Hello! Warning for this Chapter Child Abuse, I doubt I will add anymore graphic abuse scenes after this. But if I do I will warn you. Enjoy please review!

P.S mind my spelling and grammar I don't have a beta 3

Chapter 3: Forgotten and Forsaken

Two years had passed since Harry and Isabella were left at Number Four, Privet Drive. Time had not been kind to the twins. The cupboard under the stairs had become their home—a cramped, dark space that barely fit the two of them anymore. At six years old, Harry and Isabella were small for their age, their thin frames made even smaller by malnutrition and the neglect they endured daily. Isabella's knees pressed against the door, while Harry curled up on his side, arms wrapped around her for warmth. The cupboard was dark, save for a sliver of moonlight that seeped through the small vent in the door.

Petunia and Vernon Dursley had made their lives a living nightmare, and Dudley, their spoiled cousin, joined in with cruel enthusiasm. The twins had forgotten much of their early years—only faint whispers of their parents' faces remained. All they knew now was that they were unwanted freaks.

It was the middle of the night, and their stomachs growled painfully. Harry's ribs pressed against his skin, and Isabella's clothes hung off her small frame like rags. The padlocks on the cupboard door gleamed faintly in the moonlight, a cruel reminder that there was no escape. Harry leaned back onto the wall only to flinch from the pain radiating from the old irritated scar. The twins flinched at the memory of how Harry got that scar.

~Flashback~

It had been a warm summer afternoon when the incident occurred. Harry had been weeding the garden while Isabella scrubbed the kitchen floor under Petunia's watchful eye. Harry, already exhausted and weak from lack of food, accidentally cut his hand on a thorny bush. Blood dripped down his palm, but he ignored the pain and continued working.

When the cut became too deep to ignore, he went inside, holding his injured hand close to his chest. His green eyes were wide with fear as he saw his aunt glaring at him, her lips pressed into a thin, angry line.

"Aunt Petunia," Harry said timidly, holding up his bloody hand. "I… I'm sorry. It's just a cut. It doesn't matter."

Petunia's face twisted with fury. "You filthy little freak!" she screeched, her voice so loud it made Isabella flinch in the other room.

Vernon stormed in from the living room, his face red and menacing. "What's all this racket about?" he demanded, his beady eyes narrowing at the sight of Harry's blood.

"Look at what he's done!" Petunia shrieked, pointing at the trail of blood droplets on the clean kitchen floor. "Look at the mess!"

Vernon turned to Harry, his face darkening with rage. "I'll show you what a cut is, freak," he snarled, grabbing Harry by the arm.

Harry tried to pull away, but Vernon was too strong. "No, Uncle Vernon," he begged. "Please, I didn't mean to—"

"Shut up!" Vernon bellowed. He yanked Harry onto the Kitchen table. Harry struggled, tears streaming down his face, but Vernon pinned him down with one hand while grabbing a knife off the table.

Isabella ran to them, screaming, "Stop! Stop it!"

But Vernon didn't stop. He pressed the blade into Harry's back, carving the word "FREAK" into his skin. Harry bit his lip so hard it bled, refusing to scream, though the pain was unbearable.

When Vernon finally stepped back, admiring his cruel handiwork, something inside Isabella snapped. An explosion of raw magic burst from her, knocking Vernon and Petunia out cold. The lights in the house flickered, and the glass doors in the kitchen shattered.

Breathing heavily, Isabella ran to Harry, who was passed out on the table, trembling. She dragged him into the cupboard under the stairs and shut the door behind them.

"I'm going to fix it," Isabella whispered, tears streaming down her face as she tried to clean the wound on his back. But no matter how hard she tried, the cuts wouldn't heal. They scarred, a permanent reminder of their suffering.

When Vernon and Petunia woke up, they found the twins locked in the cupboard. Without a word, Vernon slammed the door shut and added more padlocks and left them in there for a week.

~Present Day~

Now, one year later, Harry's scars ached whenever he moved. He and Isabella lay awake in the darkness, their empty stomachs gnawing at them.
Padlocks secured the door, ensuring they couldn't leave even if they tried. Their stomachs growled painfully, a familiar ache that had long since replaced any real hope of being fed.

"I'm hungry," Isabella whispered, her voice barely audible. She clutched Harry's arm tightly, her small hands trembling.

"Me too," Harry replied softly. He had learned to keep his voice low; loud noises often brought Vernon stomping down the hallway with his belt in hand. "Maybe we can sneak something from the kitchen again."

Isabella's eyes widened in fear. "Last time… they locked us in here for a week."

Harry's hand found hers in the dark, squeezing gently. "We'll be quick. They won't notice."

Slowly, Harry crept to the door, pressing his ear against it to listen for any signs of movement. The house was silent except for Vernon's loud snores from the bedroom upstairs. Carefully, he reached for the loose hinge they had managed to pry open with a spoon they'd stolen weeks ago. After some effort, the door creaked open just enough for them to slip through.

The twins tiptoed toward the kitchen, their bare feet making no sound on the cold floor. Harry opened a cupboard and pulled out a crust of stale bread, while Isabella scavenged for anything edible in the fridge. They worked quickly, but just as Harry grabbed an apple, Isabella froze, her gaze fixed on the window.

A dark figure stood in the backyard, motionless. At first, it looked like a shadow, but as it shifted, moonlight revealed scales glinting in the darkness. It was a snake—large and black, with piercing yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the night.

"Harry," Isabella whispered, pulling him back. "Someone's out there."

"Is it… hurt?" Harry asked, his fear momentarily replaced by curiosity.

"I don't know," she replied. He placed the apple back on the counter and moved cautiously toward the back door.

The snake's head turned toward them as if it understood they were watching. Harry and Isabella froze, unsure of what to do. But then, without thinking, Harry whispered "Are you okay?" the words slipping from his mouth in a strange, hissing language.

The snake tilted its head, and to the twins' astonishment, it replied in a soft, hissing voice,"I am unharmed… only hungry, can you help me young speaker?."

Harry and Isabella stared at each other, their confusion turning to awe. "Did you hear that?" Isabella asked.

Harry nodded,blinked, startled but fascinated. He glanced at Isabella, who nodded. They remembered the rat trap under the sink. Harry hurried to retrieve it, finding a trapped rat inside.

"Here," he said, offering the rat to the snake. Harry not thinking levitated the rat toward the snake, his eyes widening as he did it.

The snake's tongue flicked out again."Thank you, young ones. You are kind."

It took the rat and slithered away into the night.

"Harry," Isabella whispered, her eyes wide. "H-how did you do that?"

"I-I don't know," Harry admitted. But for the first time in years, he felt… different. He felt like maybe, just maybe, he wasn't a freak.

Far from Privet Drive, in an ancient and hidden manor, Voldemort sat in a grand chamber, his appearance restored to that of his younger self. His black hair was sleek, his features sharp and commanding. Beside him stood a woman of striking beauty: Eleanor Le Fay.

Eleanor's mismatched eyes—one green, one blue—shimmered with power. Her dark hair cascaded down her back, and her presence radiated both grace and danger. She was the witch Voldemort had encountered in the woods during his wraith-like state. She had saved him, piecing his fragmented essence back together.

Voldemort turned to her, his crimson eyes glowing faintly. "We must find them," he said, his voice soft but firm.

Eleanor smiled, her lips curling in a way that was both enchanting and chilling. "Patience, my love. The wards around them are weak, but they are still in place. It will take time to track them."

"They are my heirs," Voldemort said, his voice growing sharper. "I felt their power that night. They will not suffer as I did. They will be mine."

Eleanor stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. "And they will be ours, our children my love. Our heirs, together, we will give them the family they deserve."

Voldemort's expression softened, and for a moment, there was something almost human in his eyes. "The Potters will pay for what they've done to them. I will make sure of it."

Eleanor's smile widened. "And the wizarding world will bow before the House of Slytherin and Le Fay once again."

Harry and Isabella curled up in their cupboard, holding on to each other for comfort. Far away, plans were being set in motion to change their lives forever. No longer would they be forgotten.