When Harry woke, he remembered his dream. It was strange - his mother and father were talking, but then something purple had began to choke him. Charlie was laughing, his mother was laughing... His father was looking at him in disgust. "You should have never been born, you freak." The Charlie was crying and screaming with red eyes staring from a distance, lovingly... And then he just woke up. No dramatic start up, panting... His eyes just opened.

He sat up, pushed his covers down, changed, brushed his teeth and hair and he was still uncomfortably numb from his dream. He packed his bag and swung it over his shoulder. It was his first day of lessons today and so began his spiral into bookworm; he leapt up the stairs to the Slytherin common room and checked the time. Seven o'clock in the morning; this left him enough time to search the bookshelves to no avail. No books he wanted. Quite a few were, amusingly, about the Dark Lord and Pureblood politics, but there were none on Necromancy. Was it really so obscure?

Charlie yawned widely and gave Harry a small hug. "G'morning, Harry..."

"Good morning, Charlie." Harry laughed before taking a seat on the sofas.

"Did you see him?"

"Did you see the scar?"

"What does he look like?"

Whispers followed Harry from the moment he left the Slytherin dormitory to the Great Hall. It made him feel itchy. "Potters, here are your timetables." Snape gave the two boys the sheets of parchment and Harry quickly took out his pot of red ink and quill to compare lessons with Hermione.

First, he had Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. Then, he had double Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Quirrell. Then, he had double Potions with Professor Snape, after lunch. Then it was all free.

"I'm already dreading it," Charlie confessed in hushed whispers. "Do you keep getting whispered about? I keep hearing whispers about me; I can't handle it! How do you handle it?"

"Yes, ignore them and plot their demise in your head."

Charlie nodded knowledgeably, like Harry had just given him the meaning of life. "Of course, of course..."

"We better hurry to Transfiguration," Harry smiled happily at him. "What floor is it on?"

Charlie shrugged and the pair shot out the Great Hall, passing a confused Draco and Blaise. "I wonder what we'll be learning?"

"I think we'll be learning how to change a goblet into a rat!" Harry began and Charlie burst into giggles.

"I think we'll be learning how to change a strand of hair into underwear," Charlie added, winking.

"I think I'll turn you into a dog." Harry told him bluntly. "A cute little Jack Russell, fat with short legs."

Charlie laughed loudly. "I think I'll turn you into a Ragdoll cat, so that when you go limp in my arms I can tickle you to death."

They reached the Transfiguration room with ten minutes to spare, so Harry took out a book on the subject. He didn't want to be caught unaware, especially if the woman started to fire questions at them.

Professor McGonagall hadn't fired questions at them; instead, she gave them the basic overview of Transfiguration before asking them (asking! Harry mused, astonished) politely to transfigure a matchstick into a needle.

This, he quickly realised, was a test. Had they listened to what she said? Yes, miss. He waved his wand slowly, willing the matchstick to change.

The matchstick refused to change.

Harry continued and he exclaimed in joy as it finally changed. Transfiguration was changing something into something else and it didn't mean casting an illusion. It meant encouraging the thing to change, right down to the atoms. A hard concept, but Charlie appeared to understand it, too.

Charlie gave Harry a jaw-splitting grin when his needle was grudgingly given five points, and he smiled wider when he received another five. "We're awesome," he mouthed and Harry nodded back.

"As expected, sons of James Potter." McGonagall gave them a small, private smile. "He was excellent at Transfiguration in his youth, as well."

"Was he?" Harry asked politely. "He never speaks of his time at Hogwarts, really, mostly just the Marauder days."

Charlie nodded along with Harry's statement, because his brother always seemed to sound sarcastic or degrading when he spoke. "Mostly about his and Sirius' adventures; he never really mentions Remus, he gets quite upset with himself..."

McGonagall's beady eyes widened slightly before the expression was wiped from her face. "Would you..." She licked her suddenly dry lips; why did she feel so odd about inviting these two boys to her quarters? It was probably because she refused to contact James after Lily died... "I could tell you stories about James and Lily, if you want..." she trailed off, snapping out harshly, "Ron Weasley! Focus!" she lowered her voice again, addressing these two Slytherins'. "Would you like to talk, over tea and biscuits?"

"That'd be wonderful, ma'am. Dad never talks about mum," Charlie confessed, shrugging his shoulders. "Thank you for the invitation."

Her heart swelled a little for these two sad little boys and she nodded, moving on. Her throat had constricted and she struggled to swallow the lump - if only Lily was here!

Professor Quirrell was a very good teacher; he was confident, smart and everything a teacher should be. Harry just couldn't take the turban seriously, or the overwhelming scent of garlic that filled the room and made him a little woozy. His scar, after the first episode, had reacted when the man stared him straight in the face, but as far as being in the same room as him? It pulsed lightly, almost soothingly.

"Today, as your first lesson, we shall be doing practical work. From then on, we will do theoretical work as well as practical. While it isn't wise to let young witches and wizards do spells without proper training..." He winked at the class with a large smirk on his face. "I don't suppose it will hurt."

"The first spell we are learning is Expelliarmus and you will be quizzed on this spell the next lesson you have me. Spells are not things you learn once and memorise - they need to be revised and revised until it is instinct, you live and breathe the spell."

Harry removed his Yew wand and placed it onto the table, the white washed wood carefully polished and pristine. It was a very intricate design on the wood - the handle was melded to Harry's hands (which he found odd, but Mr. Ollivander did say the wand chose the wizard) with a flat bottom. It had a small blossom carved into the wood that his mum paled at when she saw it. The rest of the wood was straight and narrow, with a swirled design that ran down the length until it reached the tip. Harry likened it to a flower, with strong roots that protected the blossom.

"Ah, our Mr. Potter has the right idea!" Professor Quirrell gave the boy an appraising look. "Would you like to watch and see the spell, then practice it on me?"

Harry flushed a bright shade of crimson and shook his head, no. What if he made a fool out of himself? Admittedly, he had done this spell before and had it down to a T, but what if it didn't work?

"Don't be like that, boy, come up here!" Professor Quirrell smiled warmly and Harry felt his feet obey, neatly picking up his wand and holding the tip to floor. "Now, watch me - I'm going to disarm you first, all right?" Harry nodded and watched the Professor's hand carefully, standing seven foot away.

The man murmured, "Expelliarmus!" before jet of red light left his wand. Harry held onto his wand as tightly as he could, but it flung out of his hands and into Quirrell's.

"Is there any way to stop your wand from leaving your hand?" Harry asked curiously; it was truly something that had plagued him for a long time. He hoped there was.

Quirrell frowned at Harry's wand in his hand. It was so similar to his own wand, but the core - the core showed it wasn't his. Lost in his musing, he nearly missed the question but his head snapped up. "I think... I think you have to be strong with your wand." he admitted - Voldemort didn't know. "You have to be magically strong to resist it, you have to be expecting it..."

Harry pursed his lips - he would find a way to stop his wand from leaving his hand. His wand was his and his alone. Quirrell held out Harry's wand and Harry took it gratefully, before turning on his foot. "Do you remember how I moved my hand, Harry?" Quirrell coaxed and Harry nodded firmly.

"Expelliarmus!" he whispered furiously, twisting and turning his wand before shooting a bolt of red light at Quirrell's wand. He willed it to shoot into his own hand and found no resistance - the short wand flung into his grip and Harry grinned victoriously, proudly.

"Ten points to Slytherin!" Quirrell beamed, clapping his hands together. "Never before have I seen such a strong attempt at the Disarming Charm!"

Harry beamed too, his emerald eyes brightening at the praise. "Thank you, sir!" Harry chirped, handing the man his wand back and returning to his seat.

"Alright then... I want you all to pair up and practice the spell on each other. If you need help, just ask." Quirrell sat on his desk, crossing his legs and staring out at the class. They shuffled around nervously, but the Gryffindor's seemed almost... tempted to turn it into a brawl.

"Congratulations, Harry," Lily spoke proudly. "You were brilliant."

Harry gave her a stiff smile in reply. Lily recoiled as if physically struck - what was wrong? Why was he being so dismissive of her? What had she done...?

Quirrell's eyes never left Harry. Who had he smiled at? Voldemort stirred and took over Quirrell's body fully, before his eyes saw the glowing outline of the deceased Lily Potter. His eyes snapped open and he immediately strode over to the boy. "Harry... May I have a word with you in my office?"

Harry nodded stiffly and he pushed his chair back, leaving Charlie staring after him sadly.

"How long have you seen your deceased mother for, Potter?" Voldemort asked harshly, leaning against the far wall in his office.

Harry stiffened and his emerald eyes began to water. His lip trembled and Voldemort silently cussed; this was the boy who defeated him? "Since - Since I was one, sir." Voldemort was pleased to note that no tears actually fell.

"One? Do you jest, boy? Necromancy is a hard skill to learn and for you to say that you conjured her apparition after she died, aged one is preposterous!" Did the boy really have the nerve to lie to him?

"It's true," Lily injected nervously, and Voldemort squinted coldly at her. "After I was killed... It was like I woke up and Harry was staring back at me, smiling how I'd left him."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed in thought. "I will have to do more research into this, but Harry, you will come to me for lessons on controlling this. I have no doubt the word has been spread about your abilities - soon you will have people you do not know begging you for help. You cannot help them all, boy, so don't try."

Harry's expression cleared and he nodded solemnly. "Thank you, sir."

"Also... Again, well done on the Disarming Charm," Voldemort gave the compliment off-handedly - Quirrell had been holding onto his wand with all his might, but still it was flung from his hand like a person throwing a ball. "I was trying my hardest not to give the wand to you, but you got it any way. Now, come, let's return to the lesson - I dread to think what the Gryffindor's have done in my absence."

Harry started giggling and Voldemort was struck by how beautiful the sound was. He felt disgusted in himself! Squealing over this little boys laugh... But by Merlin it was so innocent and childish. It was something he hadn't heard before. "I have no doubt that Ron Weasley has probably sent the room on fire!"

Voldemort allowed a tiny smile before launching himself off the wall. "Go on, Potter. Wait in the office while I talk to your mother." Harry agreed, walking into the man's office and wiping his eyes.

Lily's eyes widened in shock when she realised just who this was - but there was something dark swirling in the corner of the room and she was drawn to it. "Good bye, little Harry, I do so love you..."

"It isn't your time yet, Lily Potter," Voldemort spat cruelly, the only salvation for the woman disappearing. "How did you defeat me?"

Her blank eyes met his. "I used the Black family tomes and many, many hours of research to find the perfect ritual. I ripped your soul from your body the moment you killed me and anchored it to my little boy. I sacrificed myself to save my family, but in order for you to die... Harry would need to lose his piece of soul." She sounded worried and Voldemort cussed angrily inwardly. He couldn't kill this little boy, the one destined to defeat him, because he held Voldemort's soul and he needed it.

"How does he have the Necromancy skill?"

Her eyes flickered lightly. "He was born with it, but the trauma fully activated it. He wanted me and he got me."

"Is he powerful?"

Lily smiled warmly. "He's very strong, and Charlie is his reason. If anyone hurt Charlie... Harry would destroy them, no doubt. He told me so, when he was a little boy."

"His brother? What would he do if I destroyed him or harmed him at all?"

Lily's eyes flickered into full awareness. "He would kill you. At risk of his body failing on him, even if the world were destroyed... You hurt Charlie, you will die, Lord Voldemort."

Voldemort nodded and pursed his lips. "I truly thought as much. Charles is a weak little boy, spineless - he is envious of Harry and people are so inclined to push him out of the way for Harry, you know. Charlie may turn the knife on Harry himself."

Lily's green eyes lit up in rage. "He would do no such thing -! "

"Oh, but he would." Voldemort spoke in glee. "If the right pressing and prodding was administered, or if I slowly weaken that bond..." He cackled quietly. "Tell me about Harry's personality, Lily Potter."

"He's... Hateful. Vindictive." It pained her to admit it, but he was. "He has an unhealthy hate for Severus Snape and Peter Pettigrew, but it's odd... Severus has offered help and he took it. There's something wrong with him, I'm sure. Something mental."

Voldemort frowned, eyeing the crumbled form of the beautiful boy on the floor. "What do you mean?"

"He struggles to actually show emotion. Charlie pushed some of his own pain onto Harry and he seemed to bottle it away - I worry he is pressing it down and not letting anyone see his pain or anger. There's just... Never anything there. In his expressions - sure, he's smiling, but is he really happy? I don't know any more."

Voldemort hummed in thought. "You know, miss Potter... You were not meant to die that night, but you upset me. I... apologise for your death. You were a worthy opponent."

Lily gazed at him in shock but there were hints of a smile on her lips.

"Go." Voldemort sighed, walking into his office and carrying on his conversation with the boy. "I don't think he'll have set the room on fire," Voldemort mused. "Probably started a Weasley-Malfoy fued."

Harry giggled again. "Oh goodness, I hope so. Those are the best." Voldemort steered him to the classroom.

Voldemort rose an eyebrow at the sight before him. Charles Potter was flushed and grinning widely, four separate wands clutched in his hand. "And what happened here?" He hovered in the door way; no one seemed to have noticed him, yet.

"What did you do, Charlie?" Harry groaned. "I can't go anywhere with you!" Harry joined his brother and whispered into his ear, "I might go ask McGonagall to turn you into a Jack Russell after all."

Voldemort withheld the snort and gave the two boys a puzzled frown. Charles flushed brightly, but this time out of embarrassment. "Harry, mate, I think he can hear us..."

Harry gave Professor Quirrell a look before shaking his head. "If he can hear us, then I want him to know that he smells and his turban is ridiculous."

Voldemort willed himself not to react and cocked his head in 'confusion' although inwardly he was smirking. It was Quirrell who liked the turban and the garlic, Voldemort having nothing to do with it. He himself thought it was stupid.

"See, he can't hear us!" Harry gestured wildly to the wands. "What the hell?"

"Ron said something about you, so I took his wand," Charlie grinned happily at Harry's face, releasing the wands and grabbing the other boys hand, intertwining their fingers. "Then Draco mocked Ron, so I took his too," Harry snorted and so did Voldemort; his followers son, disarmed by a Potter! "Then it turned into a fight between Pansy and Seamus, so I disarmed them both."

Harry beamed in pride and Voldemort privately wondered who was stronger between the pair. Lily was certain Harry was stronger, but Charlie... Charlie had the power of emotions on his side. If he could press his emotions elsewhere, he was a strong empath.

"Just what happened here?" Voldemort hissed, watching in amusement as several faces paled. "Don't answer that, you hooligans. Just for your disobedience, I want an essay, a foot in length, about the usage of the Disarming Charm and you must include detail; this will determine if you can be redeemed from today or not. Oh and, Charles Potter - another twenty points to Slytherin for your usage of the Charm."

Charlie was positively glowing.

Professor Quirrell was, so far, his favourite teacher, Harry thought. A smile, one that Charlie had never seen before, came over his twins face and the boy panicked; it wasn't a nice smile. It was a bitter smile, his lips drawn in thin red lines.

As soon as the expression came, it left and Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. "C'mon, Harry, it's lunch time," Charlie pouted cutely. "I want some fooood!"

Harry smiled wanly and the pair left for the Great Hall. "I need to go to the library, Charlie, so I'll just have something to eat then go. Stay with Blaise."

"Why can't I come with you?" Charlie asked quietly, but his question was lost on Harry. He was hearing angry mutters in his ears and he was scared.

Harry ate a tuna sandwich and left hurriedly, the mutters in his ears becoming louder now that he was alone. He blinked back frustrated tears and found comfort in books.

There was a neatly hidden book next to the books on Languages, that nobody else seemed to see. Harry was drawn to it. He plucked it out. Salazar Slytherin, it read. Parselmagic. Harry double checked that no one was looking and slipped it into his bag, before looking around for more books.

He chose many books but he was quite confused - quite a lot of them seemed to be by Salazar Slytherin and then there was another, little black book. In printed gold writing, the book said T. M. Riddle, An Introduction To Darkness. They didn't seem to be books that the school should have, but he took them regardless.

The Moon and Sun seemed very interesting - were there any ways to harness their power? He knew muggles were close to using the Sun for their inventions, but could wizards do it too? He hoped so. The Moon was something else entirely. The Full Moon controlled the Werewolves and had a hold over the Wizarding World that nobody wanted to talk about. Language was another; it was of basic green print and there was nothing spectacular about it. It only seemed to be a hundred pages long - until Harry actually opened the book. There were thousands of lost or old languages in that little book, with detailed annotation on how to speak the language as well as learn it to memory.

Meanwhile, Voldemort was watching the boy in dark amusement. He'd placed those books to see if he could break through the shadowing spell and, yes, that sweet scent of vanilla magic washed over him. He breathed deeply before breathing out - Harry Potter had broke through them immediately. It was delicious. This little boy held more magic in his blood than Dumbledore realised and Voldemort would use this boy to his full potential. He was his born enemy, but... With the right manipulation, little Harry Potter could become his best asset.

And so the corruption of little Harry Potter began.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons and it was even colder here, even though the way to the Slytherin dorms was in this direction. It would have been weird enough, but there were pickled animals floating in jars that gave the room a creepy feel.

Snape slammed open the door to his classroom and glared at the students in annoyance. "What are you waiting for? Enter!" he barked. Harry jumped slightly and entered the room, choosing a seat close to the front on the left-hand side of the room. He pushed his square-framed glasses further up his nose so that he take everything in. "Sit." Snape ordered and Harry sat, removing his quill and inkwell from his bag, as well as a journal. He'd already wrote notes on the subject, but he wanted to flip through and alter them. Severus Snape or not, he was the youngest Potions Master the Wizarding World had ever seen and he knew his stuff.

He started the lesson by taking the register and he paused at Harry's name. "Ah, yes," he said softly, though his dark eyes showed slight remorse. "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

To Harry's relief, nobody began to laugh or snigger. There were two tell tale pricks of embarrassment on his cheeks. Snape finished the register and looked down at the class. His eyes were black, cold and empty.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making." he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. Like Professor McGonagall, he demanded respect and had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe that this is magic. I don't honestly believe that you will understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmerying fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Harry gazed at the man in slight awe. He knew what potions could do - you could look like someone else, age yourself, or even cause powerful obsession within another person to make them love you.

Silence followed his little speech and the man nodded, showing his approval. "Mr. Potter," his dark eyes met Charlie's. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Charlie flushed - he didn't know the answer. "Asphodel and wormwood create a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of the Living Death, sir." Harry smiled charmingly and Snape's lips twitched into a smirk.

"Two points to Slytherin, Harry Potter, and another two for covering for your brother. Let's try again; where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry came up blank, but Charlie began to smile. "The stomach of a goat, sir, and it will save you from most poisons."

"Another two points for Slytherin!" Snape wasn't proud of them. He was just showering Slytherin with praise, because no one else would. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"There's no difference, sir - " Harry and Charlie turned to stare at each other as they both began to speak. "Go on - " They stopped again, while the Slytherins began to laugh. "No, you say - " Draco's laugh rang loudest before he quieted, sniggering to himself. The Potter twins were funny.

"They're the same plant - " Charlie began, turning to Snape with a happy grin on his face.

"Also known as aconite." Harry finished, giggling along with Charlie.

Snape shook his head in amusement before stopping himself. "Four points to Slytherin, boys."

The Gryffindor's began to mutter to each other because that wasn't fair - "Well, why aren't you writing this down?" Snape snapped.

The rest of the double lesson consisted of Snape putting them into pairs (Harry was with Charlie, of course) and set them to mixing a simple potion to cure boils.

Their potion was perfect and Snape gave them another five points, although not many heard him.

Neville managed to do something wrong and ended up covered in boils while his potion ate away at the stone floor.

The rest of the week continued in the same tone, although Professor Flitwick seemed to adore the Potter twins. "Just like Lily," he'd mutter.

The angry mutters only increased as time went on, but Harry was learning to push past them. They were urging him to hurt someone, but he wouldn't.

Parselmagic

Parselmagic is using spells from the snake language, Parseltongue. Just like you would use Incendio(Harry noticed some of the old spells had been blacked out by a rather angry inkwell and newer, modern spells were added) you could use Incendio in the snake tongue. You would be combining the two spells and the result would be very strong - even stronger than the existing spell!

However, Parseltongue is seen as Dark magic and I have no doubt you would be ostracised, young Slytherin, for your inheritance of my gift. I do apologise for any insults hurled your way, but Parselmagic is very strong and you should not fault yourself for having this skill.

As you go on, the spells will get harder and delve more into Black Magic, as opposed to White Magic. These spells are intended to harm a person and if you are of a delicate sensibility, the images and descriptions will prove to be very morbid. I urge you to stop reading if this is the case.

Harry and Charlie spoke quietly, heads bent close to each other. Their father had sent them a letter, as well as a Daily Prophet clipping.

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31st July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown.

Gringotts' goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts Goblin this afternoon.

"On our birthday..." Charlie bit his lip harshly. "Nobody would dare steal from Gringotts, Harry!"

Harry's attention was solely focussed on his letter.

Congratulations onto getting into Slytherin, Harry. I expect you to watch Charlie and protect him at all cost. I know you and I know that you're headstrong and stubborn, but Charlie is weak to manipulation and I do not want him to go down the wrong path.

I expect you to maintain high grades.

Hello, pup. Sirius here. Ignore James, you little Slytherin ratbag, but watch Charlie. You have my permission to curse anyone who is nasty to him at all. Molly Weasley has expressed concern about you and Ronald; if you are to make threats, pup, make sure you don't let him whine to mummy over it. James was laughing in the woman's face, which you know he never does.

Prongs is concerned over the Gringotts break in. He has used his own connections and the item stolen is in Hogwarts - it is suspected that a teacher is after the item stolen. Use your mirror to find out what the object is, because I can't tell you through this. I know I am already being too revealing, so burn this letter once it has been read.

Be careful, pup.

Hello, cub. Remus here, if you couldn't already tell. I hate to repeat what has already been said, but protect Charlie. I know people will be coming after you, but they will go through Charlie to get to you. Do not dance with the Malfoy's, or flirt with the Zabini. Do not antagonise the Flint, or bully the Parkinson. I know such acts are beneath you, but... I love you both, and I do not want you hurt.

Congratulations on getting into Slytherin. I do hope Severus is treating you well, but tell us if he isn't. We will speak with him. How are you? Are you sleeping well? How are your classes?

Love, the Marauders.

xx

Would people really go through Charlie to get to him? He bit his lip in worry.

Draco was again hit by how similar the two boys were, even though they looked very different.

Charlie had tousled, mussed red hair with sparkling hazel eyes that never seemed to show emotions other than happiness. He had a straight nose, full eyebrows and lips with dark eyebrows. His eyes were almond shaped and so very expressive - he wore his emotions on his sleeve, except he didn't. He made everyone else feel his emotions, so he didn't experience them quite as severely.

From his earlier demonstration, he was also very strong with his wand and magic.

Harry had wavy, but neatly combed and slicked, black (it was very dark, darker than even Professor Snape's which was saying something) hair and pretty green eyes that were drawn and cold. He had tight reign of his emotions and he was very manipulative - he had gotten Draco's friendship, and then cast it aside like it was nothing, making the blond boy want more. He had a pert button nose, sharp cheekbones on a baby face (which didn't really make sense, but it did) and his eyes, too, were almond shaped. He was considerably smaller than Charlie but he commanded himself in such a way that he was daunting to even look at.

He, too, was very, very strong. Draco had tried the Disarming Charm on his Defence tutor and the man's wand hadn't budged, even though he managed to get his mothers wand from her hands. Harry stunk of his own magic, a vanilla scent that made Draco slightly woozy. It was impossible for a young boy to have such power at his disposal, and yet here he was. The anomaly to that rule.

The Potter twins were something akin to Yin and Yang, but what Draco didn't know is that they were both more similar than he believed. Harry would do anything for his family, but Charlie would do anything for his brother.

Father had been very pleased with his letter and had told him to stick with the two boys - Draco would, if Harry didn't make it twice as hard!

Voldemort watched little Harry Potter, impassive. He was such a strong boy and wondered if Dumbledore felt it too. The young Malfoy certainly smelt it, from the way he flinched whenever Harry cast a spell.

Little Charlie Potter was interesting, too. Disarming four people? Maybe he had excellent command over his magic? " - Rel?" Snape interrupted his musings and Voldemort sent him a scathing look.

"Yes, Severus?"

"Listen here - " Snape hissed. "You will leave the Potters alone, do I understand? I do not trust you and if so much as a hair is touched on their heads, I will make you regret your very existence."

Interesting. Voldemort gave a tight smile in response. "Over compensating for Lily, I suppose? Don't worry, Severus, I won't harm them."

Severus paled and breathed out his nose like an angry bull, but he nodded once. The greasy haired man got out of his chair and left the Great Hall like an overgrown bat stalking his prey.

Voldemort took a sip from his drink and smirked savagely; who did Severus' loyalty lie with? Dumbledore? Or himself? Or maybe... His eyes flickered to the boys again. The deceased Lily Potter?