Disclaimer: When I take over the world I may be able to buy Harry Potter and my other favorite works. Until then I remain a poor penniless jobless high school student. If you sue I'll try to give you my oldest little brothers but that about it.
Alright, this is a repost, since Green-Eyed-Moony has been kind enough to beta read for me.
I think that I have found a compromise for the slash/non- slash question. I will write this part of the story as a friendship fic, and break the slash off into a sequel, so you can read one without the other. I won't chop off in the middle of my plot so don't worry about that, but I will expand on my plot for the slash sequel. What do you all think?
Tom Riddle smirked in satisfaction. Soon he would have the Potter boy at his mercy. And with the new potion he was having Severus brew for him, he would have his full strength back soon.
He eyed his Deatheaters with cool contempt. They were fools to think that he didn't recognize the contempt and disgust that was written on their faces when they bowed to kiss his robe.
But soon that would all change. With this new potion he would be restored to his youthful twenty or so year old body. He would regain his youth, and his life, just to spite that old fool Dumbledore.
That ignorant old fool. He always thought he knew what was best, didn't he? It was best that he stay within that awful muggle orphanage. It was best that he had to be treated like scum whenever he wasn't at school. Tom sneered. And look where the old coot's all-knowing meddling had gotten him. He was fighting a Ministry that was supposed to be on his own side! Guided by that idiot Fudge no less!
And perfect Harry Potter. Albus Dumbledore's pet Gryffindor. The boy who lived, and ruined his revenge. He had meant to take out Dumbledore's favorites, and he had taken out many of them. Then there was the prophecy; he had thought to spare the Potters for the Evans girl's compassion towards his Slytherins. But the prophecy was too big of a threat.
Well now he would take his revenge. He would shatter Dumbledore's golden boy. He would fulfill the prophecy once and for all. Harry Potter would die tonight.
Harry tossed and turned as his scar once again troubled his dreams. He woke to a bone-searing pain and an earsplitting scream, which took him a moment to recognize as his own.
A heavy pair of footsteps thumped closer and closer to his room. And a sense of foreboding filled him as he realized that he'd wakened his uncle. His face was sheet white by the time Vernon Dursley burst through the door.
"You bloody boy! Get up! How dare you wake Petunia and I with your freakish problems! Get out here, boy!" A large purple-faced Vernon shouted angrily.
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" The small boy began.
There was a resounding smack and the rest of his sentence was cut off as he fell to the floor in pain.
"I've heard enough of your excuses you worthless freak! You don't deserve all that we've given you!" his uncle shouted.
The small green-eyed boy was shoved under the stairs into a tiny cupboard hardly big enough for him to fit into.
"And not another sound!" Vernon yelled as he pounded back up the stairs.
Harry settled uncomfortably down on the hard wooden floor of the cupboard for a hopefully dream free couple of hours. Little did he know...
Tom Riddle, a.k.a. Lord Voldemort grinned maliciously as he stood in front of Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Finally the moment was his.
He held out his hand in the dim predawn light and let three drops of blood fall to the ground. An earth-shattering tremor rocked the town, and the unseen wards protecting the wizarding world's savior fell.
He slipped in the door just in time to see a large, angry muggle race down the stairs, straight to a cupboard.
"What did I tell you boy! No funny business, you ungrateful little freak! How dare you defy me!" Vernon screamed, oblivious to the danger that he was in.
Tom watched in morbid fascination as the large man dragged a boy from under the stairs.
"No! Uncle Vernon I didn't do it! I swear! Don't!" The child cried out painfully.
Tom's eyes widened in shock. Impossible. It couldn't be the Potter boy. Why would that old fool-?
Tom felt nauseous as he saw the man strike the "savior of wizard-kind" across the face. It brought back so many memories...
A small black-haired boy in a crowded orphanage... "You worthless little ingrate! We should just throw you out onto the street!" "Look, everyone, it's the freak! Grab him!" "Don't let him get away!" Tom finally shook himself out of his stupor.
"Child, go get your things. You are leaving." Tom said in the deadly whisper of his younger voice.
Harry glanced up at his savior, a man with short black hair and piercing blue eyes. He hesitated, but at a look from the young man he hurried up the stairs and grabbed his trunk, hastily throwing his wand, pictures, cloak and other things inside it.
He hurried down the stairs to see the young man waiting for him, and his uncle no-where in sight. He glanced up at the young man to ask him his name and paused. There was something so familiar about him. He knew he had met him somewhere before... but where?
He didn't have time think before the man grabbed his hand and activated a portkey. He barely caught a glimpse of a grey beard coming in the door as the room disappeared in a blur.
Albus Dumbledore sighed heavily as he entered the house and caught a fleeting glimpse of two figures portkeying. He then saw the dead body of the large purple-faced Vernon Dursley carelessly tossed into the kitchen. Harry Potter was missing.
Well what do you think? This is my first fanfiction though I've written some original work before. How is it? Please review and tell me whether or not you guys want slash ok?