Synopsis: AU. In a world where Sybil Trelawney is never born, the prophecy remains, but goes unheard. How different will Harry Potter's life be growing up in a world where Voldemort won? How long until a brilliant young man is noticed by the ever more brilliant Dark Lord?
Pairing: Harry Potter and Voldemort, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Grainger, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott and Luna Lovegood.

Authors
Note:

Hello everyone. Here is Chapter Two for you. Don't worry, they'll be at Hogwarts before you know it.
Reviews are welcome :)

AN (April 2017): Editing on this chapter is now complete.


Chapter Two

August 30th 1991

In the middle of the Yorkshire countryside, in a minor castle full of magical children, Harry Potter lay awake late into the night. In one of the many small dormitories, he was sprawled atop of the covers, deep in pensive thought. The three other boys that shared the dormitory were sleeping soundly, and their deep, rhythmic breathing was almost meditative for Harry. He'd become accustomed to the sound after so many years.
Harry sat up, staring at the boys searchingly through the dimness of the room. He could see that their faces were placid, appearing without a concern in the world, which was to be expected. One of the boys, Ricardo, had already been attending Hogwarts for a year and therefore felt nothing but excitement at the prospect of returning. The other two would not be attending for another year, being several months younger than Harry, and so need not phase themselves with the thought as of yet. He sighed.

Rising from the bed, he walked over to the window, and perched himself on the wide window ledge. In the time he had lived in this dormitory, he must have found himself awake and peering up at the moon from this position a thousand times. He leaned his head against the cool glass and contented himself with picking out the constellations from the clear night sky above; he'd always had a great memory, and a couple of years ago, he'd made a hobby of learning the names of the stars and galaxies. His favorite was quite predictably Ursa Major, being the constellation he could find even on the dim or cloudy nights.

A slight creaking of old hinges snapped Harry out of his reverie, and he was unsurprised to see the pajama clad figure of an eleven-year-old girl in the doorway, a bashful look on her face. He offered her a warm smile, and gestured for her to come over; she tiptoed across the wooden floorboards carefully, despite the fact that his roommates were notoriously deep sleepers.
Without a word, the girl clambered up onto the windowsill and into the waiting arms of one of her best friends. She leaned against him, joining him in staring up at the night sky.

"Do you think we'll like it there, Harry?" she whispered after a long moment.

Harry drew her closer. "I don't know, 'Mione. I hope so, though. We'll finally be able to use magic properly."
Hermione nodded to herself, quite comfortable against his chest. Over the years, Harry and Hermione had become as close as siblings, and she was amongst the few he could be completely himself around. She knew every worry and insecurity he had, and didn't judge him for it. Hermione wasn't the kind of friend he'd want to pull a prank on, or play quidditch with, but the kind he wanted when he was unsure of himself and needed someone who knew him so completely.

"I finally read 'Hogwarts: A History', by the way." Harry muttered sleepily against her bushy hair.

"You did?" she whispered back, enthusiastically. "What did you think to the chapter about the forbidden forest?"

"It was pretty cool. I can't wait to ex-" he paused. "It was interesting."

Hermione sat up and peered at him, giving him a motherly expression of displeasure. "Harry James Potter, if you get yourself into trouble at Hogwarts, I will personally hex you!" Harry smirked back at her, and she smiled indulgently, until a look of worry clouded her expression. "Are you afraid of Him, Harry?" she whispered even lower than before.

"Of who?" he asked, nonplussed. A Heartbeat later. "Oh. Do you mean the Dark Lord?" she nodded mutely, and he considered his answer. "I haven't given it much thought. I mean he's not at the school all that often, is he? He's got better things to do than bother with some first years anyways. I mean, I know he wasn't keen on our kind." he trailed off. This was a point he and Hermione had argued over many times in the past. "But we aren't like them. I doubt he'll affect us much."
she nodded, willing to accept this answer for now.

Ten minutes passed much like that, with them contentedly looking up at the night sky and occasionally talking in low voices about what they knew about Hogwarts; what they were looking forward to, and what they were nervous about. This probably would have - and had in the past - gone on for many hours, if not for what Harry spotted in the gardens below.

"Hermione, do you see that?" he asked, suddenly shifting to peer down. Hermione repositioned herself so she too could look down into the gloom.

"It's a grown up. Maybe just one of the staff?" she responded, neutrally

Harry shook his head. "Whomever it is, they're wearing a long cloak and covering their face. Doesn't that seem suspicious to you?"

Hermione nodded, a vaguely worried look on her face.
"Oh look!" she exclaimed, albeit quietly. "There is another two of them. What on earth?"

"What if they're up to something?" Harry whispered back urgently. "Or they're vampires? Or muggles?!"

"Muggles? What would muggles be doing here? Don't be silly, Harry."

Harry and Hermione didn't especially know much about muggles, apart from that they hated magic, and that's why many of them had been removed from their care shortly after birth. They'd always seemed like fairytale villains to the children of Malfoy orphanage, and that was exactly how the ministry liked it.

"We have to stop them!" Harry announced. The pondering of a boy too clever for his own good was quickly replaced by the wild actions of any brazen eleven year old.

"Stop them?!" Hermione looked aghast. "Are you kidding? We've had our wands a week! We're not even supposed to use them!"

"We're allowed to use them in the event of an emergency! Come on, Mione!" and without another word, he leaped from the windowsill, grabbed his wand, and fled the room. Sighing, Hermione had little choice but to follow him.


Voldemort looked up at the pristine white orphanage studiously, taking a steadying breath and closing his eyes momentarily. It wasn't often that he came here, and when he did, it was only out of necessity. He'd never been particularly fond of orphanages, even ones that he'd personally insured were kept to his rigorous standards. He might be a cruel bastard, but he wouldn't subject any magical child to the upbringing he'd had in muggle London; especially, he suddenly thought, when it might produce another Dark Lord to be his rival. He found himself involuntarily smiling at the thought of having a protégé, but cast this aside quickly in distaste. When you are immortal, you cannot raise heirs, only competitors.
Regaining his composure, he pushed himself to concentrate and become wholly aware of his surroundings. Tonight, he was there to strengthen the wards surrounding the orphanage. Small pockets of resistance were beginning to emerge in isolated areas of Europe, and he could not have them using the children here to aid their regime.

At his back were Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy. He'd brought Lucius along because he was the patron of the orphanage, and thus had to make an appearance every now and then. He'd be staying at the orphanage for two days, until the children that were old enough to attend Hogwarts left via port key. Bellatrix, he had brought purely because reconstructing wards required him to somewhat take his guard down, and she was the closest thing the Dark Lord had to someone he could trust. Indeed, he had even made her Head Mistress of Hogwarts; despite her madness, she was a clever and powerful witch, and a loyal sycophant.

When he next opened his eyes, he saw the blue pulsating sphere that was the magic of the orphanage wards. With a brief smile of satisfaction, he laid a hand upon the dome and let magic flow from his magical core to the tight knot at the centre of the wards. There were none better than the Dark Lord at this kind of magic, and their secrets made his wards almost impenetrable.
It took him a few minutes to finish his work, and he completed it with an elaborate flourish of his right hand. Only his eyes could see the way the glowing knot tightened, and another layer of skin-like magic enveloped the previous layers. The wards briefly glowed, and then became invisible once again.

"Lucius." He said, his voice low and authoritative.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Bring me the port keys," he commanded.

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius bowed, presenting several shining pebbles of quartz to the Dark Lord, who would need to add the coordinates of Hogwarts to them before they could be used. He began to draw his wand, when he was distracted.

"Halt!" came a small voice from the gloom of the garden.

"Harry, wait for me!" came another, higher voice.

Lucius drew his wand, while Bellatrix grinned at the prospect of a fight. The Dark Lord merely looked bemused, and cast a bright lumos maxima into the garden, which revealed the startled figures of two children. Bellatrix cackled, amused, while Lucius was quick to tuck his wand away in embarrassment.
The boy child was quick to regain his composure, and approached the three, while the girl hung behind him with a nervous expression on her face. They both appeared to be dressed in their nightclothes.

"What are you doing here?" demanded the boy, glowering at them.

"Aww, we're here to eat you, itty baby boy!" Bellatrix responded with glee, always enjoying it when the unexpected happened.

"I told you they were bad news!" exclaimed Harry to the girl, who was trying, in vain, to pull the boy back. "Are you muggles?" the boy demanded, raising the wand which, by the looks of it, he did not yet know how to use.

A look of outrage was quick to come upon Bellatrix's face, but Voldemort held a hand up to silence her as he chuckled.
"And what if we are, boy? What do you plan to do about it?"

This seemed to stump the boy for a moment, before he quickly found an answer. "I will report you to the ministry of magic!"

This brought a delighted smile back to the face of Bellatrix, and even Lucius allowed a smirk.

"Who is to say, we won't slaughter you before you can leave the garden?" continued the Dark Lord, almost amused by the antics of the children.

"I wouldn't if I were you…" began the boy, a look of concern crossing his features, as he pushed the girl behind him.

"And why not?" hissed the Dark Lord, enjoying himself. Curious as to what the child would answer. He wasn't often in the presence of the children of his regime, and when he was they were always terrified.

"Because if you do…" the boy looked like he was thinking very quickly, through his worry, until an idea clearly struck him. "If you hurt me, or any other magical child, then the Dark Lord will make you pay! He's the most powerful person in the whole world, and knows lots of magic, and he hates muggles, and if you hurt us then he'll avenge us!"

This answer seemed to stun even Bellatrix, not expecting such a powerful statement of faith in him, whom they clearly did not even recognise. It was occasionally difficult to remember that these children had been raised in their ways and customs - to respect the dark arts and Voldemort - especially when one could so often see the resemblance the children had to their light families, or knew that they had once been loved by their muggle parents.
After a moment, Bellatrix sauntered up to the boy, and ruffled his hair affectionately; the ever-present madness in her eyes mixed with her own brand of warmth. She pulled her wand out when the boy began to look outraged, and both the children sagged with relief.

"Thank Morgana," muttered the little girl.

"We thought you were muggles, trying to break in and kill us," the boy said, flashing a dazzling smile. The child looked very different when he wasn't trying and failing to look threatening.

Lucius nodded sagely at the boy. "Your actions show the right mindset, but your actions were brash and uncouth. In future, you should not challenge an opponent you cannot take on."

Bellatrix pouted at Lucius. "Don't be such a bore! That was the most fun I've had all day!" she cackled

Voldemort found himself smiling, despite himself, and Lucius ceased his scolding at that. He couldn't shake the amusement that he'd just been threatened - with the wrath of himself - by a couple of school children. Feeling uncharacteristically light hearted, the Dark Lord swept across the garden and into the doors of the orphanage.

"Come along," he called to his servants and the children.


Harry was relieved by the unexpected turn of events. When actually faced with the threat of three possibly homicidal muggles, he had found himself quite helpless. Of course he had been prepared to do everything he could to defend his friends at the orphanage, but without any knowledge of magic, he was little more help in that situation than a muggle would've been. He shivered at the thought, and found himself even more eager to get to Hogwarts and learn magic.

He now found himself back inside the warmth of the house, following the mysterious wizards and witch that had been in the garden. Now he'd had time to calm down, he felt a little knot of dread reappearing, of a far more childlike kind. He just hoped they wouldn't tell the staff here what he'd done. Hermione would never forgive him if he got her into trouble again.
They didn't say a word as the in-charge seeming wizard lead them into the kitchens, and gestured for them to sit down at the table. The wild haired woman sat to Harry's left, and the long-haired man sat at the other side of the table, nearest Hermione. The leader sat central, and wandlessly conjured drinks to the table. A house elf also appeared, a moment later.

"Tinky, bring snacks. Preferably something sweet." ordered the long-haired man to the elf, that disappeared and reappeared moments later, adorning the table with cookies and cakes. Harry and Hermione contained their surprise, wondering how on earth the night had ended up like this.

"So," began the woman, her eyes gleaming in the candlelight of the kitchen. "What are your names?" she glanced at Hermione first, arching an eyebrow.

"Hermione Granger," she nodded at the older witch, who sniffed.

"A mudblood then?" asked Bellatrix derisively, eyeing the girl.

"Yes, unfortunately," said Hermione, un-bothered by the commonplace accusation. Hermione was well aware of the prejudice against her kind, and even agreed with some of it. At one point, mudbloods had brought danger to the Wizarding world with their muggle ways. "But I don't remember my parents, or care to. I'm as much a witch as any."

This was surprisingly confident for Hermione, who tended to be nervous in new company. Bellatrix looked thoughtful for a moment, before nodding. "Bellatrix Lestrange."

Harry looked quickly to Hermione, eyes wide as they registered this new revelation. Bellatrix Lestrange was, as he had recently found in his reading, the Head Mistress of Hogwarts. There was a brief, tense silence as even the wizards that had been conversing in low voices across the table paused to look over at them. The dark haired mans eyes shined with mirth. Harry was the first to break the silence.

"We are so dead," he muttered to himself, to which Bellatrix laughed.

Hermione looked ready to kill him at that, and words came tumbling from her.
"We are very sorry, Professor Lestrange." Hermione wrung her hands. "If we had known…" she trailed off, biting her lip.

Bellatrix waved this aside, good naturedly. "Don't worry yourself, kittens. I like a bit of fire in my students, provides me with entertainment when they're trying to make me fill out paperwork." She stuck out her tongue, causing him and Hermione to laugh.

Harry tentatively took a cookie, while Hermione began to converse with Bellatrix. The headmistress seemed to have taken a shine to the girl, as Hermione questioned her on every aspect of her career; she'd always admired the woman for her prodigious skill in everything from the battle field to school examinations. The two wizards continued to talk amongst themselves in low voices, and Harry filled himself up on the sweets they were rarely allowed here.

When the conversation between Bellatrix and Hermione finally turned towards dueling, Harry perked up.
"Is it true that you're the second best dueler in the world?" Harry asked, excitedly. He'd seen the Hogwarts curriculum, and couldn't wait to begin learning Dark Arts and Light Arts, the two sides of combative magic. Bellatrix, who seemed to enjoy this attention, beamed.

"Yes, if I do say so myself. Second only to our Lord himself, in fact."

"What's he like in a duel? The Dark Lord, I mean?"

Bellatrix gave Harry an indulgent look, and glanced at the men across the table. "Incredible," she said, smiling. "He weaves magic with such ease, you'd believe him to be a God. You might be given the honour of seeing him duel one day, in fact. Every few years he makes an appearance at the World Dueling Competition, gracing the winners with a bout with him. They always lose of course, but it's an honour to try."

Harry nodded, eyes gleaming with excitement. "I'll enter that competition, one day. I might even beat him."

Bellatrix opened her mouth, no doubt to scold him for such a blunt challenge, despite it's harmlessness in such a young child. She was interrupted. "Will you, indeed?" said the dark haired man, flashing a wry smile. "Then I'll look forward to your challenge, little boy."

Harry and Hermione looked at the man, confused for a moment, before a dreaded realization hit them.
"Oh, Salazar," said Hermione, awe struck and afraid. She bowed her head. Harry blinked several times before doing the same thing. The Dark Lord rolled his eyes in response to this, not needing the subservience of a couple of children.

"You may look at me," he ordered, and Harry raised his head to stare into the eyes of the man who owned Wizarding Europe. It was like being in a dream, or a nightmare. He had never imagined he would meet anyone as important as the Dark Lord outside of his wildest fantasies. Voldemort rose then, handing a handful of pebbles to the blonde man and gesturing for Bellatrix to rise.

"Come Bella, we must go." He turned his eyes towards the boy. "I shall watch out for you, boy. See that you keep to your word and become a fine dueller; we need more of them amongst my Death Eaters."

Harry had no words for this. To become a Death Eater was the highest prestige there was; it meant wealth, power and land. It meant that you were magically able, and your blood could never be called into question again. He swallowed heavily and nodded.
"I will try my hardest to impress you, my Lord."

Voldemort turned to leave the kitchen. Bellatrix offered them a wave and a wolfish smile. Just as they reached the door, Voldemort paused for a moment. "What is your name, boy?"

"Harry Potter, my Lord."

With that, the Dark Lord nodded - the slightest hint of recognition in his eyes - and swept out of the room.


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