I'm not sure what's going to happen to this story. I'm sort of sick of my other two, so this one is just a distraction. I doubt people will read it anyway so it doesn't really matter…just be warned, I may not continue it!

Honestly, how stupid would you have to be to think I owned Harry Potter!

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It was true that Harry James Potter died that died. He died, and Alexander Marvelo Riddle was born.

(A/N OMG how cheesy, I think I'm going to die of embarrassment!)

Lying peacefully on the stone floor was a small boy. He looked around three years old, with shoulder length black hair with red streaks in it.

Voldemort frowned; the spell should have made him into a five year old. He performed a simple age spell. A green glowing number 5 appeared over the boy's chest.

Voldemort frowned some more; the boy had always been small, but really! This was just ridiculous! He swept down and gently picked up the boy. He was far too light as well. Concerned Voldemort retreated to his private chambers.

The Manor in which he lived in also served as the headquarters for all-important national affairs.

So it was out of the question to just place personal rooms spread out around the Mansion, anyone could wander into them. Instead, Voldemort had heavily warded (even more so then the rest of the Manor) quarters. Only a select few were ever permitted entrance, and even then only on incredibly important occasions.

Alex's rooms would be in his private quarters. Far enough away from his to give his son some privacy but close enough so he could get their fast if needed.

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As it happened, today was one of incredibly important occasions on which the select few were allowed into Voldemorts quarters.

He entered to find them waiting, all of the inner circle. Bella, Crabbe, Goyle, Severus and Malfoy. They were the survivors of the inner circle. He had lost many, but unlike Dumbledore (the old fool) had not wasted time grieving. He had honoured their memories by acting.

All eyes in the room were (for once) not on him, but on the tiny boy nestled in his arms.

Malfoy's eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

"My Lord, the de-aging spell. Did it…"

Bella spoke up "there is no way that is a five year old!"

Voldemort grimaced.

"He's five alright, I did the test myself. He's malnourished, as light as a feather to carry. Damn muggles. Pity their dead! Means I can't torture them!"

Severus was looking at the boy oddly.

"What is it, old friend?"

"He looks so small and so vulnerable. Potter never…he was always on guard, never peaceful."

The Dark Lord, most feared creature in all of Europe, looked down at the child in his arms and smiled.

"Yes Severus, so peaceful…" he broke of and stared down agian at the boy, his son.

"And he's going to stay like that. Dumbledore destroyed Harry, ruined his childhood and used him as a tool!

But he's my son now, and I will not let him be hurt!"

Voldemort looked up at the inner circle, his gaze fierce.

"Understand…"

They nodded, and he knew that with these 6 Alex would be safe. Because they were family.

They had been Voldemort's family when he was young, and now they would be Alex's family. They would protect him, and love him and sometimes probably annoy the hell out of him.

"Crabbe, Goyle take a look at him. I don't know whether the wounds from the war transferred."

Despite their oafish appearance Crabbe and Goyle were actually brillant healers. They followed as Voldemort carried Alex into his new bedroom and placed him gently on the bed.

Crabbe waved his wand and Alex's clothes (excepting his boxers) disappeared. Voldemort hissed in anger, the child's body was littered with bruises and cuts, you could see his ribs poking out!

"He's always like this." Came Severus's voice behind him.

"Was always like this. Never again!"

Much to Severus's and Lucious's amusement (and the healers annoyance) Voldemort hovered over Crabbe and Goyle as they tended to Alex.

Eventually they both breathed identical sighs of exhaustion and stepped back.

"There, he's stabalised."

"Amazing the kid managed to keep going at all."

"Medically speaking, he should have collapsed long ago..."

'body was in the last stages of exhaustion…"

"had lost far to much blood to stay conscious…"

"let alone talk. And should have been unconscious anyway…"

"from the pain! But he should sleep now…"

"for about a week. After that give him the potion…"

'once a day. And tell him…"

"that the taste is entirely Sev's fault!"

Voldemort shuddered; he hated it when they did that. He suspected it was a side effect of working together so seamlessly in surgery, but it was still disturbing!"

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Alex opened his eyes blearily; the last thing he remembered was praying to get back home soon, because otherwise his father would go mad.

He tried to sit up, but quickly aborted the attempt as pain shot through him. Within seconds the door shot open and The Dark Lord Voldemort rushed in.

"Alex, your awake! Oh Thank Merlin, we've been so worried about you."

Alex smiled up at him. Before a sudden urge to go back to sleep pounced on him.

He loved the way his dad got worried about him. Draco said it was because he had an Insecurity Disorder, but Alex had always felt that being loved was new for some reason. And no matter how often his father showed he loved him, it still made him melt.

Which could be very annoying when father was trying to make him do something he didn't want to.

He came back from his metal wonderings in time to hear.

"...and then Severus found you, I almost had a heart attack. How did you escape your kidnappers."

Ah yes! Alex remembered now, he had been kidnapped. He didn't know who by, they had worn masks and never talked around him. But they har hurt him,

Voldemort had stopped ranting about how worried they had all been, and was looking at him in concern.

"Alex…"

Alex felt tears start to stream down his face, he had missed his dad so much.

"I t thought. I thought I'd never see you again"

Voldemort leaned forward and engulfed his son in a hug. Of course the kidnapping story was completely made up.

He had been reading in his study when he felt an alarm go off. One that meant Alex was in pain. He had flew out of his chair and into the room. The story was a lie, but the emotions he was pouring into his words were real. He really did want to protect Alex with everything.

And as he hugged him, he felt like everything in his world depended on this small child.

This is ridiculous! The first conversation I have with the boy and I already love him.

He looked down at the smooth black and red hair, and shrugged. Better I become all soppy over him then some worthless nobody. Apart from my inner circle he's the only being I love! It's not like I'm going to start handing out lemon drops!

Alex, safely wrapped in his father's arms suddenly felt and terrible pain in his chest.

"Father, Ahhh, Oh Merlin, it hurts. Father make it stop!" He couldn't breathe!

Voldemort was looking at him frantically "What's wrong Alex! What hurts!"

Alex's hands were clutching his chest and his breathe was coming in short painful gasps.

Voldemort raised his wand and desperately summoned Crabbe and Goyle.

They arrived breathlessly, saw the problem and began casting spells. Murmering soothing words to both Alex and Voldemort.

At last Alex's breathing returned to normal. He looked up at the three adults and smiled sleepily, as the draught he had just consumed began to take affect.

"Love you father, Uncle Crabbe, Uncle Goyle…"

The three men stared at the small child, long after he had dropped off.

Form behind them came three identical snorts.

"Uncle Crabbe and Uncle Goyle!"

"Dear Merlin, what does that make us!"

Voldemort turned around smiling dreamily.

"He said he loved me."