A/N: Everyone needs their own version of Slytherin!Harry! Hope you enjoy, this has been floating around in my head for a few weeks.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, all else goes to the amazing J.K Rowling.
Four-year-old Harry ran into the sunlit forest, pale cheeks rosy with exertion and his tinkling laughter sounding around him. His emerald eyes were wide in a childlike world of innocence and joy. Damon ran behind him and laughed as he chased his younger twin brother.
The clumsy little boy suddenly tripped on an unfortunate tree root and landed in a pile of twigs and rocks. Damon yelled his name as tears started rolling down Harry's cheeks and held his now-bleeding knee. Damon threw his arms around Harry in an attempt of comfort as Harry smiled through his tears at his brother. Damon helped support Harry as they stumbled back to their manor.
As Harry and Damon arrived at the house, Lily and James Potter sat opposite to the famous Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. Lily's emerald eyes were brimming with tears at the old wizard's words and James's prominent jaw was clenched with difficulty.
As soon as Lily spied the stumbling Damon and obviously hurt Harry, she nearly fell over herself to help them to the couch. Her beautiful emerald eyes were wide with motherly worry as she held Harry's earnest and tear-striped face.
She quickly healed and cleaned his wound while James and Albus shared a fond look. Damon was standing at Harry's side, holding his hand, worry evident on his young face.
After Lily had sent the two boys upstairs to play in their rooms, Albus's blue eyes did not hold the cheerful twinkle.
Lily Potter took her place next to James and looked at the headmaster, anxious.
James swallowed down his silence and finally spoke.
"Albus, is there any way we can hear the prophecy?"
Albus sighed, but recited in an old, tired voice:
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives, the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."
Lily and James paled at the significant words.
"I've already put the Longbottoms under the Fidelius and I highly recommend you choose the same. If you do not want to anyone else to being the Secret Keeper, then I will if need be."
James and Lily shared a long look.
"We appreciate the offer, Albus. Me and Lily put total trust and faith into Peter, so we will appoint if you don't mind," James said, his amber eyes holding true gratitude.
Albus' eyes twinkled and he smiled kindly. "It is understandable."
The pair stood up and shook hands with Albus, both youthful faces pinched with worry.
"It's always a pleasure to see you James and Lily, but I wish it were under happier circumstances."
Lily and James Potter nodded in understanding and bid Albus farewell, walking the famed wizard to the Apparation point.
Lily cast a final glance behind her at her two precious boys that were presently playing on the couch. Kissing each a final goodbye, she took James's arm as he led her towards the door.
Peter Pettigrew smiled and waved as they exited the manor.
"Have a lovely time, enjoy yourselves!"
The door closed, a note of finality in the sound.
Peter allowed the trust-me grin to slip off his face as he turned towards the living room, laughter filling the silence of the house.
A regretful expression found his way onto his face as he looked at the two adorable boys playing on the couch. The raven-haired and emerald-eyed one looked at Peter and gave him a sunny smile. The red-haired and amber-eyed one attacked him while he wasn't paying attention, pulling him down as they piled on top each other in a childish challenge, giggling at the results.
Suddenly, a large crash came from the front door. Peter turned around slowly, already knowing who he would see.
There, stood Lord Voldemort in his glory. He gave a startingly cold and malicious grin full of pointed teeth at the now-shaking Death Eater.
He fell to his knees as the Dark Lord approached him. Peter kissed the rough fabric of Voldemort's robes as he towered above him.
"Peter, my loyal follower," his icy voice rang out in the air,"you shall be rewarded for your treachery of the Light!"
The Inner Circle Death Eaters burst through the walls, destroying the Potter house to rubble. Curses flew through the air, hitting, smashing, and shattering everything in sight.
Voldemort strode to the now-quiet twins, cold laughter ringing throughout the chaos. The two little boys peered at the chaos with differing expressions.
Damon, registering the chaos with a child-type of alarm, started crying wrenched, huge sobs.
Harry, however, gazed silently at the tall Dark man. His emerald eyes locked with the blood red of Voldemort's irises.
The raven-haired emerald-eyed one stood, staring at Lord Voldemort. The boy had silky locks of darkness that fell to his mid-back and almost the piercing emerald eyes of his mother. His magnificent eyes were a shade more intense of emerald and his face was aristocratic. The child looked nothing like James or Lily. Eerie intelligence shone in the depths of his eyes.
The other one had his mother's messy red hair and warm brown eyes of his father. His face was chubby and his body was bigger than the first one.
Voldemort stopped in front of the eerily silent twin. He slowly drew his wand and pointed it directly at the small boy's forehead. He couldn't help but look into his eyes one last time. Right before the bright jet of green light of the Killing curse came hurdling towards him, Voldemort noticed his eyes suddenly drop to a powerful, dark green.
The curse struck. At the last moment, Voldemort realized it had reflected before letting out a bloodcurdling, all-consuming scream. There was a large flash of light before everything around them crumbled.
Lily, James, and Albus Dumbledore arrived to see the house in shambles, except for one spot. There, the only clean spot in the middle of the debris, lay a crying Damon and a sleeping Harry.
Albus Dumbledore looked over the two now-sleeping twins, eyebrows furrowed. Each had scars. Harry had a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead while Damon had one with no particular shape on his chest.
Albus decided, blindly, that Damon had to be the chosen one for Harry was far too small to be the one.
Unknowingly to Albus and the Potters, this was one of his biggest mistakes.
So? What did ya guys think? Leave a review or send me a message! Thanks for reading!
Chapter Revised on 4/4/15.