A/N: More of Harry/Ra's past shall be revealed! Also, Michael is the Boy Who Lived. The second half of this chapter explains some of that. Thank you Thatsallwegot for noticing the rather big inconsistency about how the boys could contact Twiggy. I totally rushed the writing at end of this section so thanks for noticing it!

Chapter 3: The Truth

Severus froze in shock. Heir? Harry? What was Tom talking about? Severus could sense some magic coming from the teen, but nothing substantial and not nearly enough to be considered a full-fledged wizard.

Leaning forward, Tom took the sobbing boy into his arms, cradling him softly. Burying his face in the man's shoulder, Ra hugged himself tightly with one hand, the other clutching the front of Tom's robes. The Dark Lord looked contently down at the dark-haired boy, rocking him slowly back and forth.

Slowly, the other four boys crawled over to him, huddling around Ra. They all stared up at the soft red eyes curiously. Tom shot them a small smile and beckoned them closer. With caution, the boys all reached out to touch Ra's back with their hands. Scooting in closer, they curled in on themselves, forming a giant mass of warm bodies.

"Tom? Who is that boy?" Lucius asked slowly.

Lightly grabbing Ra's chin, Tom lifted the boy's head and planted a soft kiss to his forehead. Ra's eyes slipped closed as Tom stood, carrying the small teen in his arms. Turning to the assembled Death Eaters, his red eyes flicked to the blond Malfoy.

"You all remember why I went to the Potters' house, correct?"

All of the Death Eaters, including Severus, nodded.

"The prophecy that drove me there told me of a young child that would destroy me. Foolishly, I ran straight into the trap and, in attempting to kill the brat, ended up being destroyed myself by his power. Everyone in the world believed that Michael Potter became the Boy Who Lived," Tom said.

Severus threw a quick glance at Ra, who had his face buried back in Tom's shoulder. The thin boy shivered slightly as the mention of the Potters. Frowning, Severus stepped up behind his Lord and brushed away the dark bangs that covered the boy's forehead. A scar, deep red in color, cut down the boy's forehead: a lightning bolt.

"The truth it though that Michael Potter did not destroy me," Tom continued, sensing the surprise radiating from Severus. "It was in fact his younger brother, Harry Potter; a small, one year old baby with black hair and vibrant green eyes. Unbeknownst to everyone around him, he became the one to 'save' them all."

"And he's-"

"-Harry Potter? Yes. He bares the scar on his forehead that I remember giving him all of those years ago," Tom interrupted. "There is no doubt in my mind."

"But my Lord, why then are you comforting the child?" Bellatrix yelled. "He's a threat-"

"-No longer! He already destroyed me once, making the prophecy null and void!" Tom shouted.

Ra –or rather, Harry- shivered uncontrollably in Tom's arms. The Dark Lord petted his back in comfort as the boys at his feet reached up to touch their figurative older brother. Even Severus, one who did not normally give any sort of emotional help, ran his fingers through the boy's dark locks.

"You see, Bellatrix, the prophecy was, I believe, misunderstood. 'One cannot live while the other survives.' Harry Potter destroyed the threat: the insane Lord Voldemort in order to bring back the sane Tom Riddle."

A murmur ran through the crowd of Death Eaters.

"When I tried to kill Harry, I gave him a scar on his forehead, marking him as the heir I could never have. He is magically my equal, possibly even my superior and you will all treat him as the prince he deserves to be," Tom finished.

"Tom, I can barely feel any magic radiating from the boy at all," Severus said quietly.

"And how come we've never heard of this earlier?" Lucius added. "We've been chasing Michael Potter as if he were a serious threat."

"The only reason you were supposed to go after Michael Potter was in order to get a sample of blood from the boy. As I took his brother for my heir, it makes us related," Tom explained. "Since Harry was nowhere to be found, I had to settle for the next best thing."

In his arms, Ra had finally started to calm down. Lifting his head, he looked apologetically up at the man, who just smiled down at him. Shifting in the man's grasp, Ra tried to get down, a sudden wave of embarrassment rushing through him.

"Don't worry Harry. It's perfectly alright," Tom whispered as he set the small teen down.

It was then that Severus got a good look at just how small Ra was. He barely reached Tom's shoulder, making him no more than five six or five seven at best. Severus himself towered over the boy that quickly glanced up at him before nervously flicking his gaze to the floor.

"Harry," Tom said slowly, "Why were you not with your parents? How did you end up in… that man's care?"

Ra shivered as his eyes widened at the questions. The four other boys at their feet whimpered and whined softly, clutching each other's hands.

"Tom, I think these are questions for another time," Severus said quickly.

"Quite right. The boys need to get settled in first. They will be living here with me, after all," Tom sighed.

The whimpering from the other four only grew louder. Tom and Severus frowned down at them and Ra tugged lightly on Tom's sleeve. Retrieving the paper from Severus's hand, he wrote down what he wanted to say and handed it to the Dark Lord. As he read, Tom's expression grew darker, causing the five young boys to cringe.

"No, Harry, I am not your master, nor are any of you my slaves. You're my honored guests, all of you, and you may stay with me as long as you wish," Tom replied, handing the paper back

Ra hesitated for a moment before silently nodding. The other four boys all stood, slinking over to hide behind Ra, also nodding. Tom threw them a smile and watched as Ra flipped over the paper and scribbled a quick question on it. The small teen held up the paper so he could see.

"You're tired? Of course, you would be. We can prepare some rooms for you," the Dark Lord said.

Ra glanced back at the other boys who were all shaking their head violently. Sprite made a series of hand signals and Ra nodded in agreement. He wrote what Sprite has said on the paper.

"You all want to share a single room? Are you-"

"-Tom, I'm sure its just so they all feel safe. They're in a new place with people they don't know. They want to stick together," Severus explained.

"Ah, yes. I'm sure we can work that out for you," Tom said. "Is there anything else you'd like? How about some food?"

The five boys shook their heads, their eyelids drooping from lack of sleep. Anger flared in Severus's chest as Sprite laid his head against Ra's side, his eyes slipping closed. It looked like none of them had had a good sleep in days. Deep lines cut below their eyes, rimmed with black.

"Severus, could you show them to the guest wing? Twiggy should have one ready for use," Tom instructed.

Severus nodded and glanced at the oldest of the five boys. Ra's eyes were wide a little in fear, although the rest of his face remained stoic and unchanged.

"You can trust me. I'm a teacher and a healer. I have no interest in young boys," Severus said, trying to calm the teen.

Slowly, Ra nodded, although Severus could tell he wasn't convinces. He trudged sleepily after the Potions Master as the dark man led them out of the hall. The other boys fell into line behind him, sticking close with no more than one small step between each of them.

The guest wing of Riddle Manor was as big as a house unto itself, a remnant of the days when guests used to stay for months on end. Severus himself had a room in the guest wing, but it was far away from any main parts of the house so that he could brew in peace. The floors were stone, but covered in elaborate Persian rugs. Moving paintings depicting past members of the Riddle family lined the walls. A single door, the nearest one on the right, was propped open, waiting.

"This will be your room," Severus said, motioning to the door.

The five boys gasped as they glanced into the room. It was just as elaborate as the corridor. A four-poster bed was pushed up against the far wall, adorned in silver sheets and at least six fat pillows. In one corner sat a chess set and in another, a few bookshelves and some comfortable chairs. Heavy drapes guarded the bay window that led out onto a small balcony. A thick, but inconspicuous rope hung down from the right side of the drapes.

"If you need anything at any time, all you need to do is pull on the rope next to the drapes and she will help you," Severus continued, to the watching as the boys slowly inched into their new home.

Ra glanced over his shoulder at the man and smiled a little in thanks while the three middle boys, Siren, Faun, and Angel, each inspected a different area of the bedroom. Sprite, who hadn't strayed from Ra's side, stepped over to Severus and pulled lightly on the sleeve of his robe. Severus looked down at the small boy who made a flurry of hand signals.

Frowning, Severus flicked his gaze up to Ra who snickered lightly, although Severus couldn't hear it. Giving the piece of paper that he'd used to communicate to Severus, Ra pointed to a series of letters."

H-E-S-A-Y-S-T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U-F-O-R-S-A-V-I-N-G-U-S.

He says thank you for saving us. Severus's heart constricted a little as he met the deep green gaze of the young man before him. Ra nodded in agreement, smiling slightly. Glancing down at Sprite, who stared up at him with adoration, he reached out and ruffled the youngest boy's blond hair.

"You're welcome," he said softly, unaccustomed to being thanked.

Michael Potter had never forgotten his brother, not like his parents had. He didn't blame Alana for not remembering. She was only five when Harry had been sent away. Their parents, however, had Michael's full and unabated anger.

They had completely forgotten Harry even when the smaller boy had been living with them. All of their attention was focused on Michael and Alana. It didn't take him long to figure out that his brother was being neglected and he often reminded his parents to include Harry in family activities.

He had tried to be a good older brother, despite his fame and their parents. They had played together when their mother allowed it and he would help Harry through his nightmares and dreams. But by the time he was five and Harry was four, his younger brother had given up on their love.

It was a day that would never leave him. Mum and Dad had promised to take Michael and Alana to see Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Mooney at the small cottage they lived in. Michael, in his rush to see their beloved uncles, had run ahead through the Floo and only realized nearly half an hour later that his brother wasn't with the family, after Uncle Mooney had asked where the smaller boy was. Their parents had told him that Harry had asked to stay home. Mum and Dad had never lied to Michael before so he just assumed it was true, although he thought it strange. Both Padfoot and Mooney were Harry's godfathers, just as they were Michael's. After they arrived home that night, Michael had gone looking for his brother to share with him their godfathers' newest present. He'd found Harry sitting in his favorite corner in the attic, crying and alone. Michael had asked him what was wrong and Harry had shied away from him, saying things like 'Mum and Dad don't love me, so why should you?' Mum and Dad had just left Harry there. They hadn't even told him that they were leaving.

Even eleven years after that day, Michael still remembered it as clearly as if it had been five minutes ago. He shivered whenever he thought about it.

Today was his birthday, July 31st, the same day as Harry's. They had been born exactly a year apart, a miraculous event even in the Wizarding World. Padfoot and Mooney were due to arrive any minute and Michael was in the attic, perusing the family albums. Harry was only featured in the few first, which included pictures from the first year of the younger Potter's life. After that, the photos were sporadic and usually, he was in it only because he'd managed to squeeze himself into the background.

Finally, he came to the last picture that had ever been taken of his little brother. Pulling it out from the album, he held it up to the light. The photo had been taken by Neville's grandmother on Michael's seventh –and Harry's sixth- birthday. Of course, only Michael's had been celebrated by their parents. Michael had his arm slung over his brother's shoulder, pulling him in close as they posed for the shot. Mere seconds after the picture had been taken, Mum had come over and shooed Michael away to meet the Minister, leaving Harry alone once again.

Suddenly, he heard soft steps on the attic stairs and Michael looked up. Mooney poked his head into the attic, smiling when he saw his godson. The werewolf padded over to him, taking a seat next to the teenager. They both stared down at the picture in Michael's hand.

"You miss him, don't you?" Remus asked quietly.

Michael nodded, tears pricking at his eyes. Less than a month after that birthday, he had awoken to find his parents milling about the kitchen, Alana eating a bowl of cereal. The five-year-old had been chuckling and giggling as their father made faces at her. Michael had taken his own seat at the table, wondering where Harry could be. His younger brother had always woken up before him. After breakfast, he'd cornered his mother in the kitchen and asked about the younger Potter. Mum had smiled down at him and said, "Harry is no longer going to be living with us. He's gone to your aunt and uncle's. He was such a bad child, anyway."

"Why did Mum and Dad really send him away?" Michael asked. "Harry was always so well behaved, surely more than Alana or I were. He was so quiet, so shy, but when you got him riled up, he had a tongue like barbed wire and a mind like the world's strongest sealing charm."

"Sirius and I have been wondering about that for the past ten years. Your parents never gave us a clear answer," Remus replied.

"Where do you think he is?" Michael asked.

Five years prior, he had gone with Remus and Sirius to the Dursleys' house in order to retrieve his brother. The second year Michael had been thrilled at the idea of seeing his beloved brother again and had forced his uncles to take him with them. Harry was supposed to have started Hogwarts that year, but when Vernon opened the door, Michael's heart had sunk. He saw the hard, angry stare that his mother's brother-in-law had given each of them. When they asked to see Harry, the fat man had simply told them that they'd given him up the day he was brought to the house.

Sirius had raged for a while after that, throwing things and cursing the names of his best friends. Michael and Remus had been stunned, unable to comprehend what was going on. Vernon didn't know where Harry was, just that they'd driven him deep into London and threw him out of the car into an alley. A child had been lost; a wizarding child, no less, and the younger brother of the Boy Who Lived.

"We will find him, Michael. He'll come into his Inheritance as a Potter in only a short while. Your parents never disowned him so he'll still go through the changes. We will be able to track him then," Remus said softly, rubbing his godson's back.

"What if he doesn't remember us? What if he doesn't want to come home?" Michael cried.

"He will, Michael. You were too important to him for you to be forgotten easily," Remus said. "Come on, it's your birthday. Let's celebrate for the both of you."