November 1991

Harry Potter, the Dark Lord considered with a wry smirk, His parents would be rolling in their graves to know he was consorting with the enemy. He tossed the boy's dossier he had in hand back onto his desk, and it landed on top of the book he had for referencing. He had quickly found the answer to the questions plaguing him since he met the boy. It would appear that he had a compatible magical core with the son of two of the Order's most powerful assets. As his thoughts drifted back to Dumbledore's Order, he recalled the snippet of the prophecy Severus had brought him more than ten years ago.

'Born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…' He hummed slightly as he mused over those words. Harry Potter— born on July 31st 1980, mere months after Severus reported the prophecy's existence to him.

His first instinct had been to kill Severus for bringing him such a pointless piece of information. But he was not a Slytherin for nothing. After his initial bout of absolute fury passed with a cathartic Crucio shot at his spy, he considered the information. The only thing he could conceivably glean from that was that whoever he shared this prophecy was, in some aspect, a male born in late July; he will see 'him' as an equal in some regard; and 'he' will have some sort of power that Lord Voldemort, as the greatest Dark Lord Wizarding Europe has ever seen, does not have.

In that moment, he had to consider if he would see to the destruction of this new adversary, or look at this as a way to increase his already immense power. If there was indeed someone out there with power he has yet to discover, he will have all the time in the world after securing his position over Wizarding Britain to find this mysterious 'he'. The knowledge that Dumbledore had not provided the memory of the prophecy to be stored in the Hall of Prophecies before his death, and Sybil Trelawney had no recollection of the prophecy she made when he looked through her mind infuriated him greatly, until he considered the possible merits.

Lord Voldemort pondered distantly about the validity of a prophecy if none among the living knew it in its entirety. If a tree fell in the forest and no one was around to hear it, does it still make a sound? He smiled in amusement, If a prophecy was made and everyone that heard it all is either dead or suffering from memory-loss, is there still a prophecy? The Dark Lord pursed his lips, tapping his fingertips on the wood of his desk. He supposed the fact that he knew a prophecy existed impels him to act upon it, and the ten years that have lapsed without incident since he learnt of its existence is nothing on a cosmic scale. The prophecy could still come to fruition, but if that excerpt was all that remained in this world, wouldn't that make it the only part of the prophecy with validity to occur? After all, the caveat of any prophecy is that it's subjects can only act upon it if they knew its existence, be it to their benefit or detriment.

Divination was a fickle branch of magic, working on a wizard's interpretation rather than intentions. Two sides of the same coin, ultimately, but it could render vastly different results. The Dark Lord suppressed a sigh of irritation. He was getting nowhere with this line of thought. He refocused on the more tangible issue of Harry Potter. The boy that held his wand's brother. When Wormtail had betrayed the Potters, he had sent Death Eaters to kill them and the normally formidable pair had been caught entirely unawares. From Evan Rosier's report, Wilkes had been attacked by Sirius Black after casting the Killing Curse on Lily Potter, but with an entire team of elite Death Eaters against him, even Sirius Black, in his tremendous rage and grief, was overpowered, and he had died taking down Wilkes. The Dark Lord supposed, in a way, he did get his revenge. The man needn't have feared for the safety of the Potter child though— he had ordered for young children to be spared and re-educated as the War drew to a close. Too much magical blood had already been spilled and what was the point of ruling over an empire of corpses?

His musing was interrupted by the arrival of an eagle owl he recognised as Lucius'. It carried a letter sealed with the customary Malfoy coat of arms enchanted against interceptions and disallowing anyone but the intended recipient to read its contents. He took the letter from the owl and it stayed perched patiently on a windowsill as he sliced the wax seal open with a letter-opener. He pulled the parchment out, tapping the letter-opener against his desk as he read the missive.

My Lord,

The diary you have entrusted with my safekeeping has been shifted to a discreet location in my study. The Manor wards have been adjusted to allow for additional protection to be placed over the book by your magic directly. I can assure you that I am the only one with the knowledge of its place in my study.

I will be most honoured to host you, at your convenience, for the warding of the diary.

Your most humble servant,

Lucius Malfoy

The Dark Lord felt a vague sense of peace and contentment rise in him as he read the letter. He had recently discovered that Dumbledore, before his death, had left clues to Alastor Moody and his happy band of sickeningly righteous felons, regarding his horcruxes. He had taken it upon himself to ensure the safety and security of all his horcruxes, and the diadem in the Room of Hidden Things had been his objective the night he met Harry Potter, moving it to a more secure location and placing enchantments on it to remedy his arrogant overlooking of protection for a vassal of his soul in his youth. He had elected to leave his old diary in Malfoy Manor, but had forced Lucius to open up a gap in the family wards for his own wards to take effect for the diary's protection.

He conjured a piece of parchment to write a quick reply to Lucius. Sealing it within a nondescript envelope, he enchanted it to ensure its privacy, and added a most unpleasant curse for any hopeful spies attempting to read his correspondence. The Malfoy owl allowed him to attach the letter to its talon before flying off to its master.

He picked up the quill again as he returned to his desk, conjuring a second piece of parchment, writing out a short note to Harry Potter under the identity of a high-ranking Death Eater. He placed it on his desk after it was sealed in an envelope, and leaned back in his seat. Their compatible magical cores certainly explained their brother wands and his reluctance to see the boy come to any harm. It was incredibly rare to find two people whose magical signatures were similar, and rarer still for someone with an unnaturally powerful magical core such as himself. The Dark Lord tilted his head as he realised that he had already, at least mentally, marked Harry Potter as his equal. If his theory was right, and the prophecy now functioned only on the snippet that continues to exist in this world, he need only find the Potter child's 'power he knows not'. And as a subject of a prophecy, he held the power of interpretation- if he chose to believe that Harry Potter was in fact the other subject of the prophecy and that his mysterious power was no danger to his position, he had nothing to concern himself with. There was nothing left of it to dispute his interpretation anyway.

He smiled as he summoned his house-elf to bring his note to an owl for delivery, finding himself strangely happy with the idea of seeing Harry Potter again. It has been too long since he has had a conversation with someone who didn't immediately fear him.

Harry walked into the Great Hall cautiously, looking for the telltale signs that Malfoy and his bullies were around for breakfast. They weren't, of course, it was much earlier than their usual waking time. He settled down at one end of the Slytherin long table, the few upper year students present paying him no mind. A few people passed by in his blank stare to the Hufflepuff end of the Great Hall, his hand moving absentmindedly to get some jam on his toast. He had a very peaceful breakfast for over half an hour, before a confident swagger, followed by two hulking gaits interrupted his pleasant morning. Harry sighed; It was time to go.

He stood up, keeping his back hunched slightly to make himself smaller, attempting to be quick but subtle. Luckily, no one seemed to notice him, or perhaps they were just ignoring him. Harry shrugged mentally, preferring this over the scrutinising and condescending gazes that trailed after him wherever he went around his own house.

A loud rustling noise filled the silence between the muted chattering and conversations in the hall. Harry almost always left when the owls came to deliver the mail, for everyone was either engrossed in their letters, or, for the muggleborn and muggle-raised, engrossed in the swarm of owls flying overhead. Sometimes, Harry would look on enviously at the gifts and sweets that his more fortunate peers received from home.

He had just barely gotten a few feet away from the Slytherin table when he felt something drop on him, tumbling over his messy hair only to fall behind him neatly. His first thought was that it was some ridiculous prank someone was trying to play on him, before he turned around and saw a letter sitting on the floor innocently, just asking to be opened. He looked around, thinking it could've been anyone else's letters that he would be intruding upon, but no one stood within distance. He glanced up to see an unassuming barn owl preparing to fly away from the little perch it made of a piece of decor nearby. Harry grabbed the letter quickly, shoving it back to the owl, and it looked at him as questioningly as an owl could.

"I- I think you got the wrong person? There's no one that would-" Harry paused, realising that what he had been about to say wasn't true— Marvolo had promised to be in contact with him!

"Is this from Marvolo?" Harry wasn't sure if owls could understand people, magical or not, but he wanted some confirmation before he opened it. It tilted its head and gave a soft hoot that could have meant anything and flew off before Harry could ask it more questions.

With the letter clutched in his hand, he glanced about, feeling rather like a lost child that found a galleon on the sidewalk. Finally, Harry gave up and carefully tore open his first personal letter. His heart thumped in his ribcage at the excitement as he slowly lifted the wax seal, being mindful not to tear off the bottom. He pulled the exquisite parchment out and unfolded it.

Harry,

I have arranged for you to stay at Riddle Manor over Yule. My house-elf will collect you from Platform 9¾.

We shall discuss the matter of mentorship then.

TMR

Harry had started the letter smiling and ended it with a grin so impossibly large, he almost wanted to cheer out loud to release the sudden burst of energy and happiness he felt. He stopped himself, and settled into a happy grin.

"Who would send you a letter, Potter?"

Just as the letter was snatched out of his grip, his calm happiness was snatched away by Malfoy and his lackeys. Harry jumped as a scream erupted next to him, piercing the muted chatter of the hall. Malfoy looked exasperatedly at Goyle as the oversized boy pointed to nothing.

"What, Goyle? Do you see your tiny brain on the floor?" Malfoy smirked at the insult he came up with and stretched out a waiting hand, "Give me the letter will you?" Whether Goyle didn't care or didn't understand, Harry wasn't sure and never found out as Headmaster Snape swept forward to interrupt the terrified stuttering.

"Do not touch that parchment, Draco. It is cursed," Snape watched the whimpering boy with disinterest. "Mr. Montague, bring Mr. Goyle here to the Hospital Wing. Tell Madam Pomfrey he has been subjected to the Nightmare Curse." He spoke to the prefect in question without looking away and watched as Goyle was shown out of the Great Hall with hundreds of pairs of eyes trailing after him. Slowly, the chatter returned, but the undertones of excitement lingered. Harry felt his heart skip a beat as he now bore the weight of the Headmaster's gaze.

"Possession of cursed items is forbidden, Mr. Potter. Follow me." Harry needn't turn around to know that it was Malfoy sniggering to Crabbe about his misfortune.

The Headmaster brought him on a long journey to his office, walking so fast he occasionally had to jog to keep up with him. They eventually reached a gargoyle and he simply glared at the stone and it sprung to life, hopping out of their way to reveal a stairway. The Headmaster practically shoved him through the door to his office and Harry stumbled in.

"Who sent you the letter?" he demanded without preamble. Harry gaped.

"I… I don't know! I didn't get to read it," he lied quickly. The Headmaster glowered and his lips curled in loathing. Harry's heart quickened as he faced the brunt of the Headmaster's unfathomable loathing.

"Ten points from Slytherin for lying." Harry gawked at the disproportionate point-loss. "

Who sent you the letter? I will not ask again, Potter." Harry remained stubbornly silent until Snape moved suddenly towards him. He flinched back and thought it best to just tell the Headmaster, if only to leave this office in one piece.

"A Death Eater! I met him a while ago! He offered to teach me," he admitted selectively. Snape must have sensed somehow he was telling the truth, because he didn't call him a liar again.

"You're just like your father, aren't you?" Harry stared at the Headmaster in shock, "Arrogant and foolish. What could a Death Eater see in a talentless troublemaker like you?" he hissed, and Harry looked at the floor, clenching his fists, and trying his best to appear nonchalant, but the words truly cut him deeply. It seems like no one appreciated his aptitude in magic any longer, all anyone saw was his disgraced parents and half-blood status. He kept silent, hoping that Snape would let him leave soon. He was going to be late for class and he had the sinking feeling that there was no way the Headmaster was going to write him any sort of excuse note for his professor.

At last, his wish was granted as the Headmaster ordered curtly, "Get out," and Harry all but threw himself out of the office and sprinted to his first class of the day. His mood sank lower as the bell tolled, signaling that he was late for his Magical Arts class and Professor Carrow was not known for being a forgiving man.

By some miracle, Professor Carrow had not arrived at the classroom when Harry raced in, settling quickly at an empty table and pulling out his necessary supplies. When Professor Carrow arrived, bringing with him his usual menacing aura.

"We will be starting on the topic of Jinxes today. Turn to page 47 of your textbooks," he ordered curtly. There was a scramble of movement as people moved to pull their textbooks out of their bags and flip to the aforementioned page. He watched them all with a disinterested gaze. When most of the class had finally settled down, he began the lecture about the distinguishing characteristics of spells under the category of jinxes.

As much as Harry loved learning all about magic, by the end of the lesson, he wanted nothing more than the holidays to arrive immediately. He couldn't wait for the Yule break in three weeks.

December 1991

The countdown to Yule manifested in the splendid decor around the Great Hall as the days crawled by. In the week leading up to the holidays, the Great Hall was decked in some of the most resplendent decorations Harry had ever laid eyes on. Yet even the year-end cheer could not relieve Harry of the worry he felt when he realised he had a little problem.

How was he supposed to tell Hermione that he would not be staying at Hogwarts over the holidays with her? He wanted to, at all cost, avoid any sort of dispute right before Yule.

Harry sighed, accepting that he would have to tell her a little lie about who he was going to spend the holidays with. He decided that he would tell her he was invited to stay at a friend's over Yule which was technically not a lie and he hoped to Merlin he would sound sincere enough that Hermione, astute as she was, would not see right through it. With that, he waited with bated breath for the day the list of students staying over the holidays was released and Hermione to come barreling down at him for an explanation as to why his name wasn't there. Harry didn't even have to wait a day before that moment came, for nearly the instant after he made up the story in his head, Hermione rushed into their corner of the library with a frantic expression.

"Harry! I just went to check the list for people staying over the holidays and your name's not there!"

Harry sucked in a deep breath; here goes nothing. "'Mione-" he began but was immediately interrupted.

"Oh, Harry did you forget to sign up? Didn't I tell you over and over again to sign up? Really, you need to be more organised! Maybe you can ask Professor Slughorn to help you now! I'm sure he wouldn't mind-"

"Hermione!" she stopped in her tirade, eyes wide at the sudden interruption, "I didn't forget, I'm just-"

"But your name isn't there! I checked four times!"

Harry smiled at her unwarranted worry, "It's fine, I got invited over to- uh... Theodore Nott's... he- um... his father would like to meet some of his... f-friends," Harry finished lamely. Hermione, however, had stopped listening after he said "invited", absolutely ecstatic on his behalf.

"Oh, that's wonderful, Harry! It'll be such a great opportunity so find out more about Wizarding culture! You'll have to write to me and tell me all about it! Why didn't you tell me earlier? I'm so happy for you!" Hermione beamed at him and Harry knew that she was not just happy for the learning opportunity, but because she thought Harry finally had a Slytherin friend. Harry almost felt bad for lying and avoiding the question, but he also didn't think Hermione would appreciate the truth too much either, "Oh, just visiting a Death Eater, Hermione, no biggie."

"I will, I promise," Harry didn't think Marvolo would mind too much.

Harry left early for Hogsmeade Station, both to get a good compartment and to avoid his house-mates coming down later. After stowing his small trunk into the storage compartment, he wandered the train, before he sat down in one of the compartments further away from the doors of the train in hopes that anyone he knew would find a convenient compartment to sit in near the doors. He leaned his head against the windows and took out a book he borrowed from the school's library to last him the train ride. Ten minutes before the train left, the doors slammed open and his head jerked up to see Malfoy enter with his procession. Just his luck.

Malfoy looked at him in surprise, before he smirked unpleasantly, "Going somewhere, Potter?" Harry glared at the intruder and ignored him, which served only to anger the blonde, who said, "This compartment is for pure-bloods only, Potter, you should get out."

"There's no such thing, Malfoy," Harry said in irritation, wondering why people loved to claim that compartments were exclusive. "Get your own compartment." Harry did not watch for Malfoy's reaction and returned to the book in hand. And for a brief five seconds, he had peace, which was rudely interrupted by the book abruptly being tugged from his hands. His shock allowed the assailant to snatch the book away from him and he followed the book's trajectory out of the compartment doors. "That's a library book, Malfoy!" he shouted at the smug boy, as he mindlessly shot out after the book. It was when he heard the door shut behind him that he realised the folly of his actions. He dove for the door handle, but it did not even budge. Malfoy must have magically locked it. In that instance, Harry was grateful for his having read ahead.

"Alohomora!" There was a flash and then the door sprang open with a force, hitting Crabbe in the face. The overgrown boy fell backwards with a loud groan and hit the carriage floor with a resounding thud, clutching his nose.

"What's going on here?" One of the Slytherin prefects patrolling the train had heard the commotion. Malfoy was quick to respond.

"Potter assaulted him! Look at his nose!" Crabbe released his nose from his tender clutch and there was a small trickle of blood around his nose, which Harry balked at the implication that he had indeed attacked Crabbe with no warrant. The senior prefect tutted at the bloodied nose and muttered a quick spell to fix it, and then rounded on Harry.

"I won't dock any house points seeing as it won't do Slytherin any good, but you will be serving detention after the holidays, got it, Potter?" Harry bristled at the unjustified punishment but nodded quickly. The prefect seemed satisfied, and left without another word. Harry departed as well in the opposite direction, the book clutched close to him, and he could feel Malfoy's smirk trailing his movement even after he heard the compartment door slam. He found an empty carriage mere moments later and sighed in frustration. Of course the train wasn't full, this was just another opportunity to make his life difficult.

When the train arrived at Platform 9¾, Harry hastened to disembark, and wandered aimlessly around the station. How was he supposed to know what Marvolo's house-elf looked like? It could be any of the number of house-elves running around the platform, moving luggage and helping their families. Harry wondered what would happen if he couldn't find the elf. Would he just wait here and hope someone came to his rescue? Maybe Marvolo would get worried and come get him himself? In the midst of his panic, a 'pop' of Apparition sounded behind him.

"Is you being Harry Potter?" asked a squeaky feminine voice. Harry turned around, and found a house-elf with neat green clothes and bulging bright green eyes. It's floppy ears were short and it had a faded scar on its left cheek. Harry nodded to answer her question.

"D-did Marvolo send you?"

The elf nodded her head, and her ears flopped slightly at the harsh motion. "I be Mipsy, Harry Potter Sir," she introduced herself, "Master sent Mipsy to bring Harry Potter to Master's Littler Home." Mipsy held out a skeletal hand for Harry, and he grabbed it carefully, allowing the elf to Apparate them to Marvolo's 'Littler Home'. The Death Eater must have another, bigger home then, Harry reasoned. Mipsy snapped her fingers and they disappeared from the station with a burst of magic.

When Harry felt the dizzy feeling of Side-Along Apparition subside, he opened his eyes to reorient himself, finding himself in a receiving foyer of what must have been quite a large house. If this manor is Marvolo's 'Littler House', how big is his 'Bigger House'? Harry wondered in amazement. Mipsy had disappeared once again after setting his trunk down next to him, leaving Harry to look around the rather intimidating room. He started slightly when the elf popped back into existence in front of him.

"Master be expecting Harry Potter in Master's study! Mipsy will bring Harry Potter there," she declared. Harry trailed after the elf as it walked through the halls of the manor with determination. It was indeed a big place, and Harry was led deep into the house where Marvolo supposedly was waiting for him. Mipsy pushed open an opulent door and an office came into view. The room was decorated in a sea-foam green accented by black furniture, and a desk set in the middle of the room. A huge shelf filled with books covered the furthest wall from the door, and sitting off to the side of the magnificent bookshelf was Marvolo.

Harry took the opportunity to get a better look at his new mentor. He had a pair of very light blue eyes and sharp features. "Hello, Harry," Marvolo greeted, sounding vaguely amused. Harry offered him a shy smile, returning his greeting. Marvolo summoned Mipsy to bring some light refreshments for them while they spoke.

"Now," Marvolo stated as he settled his cup of tea back onto the table. "We will not have any sort of fixed schedule or," Marvolo waved his hand dismissively, "curriculum." Harry nodded, paying rapt attention to the Death Eater in front of him. "Instead, I will teach you anything I deem useful or meaningful, whenever I see fit."

"Okay," Harry agreed easily. He was already immensely grateful to have someone like Marvolo take a personal interest in his education, the Death Eater's terms did not deter him at all. Marvolo leveled him a contemplative look.

"Good," he said simply, and Harry grinned widely, his woes in Hogwarts evaporating from his mind quickly. He now had the opportunity to learn magic beyond the standard requirement and he could not contain his excitement.

here's another chapter! once again, thanks for reading and I would absolutely love to know your thoughts. tried a little something different with the dark lord's contemplation at the beginning of the chapter.

I have chapter 5 mostly ready to go and I have begun work on chapter 6, but there is a slight chance that there will be some delays in getting them out because I would like to write a little more before I publish anything. chapter 5 will be out, at the very latest, 24/7/20. I hold myself to the promises I make