Summary: Betrayed and killed by the one they considered their best friend, Harry and Hermione made a different decision when they found themselves at King's Cross station. They chose to travel in a alternate universe and create a normal life for themselves. But of course as Harry Potter doesn't do normal he finds himself in 1962 in a world in which Grindelwald escapes from Nurmerngard and continues his war against muggles and Tom Riddle is the DADA professor. Not to mention that Voldemort is not happy being left behind and follows them in this dimension with an unknown plan in mind...What kind of destiny will they carve for themselves as they prepare to start Hogwarts as first year students? Also, a new prophecy is made...

Warnings: Slash, violence, humor, some Dumbledore bashing, swearing, Grey! Harry and Hermione etc.

Pairings: LV/HP, HG/SS

"talking"

'thinking'

/mental speach/

$parseltongue$

Harry awoke with a start. He was lying on a small bed, covered by a poor excuse for a blanket trying to put the pieces of his mind together. There was a single moment of blissful ignorance in which he knew nothing. And then there was pain.

With a hissing breath he gritted his teeth trying to keep silent as wave after wave of memories assaulted his mind. Memories of his life as Harry Potter. And memories of his life as Hadrian Fowl. The pain grew stronger and stronger as information was poured into his brain with the gentleness of a Cruciatus curse. Suddenly it stopped and Harry was left with a pounding headache and two sets of memories to sort out. Which, thanks to the connection he had had with Voldemort and what said connection entailed, wasn't such a hard thing for him to do.

So...the spell has worked and he was not dead, as he should be, but alive in an alternate universe. Nothing out of the ordinary in the life of Harry Potter. Just a normal day. Sure, he had done the impossible, again he might add, but that was normal in his abnormal life. He could work with that.

Anyway, it seemed that his counterpart in this universe was Hadrian Fowl, an eleven year old orphan and a muggleborn wizard, Harry realized as flashes of the accidental magic performed by Hadrian, me, he forced himself to remember, appeared in his head.

He didn't really understand the effects of the spell, heck he didn't even remember the spell itself, but he knew that it was supposed to ...blend... his and his counterpart's soul together until they become a single entity and that, while the caster personality, in this case his own, would be dominant, all the knowledge, experiences and even some of the feelings the counterpart might have towards certain things or persons were mixed with his own. He also knew that he looked different now, that he had taken on the appearance of Hadrian, only retaining the most unique characteristics of his old body. He wished he had a mirror.

He wondered how Hermione was coping with everything. He had a feeling that she was okay and that he would see her soon. He couldn't explain the feeling but he just couldn't bring himself to worry. Although, when he does see her again, he was sure she would kick his arse for leaving her stranded in another world without a word of explanation. But Hermione was a smart girl so she would figure everything out in no time. He hoped. For his sake.

As he drifted to sleep, letting his subconscious finalize the last steps of the merging, Harry idly wondered who Hermione's counterpart was...

HP-Chronic Hero Syndrome

Dumbledore knocked on the mahogany door of his DADA professor with his eyes twinkling more brightly than ever.

"Come in," a male voice silkily drawled from inside the room and Dumbledore entered the dim-lit office, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"Albus," the man greeted, lifting his eyes from a piece of parchment. "How can I help you?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you when you are busy Tom," started Dumbledore eyeing the large stack of files and papers on the man's desk, "but I have important news involving Grindelwald."

"Nonsense, Albus. You know that you are always welcome in my office," responded the professor inviting, with an elegant wave of his hand, the headmaster to take a seat across from his desk. Although there was a hint a mockery in his tone, Dumbledore took no notice, seeming very excited by the news he had.

"Now," he continued as Dumbledore made himself comfortable in the armchair, "what news do you bring? I suppose it's good to make you so happy."

"Ah, Tom, you know me so well. It is, actually. You see, I was interviewing Miss Cassandra Vablatsky, a charming lady, if a bit eccentric," he commented, at which Tom shot him an 'as if you can talk' look which Dumbledore skillfully ignored, "for the post of Divination that was recently left open. In the middle of the interview however she made a prophecy that made quite an impression concerning, not only this war, but the fate of the wizarding world at large."

"A prophecy, Albus?" asked Tom in a disinterested tone of voice but the focused eyes that now pierced Dumbledore betrayed his interest.

"The tides of fate have changed their course...

The child of destiny

That death itself defied will come

And savior he will be...

Equal is to the serpent's king

As he'll be the one to cast

The spell that will mark him with Zeus' sign

The child will come at last...

Friends and foes alike will listen to his lead

Together for a better future they'll fight

Sealing the ancient gap he'll become

A bridge between dark and light...

Only he can heal the dying magic

And free what once was bound

The magic itself will perish

If he won't found

The four brave warriors'

Of both dark and light

That using intelligence and cunning

Loyally side by side with him they'll fight...

Leader to them he must become

And forge a deep friendship bond

The magic itself will perish

If they won't be found..."

Dumbledore recited, the twinkle in his eyes growing more intense with each verse although it dimmed slightly at the end of the prophecy.

"How...intriguing", said Tom after a few moments of silence in which he took in the context prophecy. ' "Equal is to the serpent's king", hmm...'

"Isn't it? I also thought that," Dumbledore said in a way too cheery manner which made Tom want to sneer at the old fool. Too bad that he had to play the part of his friend and ally for now but soon...Letting go of that trail of thought before he was tempted to do something foolish Tom gave a nod to Dumbledore.

"I'll think of all the possible meanings of the prophecy and I'll let you know of what I come across. Now, there was something else I can help you with?" he asked wanting to be left alone to ponder the new piece of information he just received.

"Actually..." too bad that the headmaster had other plans in mind.

HP-Chronic Hero Syndrome

"Freak!"one of the older boys sneered, kicking him hard in the ribs one more time before leaving with the other goons, apparently getting bored of the impassive reactions that Hadrian gave. Harry didn't cry, it wasn't as if his life here was much worse than what he experienced at the Dursley's. It merely was as if the "Harry's hunting" sessions happened more often. As in several times a day. Well, at least he got food.

He winced, struggling to sit up. He felt dizzy and was painfully aware of all the children watching him from afar, not even one of them bothering to at least offer a word of compassion. 'Cowards' he thought hatefully, fury burning brightly in his chest. He now knew how Voldemort must have felt living in this kind of environment. No wonder he grew up to be a twisted Dark Lord. He wondered if he should use magic to teach those bullies how it felt to feel helpless...'NO! Bad thoughts Harry, bad thoughts...'

Still, no matter how much he refused to acknowledge those thoughts, he had to admit that the temptation grew stronger with each passing minute. He absolutely despised bullies and he loathed those who turned a blind eyes to their actions even more.

He stalked through the orphanage, wanting to reach his room as fast as he could, to reach his little sanctuary in this hell. It was the only benefit he got for being a 'freak'. Nobody wanted to room with him, so he was the only one in the whole orphanage that got his own private room. Sure it was gloomy and the roof gave the impression that it would come crashing down any moment but, after spending ten years in a cupboard, he couldn't complain.

"Are you alright Hadrian?" asked one of the caretakers as he passed through the halls, in fake concern. Harry didn't bother to answer as he continued on his way. He knew well enough that the question was a mere formality, that in fact they didn't gave a damn about his well being.

He couldn't help but think that in one of his previous lives he must have done some kind of heinous crime to be punished with a loveless childhood as both Harry Potter and Hadrian Fowl. Someone out there must be getting a real kick from watching him suffer.

Entering his room, Harry headed straight to his bed where he collapsed in relief. The thin mattress groaned as it collided with the rusty springs, but he didn't care. He reached with his left hand under his pillow and took out the only joy he had in the three days since he started his life as Hadrian Fowl. His Hogwarts letter. He traced the green letters with his finger, letting his mind fly to the only place that he considered home. That is until he reached the signature, '"Yours sincerely, Tom M. Riddle- Deputy Headmaster"', then he scowled. Logically, he knew that being in another universe meant that the people he would meet here could be completely different from those he knew from his universe. But he just couldn't imagine himself and the 'would be' Voldemort staying in the same room and NOT trying to kill each other. It just didn't work like that.

He sighed. Just how different would the magical world be from the one he remembered?

"Hadrian?"

Startled by the sudden interruption of his thoughts, Harry tried to hide the letter out of sight as he turned towards the doorway, his face carefully composed in a blank mask. He was met with the sight of one of the caretakers, Ms. Winter, who stood beside an attractive young man with midnight-blue dark hair and piercing eyes that were of the most vivid, deep and dark...crimson? And then he felt it. The darkest, blackest magic he had ever felt, insidious, almost as if it ghosted over him, caressing his skin. He drew in a shaking breath; it could only be...

Harry felt the need to twitch.

"A Professor Riddle is here to see you."

'No, really?' Harry thought sarcastically as he felt his mind going into overdrive, although he managed to maintain his composure on the outside, only straightening up from his lounged position to regard them better.

"Mr. Fowl, it is a...pleasure to meet you," Riddle all but purred in a smooth and cultured voice as he stalked in the room with the grace of a panther. "I assume you received your Hogwarts letter?"

"Yes, professor," he whispered respectfully . It wouldn't do any good to antagonize the man responsible with his grades and well being in class. After all, seven years is a long time and he didn't need another Snape on his hands.

He stiffened slightly as Riddle narrowed his eyes studying him, a smirk tugging at his lips. Harry struggled to remained expressionless under the intense scrutiny and allow Riddle the time to assess him.

"I am here to assist you with your shopping, Mr. Fowl," the man finally said, "so get dressed and ready to accompany me in, let's say, ten minutes", Riddle continued after another look at the lithe form of Hadrian Fowl. The boy had a petite body and black hair that was crimped in natural waves while a few unruly strands had a curl to them. The face was purely aristocratic; a trait only pure-bloods seemed to share, although his documents attested to his muggle heritage. The high cheekbones, the slightly hallowed cheeks, and the thin neck all pointed aristocratic. Yet, the boy was a claimed mudblood.

But those eyes…they glowed with emerald fire, blazing to life, burning with such a nice shade of green, the Avada Kadevra green...

Riddle couldn't help but be suspicious of the boy's parentage.

"Shopping?" the boy inquired naively. "But I don't have any money," Harry said, disappointment coloring his voice.

"There is a fund Hogwarts takes out for orphaned students, Mr Fowl", the professor responded to his silent question. "Now, after you're ready meet me at the entrance. I'll be waiting for you," Riddle continued, heading towards the doorway.

"Understood, professor," Harry said, watching the departing form of his former nemesis. As he was preparing for a shopping day with the 'could be' Dark Lord, Harry couldn't help but wonder why all these things happened only to him...

...TBC...

AN/ Hi there ^-^ I wanted to give my thanks for the wonderful reviews I received so far. It is my first time writing an HP fanfic and, as you can imagine, I'm not so confident but, with the encouragement given, I managed to get the courage to continue writing this. Also, English is my third language so if any of you could become my beta I'll appreciate it *puppy eyes*.

Anyway, I wanted to clear out for everybody that this isn't an "time travel fic" but an "alternate reality" one that has some time travel integrated in it. As it is, this fic is only at the beginning so I appreciate all the advices and recommendations you can give to me. I'll try to keep everything as less confusing as I can and give a logical explanation for all the differences that exist between my Hp world and the original Hp world.

Till next time ^-^