Prologue. –Results of the Killing Curse-

A girl, or rather a young woman, entered a small and rather shabby-looking office, carrying a small child in her arms tightly wrapped in a surprisingly large blue blanket. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled back in a badly done braid and a worn apron almost completely hid her grey dress. She had a small smile on her lips as she looked down at the sleeping child, he couldn't be much older then perhaps a year. When her eyes left the boy and travelled towards a skinny-looking woman sitting behind a desk a few feet away the smile seemed to waver uncertainly. The woman was in her mid thirties but at the moment she appeared much older as her eyes tiredly travelled back and forth on the letter in her hands.

"What is it Martha?" She asked tiredly, sending the other woman a quick glance before they once returned to the apparently troublesome letter.

"This boy, I have never seen him before ma'am." She answered respectfully, glancing down at the child in her arms as she said it to make it clear which child she was talking about. "He was sharing bed with Tom Riddle."

"Let me see him." The matron ordered, walking over to the younger woman, looking down at the small child's soft features. His eyes seemed to carry an almost glowing green colour as they slowly opened to look at the woman and on the left side of his small forehead was an oddly shaped scar, otherwise he seemed to be in perfect shape.

Mrs. Cole blinked a few times, trying to place the child residing in Martha's arms. "How could he possibly have been…" she trailed off quietly when she could not. "Did you find a note or a letter?"

"No ma'am. All I found was a name embroidered on the blanket, Harry J. Potter."

"Strange, and you said you found him with Tom Riddle?"

"Yes, ma'am. I came into check on the young ones since I heard crying. Tom was quiet, of course, only staring at the child, but when I tried to take him away Tom tried to grab a hold of him as if to stop me from taking him. I was quite surprised, as I'm sure you can imagine

"Yes…" she muttered. "And you are sure there wasn't anyone else in there?"

"Yes, ma'am." She answered once again. "I'm quite sure. I even looked out the window and tried to open the door to see if someone had snuck out but it was locked, like it should be."

"It would appear we have yet another orphan on our hands then." She told her, sounding very troubled. "Put him back with Tom and we will ask Mr Zackary to bring up another bed tomorrow."

Little less then ten years later an oddly dressed man with long auburn hair and beard sat down in the same office in front of the same woman. He didn't seem to belong there and his odd cloths seemed to make the matron question the man's sanity something she wasn't quite able to hide.

"I am here, as I told you in my letter, to discuss Tom Riddle and Harry Potter, and the arrangements for their respective features."

"Are you family to either of the boys, Mr Dumbledore?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I'm a teacher and I'm here to offer them a place at my school."

"What school is this then and how come you are interested in Tom and Harry?"

"It's called Hogwarts. And we believe they both possess qualities we are looking for. I have a letter that will explain it all to you, ma'am." And with that he pulled out a blank piece of paper, but Mrs. Cole seemed transfixed by it. After few moments she looked up at Mr Dumbledore.

"It seems to be perfectly in order." He only smiled in response.

"I was wondering if you could tell me anything about Harry Potter's and Tom Riddle's history? I think Tom was born here in the orphanage?"

"Oh yes, that is correct. I had just started here at the orphanage then. New Year's eve, it was, bitter, cold, snowing, you know. Nasty night. We took her in, she gave birth within the hour, dead within another hour." She finished, pouring herself a glass of Gin, silently offering the man one of his own, which he politely declined.

"Did she say anything before she died?" Mr Dumbledore asked. "Anything about the boy's father perhaps?"

"Now, as it happens she did; I remember she said to me, 'I hope he looks like his papa' and I won't lie. She was right to hope it, because she was no beauty- and then she told me he was to be named Tom, for his father, and Marvolo, for her father – yes, I know, funny name. We thought she might have been in the circus, and she told us the boy's surname was to be Riddle. Then she died without saying another word. And so we named him, but no one came looking for the boy. No Tom Riddle, nor any Marvolo."

"And Harry Potter?"

"We don't know anything about him; he just appeared in Tom's bed on all hollow's eve almost ten years ago now. We don't even know if that's his name, but it was the name on the blanket. 'Harry J. Potter' it said. And a nice blanket it was too, didn't seem his parents were in any need of money, no not at all." She finished. Then as an after thought added. "They are both funny boys, they are."

"Yes, I thought they might be." The man offered thoughtfully.