A/N: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 1: A New Body

"Avada Kedavra."

Harry Potter's three year old body crumpled on the ground, lifeless.

"No! Harry!" screamed Lily Potter, clutching her crying baby daughter as she watched her son's body in horror. She looked up at Lord Voldemort with tears in her eyes, pulling her daughter closer.

"No! Not my daughter! Take me in her place!"

Voldemort ignored the woman's pleading and cast a petrificus totalus on her. He swiftly moved in and caught the baby as Lily's hands snapped to her sides. The baby started crying even harder.

"Quiet, child. Everything will be alright," Voldemort consoled her as he put a warming charm on her body and set her down on her crib. She calmed down a little, her wailing turning into sniffles.

Lily Potter was struggling against the petrifying curse, trembling in vain as she tried to reach her daughter.

"Do not worry, Lily Potter. I promise I'll take good care of Iris," he said. He flicked his wand, and a killing curse hit her in the chest, ending her life just like her son and husband.

He watched her corpse for a second before turning back to the baby. She was craning over the crib to look her mother's body. She turned to him with a fearful look on her face, tears still visible on her cheeks.

He walked over to her and, concentrating his magic on his right hand, put it over her eyes. She quickly went limp, fast asleep. Laying her down, he reached for his necklace, breaking off a little chest that was attached to the bottom. He threw it onto the ground, where it expanded into a full trunk.

He floated Harry Potter's body up with his wand and set it down inside. Voldemort waved his wand once more, the trunk became smaller until it was necklace size again. He clasped it back on.

He turned back to Iris, and gently picked her up. As he made his way out of the house, he reached into his magic and tugged on a certain follower's Dark Mark, opening up a line of mental communication.

Barty, it's time, he thought.

Yes, my lord, came the reply.

On a remote island to the west of the British Isles, Lord Voldemort, a sleeping Iris Potter, and Barty Crouch Jr. appeared with a crack in front of a cave entrance.

Voldemort walked in, with Crouch rushing behind him. Reaching the first small, carved out room, he waved his wand and summoned a plush leather chair. He put little Iris down on it.

"Protect the girl with your life, Barty. You will not let her out of your sight."

"I understand, my lord," Crouch said, kneeling next to the chair as he pulled out his wand and watched the sleeping baby. Voldemort turned towards a hallway, leading to an intimidating set of black double doors with snakes inscribed on each side. He hissed "open" in Parseltongue, and the doors opened to reveal a much larger, circular room. There was a ritual circle on the floor, with runes drawn throughout the floor, walls, and ceiling. Every single one pulsed red with magical power.

The Dark Lord sucked air through his teeth at the sudden rush of magical power. Down the hallway, Barty Crouch gasped like a man who'd been plunged into ice cold water. Voldemort went in and hissed at the door again; it slammed shut.

Reaching the center of the room, he expanded his trunk again and pulled out Harry's body. Levitating it with his wand, he set it down in the center of the circle. He undid his robes and walked to a smaller circle near the border, which was connected by a red line to Harry's.

He pointed his wand at the toddler's body, and started the complicated wand movements for the ritual.

Minutes later, Voldemort was sweating with concentration as the room swirled with magic. There was a golden line connecting the Dark Lord and Harry at the skin above their hearts. The red runes around the room were flashing a bright red, making the dark room look like a twisted version of a starry night.

Suddenly, Voldemort felt a small pull towards Harry. Feeling excitement, he started moving forward.

His eyes widened as he saw his arms left behind. Wait, he had no eyes—he looked back, and saw that his entire body was standing behind him. He quickly stuffed his surprise, and continued moving on the golden line towards Harry.

There was a suffocating heat as he went closer and closer. Finally, he reached the end of the line, took a deep breath through his non-existent lungs, and walked inside. His heart seized, and it felt like someone was squeezing it in their fist.

Voldemort heard himself screaming, his voice morphing to that of a child's, and the golden line became thicker and thicker until it was completely absorbed into his new body.

He felt himself go limp, and collapsed into unconsciousness.

Voldemort awoke with a start, groaning as he pushed himself up with arms that felt far shorter than normal. He looked around the room, his vision hazy, and blinked a few times to clear it. The runes which were once flaring red with magical power were now nothing but black ink.

Smelling something burning, he looked at the smaller circle which held his old body. It was smoking black, reduced to a shriveled corpse.

He stood with shaky legs and tried walking, only to fall over. He grit his small teeth and resorted to crawling. He made his way over to the door and hissed "open" once more in parseltongue. His voice made him wince; it was much higher than he was accustomed to.

He put his hand on the wall and stood up. Taking a deep breath, he looked towards the room where Iris and Barty were, and called out, "Barty!". His voice sounded like a stranger's to his ear.

He heard footsteps, and then Barty Crouch rushed into the hallway, holding Iris who was still asleep. When he saw Voldemort, his jaw dropped.

"M-My lord?"

"It is me, Barty," Harry said.

The man opened and closed his mouth several times in astonishment. Harry sighed.

"Give Iris to me. Go inside that room, get my wand, and put my old body in the trunk," he commanded. Barty nodded and knelt down, holding Iris out to him.

Harry sat down with his legs crossed, and took Iris into his lap. Barty stood up and ran into the ritual room.

Harry, he thought as he stroked Iris's soft black hair. She was still sleeping soundly. I'm Harry now.

A few moments later, Barty walked back out the doorway.

"I have your wand and the body, my lord," he said.

"Excellent. Close."

The parseltongue wasn't understood by the Death Eater, who gave a small jump as the doors slammed shut.

"Carry Iris, and hold my hand. I need help walking."

Crouch showed no surprise at these orders; he had been commanded to do far stranger things in the past. Barty picked up Iris in his right hand, and held Harry's hand with his left one. They all went out of the cave.

Harry took a deep breath of fresh air when they reached the woods outside the cave. He glanced at the cave entrance for a few moments. Then, he nodded to Barty, who spun on the spot and apparated them all back to Godric's Hollow.

"Put Iris down in the crib. Move the mother in front of it. It should look like she died in front of her," Harry said to Barty, his little arms crossed in front of him. His follower moved the bodies as instructed.

"Yes, good. Put my body in front of the woman. Set that explosive on it's abdomen."

The explosive in question was a rock with a rune on it. It was overloaded with volatile dark magic, enough to blow the entire house into pieces. The girl Iris would not be harmed, as he'd added a few drops of her blood to make her immune to the effects.

He had made the rune in such a way that it would not harm him immensely. Physically, he would still be injured, but only enough to make it look like he was a bystander caught in the explosion.

Barty was the only Death Eater who knew what was happening here. The fewer who knew, the better, and not everyone could be trusted with knowledge like this. Either way, the world would believe the Dark Lord was vanquished, and Harry would be free to advance his plans.

"It's all set, my lord," came Barty's voice, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Good. Cast a severing charm on the rock to activate the explosive. You will have enough time to get yourself to safety. After that, go into hiding and keep my wand safe. Eventually, I will call for you."

Barty walked over and knelt in front of Harry. "I understand, my lord," he said. "Whatever happens, I want you to know it has been a great honor to serve you."

Harry nodded to him. Barty walked to his old body, pulled out his wand, and muttered, "Diffindo."

There was a hiss as black smoke started rising out of the rock. Barty ran out of the room, and Harry eventually heard a crack far outside as he apparated away.

The hissing reached an alarmingly high volume. Something big was coming. An explosion soon followed, so violent that it felt like it shook the entire world.

When Harry next woke, he found himself in a hospital bed. The walls were a beige color, and there was a peaceful silence all around.

With a groan, he sat up and looked around. Sunlight was shining through the window, and in front of him was a white crib. Iris was sleeping peacefully inside, without a single scratch on her.

Quite uncharacteristically, a smile bloomed on his face. The rune had worked as intended. He looked to his bedside table. There was a copy of the Daily Prophet there; in fact, there were quite a few around the room. He picked the closest one up. The headline was quite striking.

YOU-KNOW-WHO MISSING, PRESUMED KILLED BY POTTER CHILD

Reports of You-Know-Who's disappearance, originating on Halloween night, Friday, have been confirmed to be true. The dark wizard has been missing from action for a full forty-eight hours since his attack on the Potter family's home in Godric's Hollow. The home itself lies in ruin, perforated with dark magic.

The bodies of Lily and James Potter have been found in the wreckage. Their two children, Iris (1) and Harry (2), survive. Harry Potter was injured in the blast that destroyed the house and is receiving treatment at St. Mungos; his sister, Iris Potter, is reportedly completely unharmed. Aurors who arrived at the scene describe her as sleeping peacefully in the wreckage, "without a single scratch on her".

The organization known as the "Death Eaters" has fallen apart, with many members being arrested and more being caught each day…

The newspaper went on about how his Death Eaters were either imprisoned, or managed to wiggle their way out of Azkaban by claiming Imperius. Harry gave a scoff. Many of those claiming to have been forced into his service had professed their undying loyalty on several occasions.

Regardless, it was for the best. If people like Malfoy still had power, it would serve Harry well in the future.

He heard footsteps outside the door, and quickly put the newspaper back where it was. The door opened, and a brown-haired nurse walked in. Seeing that Harry was awake, she shouted something out to the hallway.

Half a dozen medical staff rushed into the room. Some began casting diagnostic spells on him. Harry ignored them, his eyes instead focused on the man that was standing in the doorway: Albus Dumbledore.

Harry felt a little apprehensive. If there was anyone who would be able to see through the ruse, it would be him. Dumbledore's attention wasn't on him, though; he was intently staring at Iris, who was still resting.

The healers pulled off his many bandages, and the nurse who'd first opened the door gently picked him up and made him stand on the bed. Upon seeing that he wasn't in pain, she sat him back down.

"Is Harry alright?" Dumbledore asked.

"Fully healed, sir. Those bandages we took off were from the last round of healing with did on him." The reply came from a man with short, dark hair. Unlike his colleagues, he was in a Healer's uniform rather than a nurse's.

"And you are sure there is nothing wrong with Iris?"

The man glanced over at the crib. "She's still as healthy as when we got her. It's the strangest thing. We've done every diagnostic we know on her, and yet we can't find anything wrong. Like I told you before, she should be dead with how big that explosion was. Her brother I can understand; he was far away from the explosion. But the girl? The reports said she was directly at the origin."

"Sir?" one of the nurses said, looking at Dumbledore. Her eyes shined with hope. "Is it true? Did she kill You-Know-Who?"

"I would refrain from jumping to conclusions. Only time will tell," Dumbledore said, still looking at Iris. "Whatever the cause the may be, though, any respite is welcome. In any case, I will be taking both of them to their new home. The children have an aunt, their only living family."

"Of course, sir."

The nurses picked both Harry and Iris up, and followed Dumbledore out of the room.