the son was not his; a Potter that bore a dark element was not something he was happy about. Still, he had realized too late that was no excuse to treat such a young child so horridly. Now he stood here bathed in his own guilt, regretting what he had done.

He still remembered when Remus found out about Harry's disappearance. The usually calm and gentle were wolf was in state of hysteria: his grew-haired friend had screamed and yelled, slamming and breaking things in a violent way that didn't belong to him. James knew how important Harry was to Remus: they had met only a few times but the kind man had loved Harry as his own cub. And it hurt when Remus had looked at him in an unusual way, as if accusing him of the very sin he had had committed towards his own child: neglection. Remus had left after that and said he needed to think things over.

James didn't blame him: he was too guilty to blame anybody but himself. Sirius had tried cheering him up: but the canine man himself wasn't so excited about his own actions. He had knew that he too, had paid all his attention on Jerry and had ignored the child that was now gone.

Even Jerry, as slow and immature as he was, could tell something was wrong. He had tried calling his for parents to play and they had ignored him: something that had never happened before. They only ignored that t other boy who always watched them when they played with sad green eyes. He realized, as he stared towards the shadowy corner of the house: the boy that usually sat there, was gone.

Somewhere far, far away from the depressed residents of the Potter manor, sat a silver-haired man who was smiling as his dark gaze focused upon a beautiful child in front him. The boy's long eyelashes were deeply closed as he slept soundlessly on a bed too big to be his own.

The man's smile suddenly grew wider as he felt a slight change coming the raven haired boy. Harry Potter was finally awake.