-Harry at eight years old-

Harry was bored.

It wasn't the kind of boredom where he had nothing to do. In fact, he was training with his sword trying to perfect a certain set of swings he read up on. It was the kind of boredom where you did the same thing every freaking day and got bored of it.

Harry was bored of his life's routine.

It was the same set of routines everyday! He would wake up early in the morning to jog around the lake, followed by some meditation. Breakfast usually depended on his father's mood. If Voldemort was in a bad mood, Harry would make a sweet breakfast. If his father was in a good mood then it'd be a salty breakfast. Food was usually the only variation in his routine.

Next, Harry would have lessons with his father on Occlumency and Legilimency followed by some dueling lessons. He would then be chased off by Voldemort with a 'leave me to do my paperwork' to practice his swordsmanship on his own until lunch.

Lunch was another variable in his routine. It usually kept him wondering if his father would join him or not. That was about it.

After lunch Harry would do his own reading in the library and later, Voldemort would call him over to the study room to be tested on one thing or another. After that, Harry would be sent off again to do some self studying.

Dinner was more predictable than lunch. His father always ate dinner with him no matter what. Supper was a whole different question though. Supper was usually a mystery – sometimes they had supper, sometimes they didn't.

All in all, Harry was bored of his life, tired of his routine, wanting a change, etc, etc.

Dropping his sword, he sat on the ground and thought about something he could do to change his routine a little. Maybe he'll cook lunch today? Nah he didn't feel like it… What about going out for lunch? Would his father allow it? Harry was sure that if he didn't go off for too long, Voldemort wouldn't mind.

After going back to the cave to get some money, Harry ventured off to the nearby town. He wore a casual muggle t-shirt and sweat pants and also a headband which kept the sweat away from his eyes. Harry chose to eat in a small café just around the corner which didn't seem too crowded. Actually, it seemed very empty which suited him at the moment.

Stepping in, Harry realized why there was no one in here - it was a wizard's café, warded against muggles. The cave was located near a small muggle town that had hardly any wizards about. The wizards that actually stayed in the town were farmers or had occupations that didn't really have any connection to the wizard community. This was one of the main reasons why Voldemort chose to stay in the area. However, he was still paranoid and warded the cave against anyone other than its occupants. Anyway! Moving back to where Harry was at the moment:

Harry took a seat near the bar as an old man whom he presumed was the waiter, approached him. He ordered a plate of pasta and a cup of juice while the waiter gave him doubtful looks as if he didn't have the money to pay for the meal. Harry pulled out the sack of coins and slammed a few sickles onto the table to prove a point. The waiter blushed, apologized, and went on to get his meal ready.

Harry took a good look around the café. It was decorated with pumpkins and cauldrons that bubbled green smog. Candles were lit since the windows were tinted to block the natural sunlight from streaming in. Harry also noticed there were bats hanging from the ceiling and to top it off, there was a layer of fog up to his ankles. Oh right, today was the thirty-first of October – All Hallows Eve.

Harry and his father never celebrated Halloween before but he'd seen muggle children all dressed up as monsters and other characters over the years on this date. He found out that they had some 'trick-or-treat' tradition and wondered how wizards celebrated Halloween.

A few men were gathered at a table in the corner drinking a smoking beverage and making a lot of noise. The table behind his consists of a family of two children and their parents. Harry squinted to see the headline on the newspaper the father was reading – In Memory of The Potters: Saviors of the Wizarding World, Defeaters of The Dark Lord.

Harry scoffed. As if mere wizards could take down his father. They can celebrate all they want now. His father will be back and these wizards will be so unprepared, his father will have no over taking over Britain.

The waiter soon returned with his food and Harry gave him the exact amount of money for it. The noise level of the café was getting louder as more men and a few women gathered at the table in the corner.

"I knew the Potters personally!" Boasted a man with long, dirty, ginger hair. "Kindest folks you'd have ever met."

"Fletcher! Stop bullshitting again! Everyone knows your nothing but a lousy cheater and a thief."

Fletcher grunted and took a swig of his drink. "It's true I tell ya. I even held little Harry, the hero of the wizarding world, in my arms." He cradled something imaginary in his arms and started to roar in laughter. "Whenever I looked into that babe's eyes I feel like I'm getting shot by the killing curse over and over again. His eyes were so green and they suck you in! I knew if anyone could kill the dark lord, it'd be him man."

Harry perked up at the mention of his name. Green eyes? Harry shifted his chair to face away from the crowd but continued to listen in.

The women urged Fletcher to go on and he did. "It was eight years ago on this very day. The Potters had went into hiding and no one, not even Albus Dumbledore knew where they hid. Somehow, the dark lord used his dark magic and tracked down them Potters. They were big threats to him, you see, and he heard that little Harry was going to be even more powerful than himself."

"Bless that little child. He died so young…" A woman sobbed and was cooed by another male.

Fletcher ignored the interruption and continued on. "The dark lord brutally killed James Potter and then proceeded to do the same to Lily Potter who pleaded for mercy but alas, none was given." He paused for effect and only continued when urged.

"The dark lord then moved over to little Harry's crib. He spoke the words of the killing curse and BOOM!" Several women screamed and a few men squeaked. "The curse rebounded killing both the dark lord and our savior. They say that even till today, the green eyes of one Harry Potter, as green as the colour of the spell that killed him, haunt the death eaters that still lurk around…"

"I heard he got his eyes from Lily Potter. That murdering bastard killed a sweet innocent child! Such savages have never been born!"

"Killed at birth!"

"Burned alive!"

Mutters of agreement went around the table as Harry wiped his mouth and left the café. He couldn't take it anymore. His father wasn't a savage! His father taught him math and had picnics with him. His father loved him and would never try to hurt him with ill intent. His father couldn't be training him only to get rid of the one he deemed as a threat, could he?

Shaking his head, Harry immediately veered off from that line of thought. His father had taken care of him after his parents died. His father did a good deed! Harry knew his father loved him dearly and yet, he couldn't help but wonder…

'Who were my real parents?'


Harry walked through the halls in deep thought. Was it possible to use the same recipe for the double fudge chocolate layered cake to make muffins instead? Muffins would be easier to carry around and he wouldn't get too full from eating just one muffin. Cakes took up too much space and the fridge back in the cave wasn't really big.

'Maybe I should ask father to get a bigger fridge…' He thought as he walked past a group of death eaters.

"-don't even know what our Lord sees in him. That son of a bitch ought to have died when his parents did."

"That brat even has Bellatrix smitten. Snape too. They're all going soft and it's that kid's fault."

"We should do something about it. Maybe the Dark Lord will reward us once he sees the error of taking that orphan in."

Harry took a peek from the corner he was hiding behind. Three men dressed in the full death eater's attire were currently chuckling to themselves as they moved away towards the reception hall of the Malfoy Manor. His father was in a meeting with his inner circle and so he was just doing a little exploring around the place.

Harry sighed and chose to ignore the three of them. He was lazy to kill them and well, there'll always be haters around. Bored once again, he decided to look for a certain blond he was so fond of…

'`~~OOooOOooOOooOOoo~~'`

Draco was annoyed. The lower years were making too much noise and the Hufflepuff's clothes were too brightly coloured. The Gryffindors' laughter was grating his eardrums and his friends were arguing too much. To top it off, Blaise was flaunting the money he had won from the bets. Everyone was being annoying.

It was a Hogsmed weekend and Blaise had suggested going to The Three Broomsticks so that he could treat everyone to some butterbeer. They had settled into a comfortable corner table away from the main crowd. Pansy and Daphne were bitching about one thing or another while Theodore was shouting at Vincent and Gregory about something they messed up.

He sighed as he continued to read his transfiguration book. His father had given him this particular book to make sure he was ahead of everyone else in his class. It was seventh year material but Draco had a clear understanding of the concepts behind the spells the book was trying to teach. However, this particular spell confused him.

"Having problems, Draco?" Blaise asked as he took a peek into Draco's book.

Draco pointed out a portion of the book on transfiguring materials. "I can't get this spell right. While I understand transfiguring a wooden matchstick into a metal needle, I don't understand how soft cotton can become hard glass."

"Transfiguration is all about having an image in your mind, isn't it?" came another voice from next to Draco's ear. Draco screamed in shock while Blaise backed off immediately. Everyone in the bar turned to look at their table while Pansy calmly erected a privacy barrier.

"Where the fuck did you come from!" hissed Draco as he placed a hand on his heart to calm himself down. Harry Potter, the Messenger of the Dead and Dark Lord's protégé had just materialized between himself and Blaise. Said protégé was wearing a snug fitting green tee and jeans. Though casual, Draco decided that the simple look fitted him perfectly.

Harry raised a brow. "It's not my fault you didn't hear me coming."

Draco's annoyance level starting rising. Why the heck did the Dark Lord's heir have to be so haughty? Then he suddenly remembered who he was talking to.

Bowing, he greeted his new Lord. "Young Master."

The green eyed man nodded back. "So what's this I hear about transfiguration?" Harry chose to sit on the other side of Draco of Blaise. He greeted Theodore who was sitting on his other side before focusing his attention on the book in Draco's hands.

Deciding to reel in his pride, Draco stated his problem: "Glass is hard, Cotton is soft and apparently we're supposed to envision the change of material. How am I supposed a 'envision' a change in touch?"

Contemplating the question slowly, Harry replied: "Well, what I usually do is link words like 'unbreakable' or 'flimsy' to envision touch." With that, Harry turned Blaise's cotton shirt into stone with a series of swishes of his wand. The girls 'ooo-ed' as they took turns to knock on Blaise's new black rock shirt while the unfortunate boy jittered uncomfortably.

Draco nodded in understanding. "Everytime I try to do the spell, this happens." With a flick of his own wand, Draco turned Vincent's cotton tee transparent. There was more flab than he'd ever need to see in his life and this was definitely classified as one of the most disgusting things Draco had ever seen.

"Interesting…" He heard Harry mutter after inspecting Crabb's shirt. "It's still cotton."

"That's the problem. I can't get it to change its structure but I can change its appearance."

"Honestly, I have a problem with colour…" Harry admitted with a meek voice. Draco was taken aback. The Dark Lord's heir was being… humble?

Using his wand, Harry transfigured an empty cup into an emerald green stone. "This green is the shade of the green of my eyes. Theodore, could you do the same?"

Theo took a look into Harry's eyes, nodded, flicked his wand and produced a similar stone. Placing the two stone next to each other, Harry then posed the question: "Does anyone see a difference?"

Draco stared hard at the two. Sure they had different shapes but the colour was the same… right?

"Theo's green is slightly different from your's." Pansy concluded.

"I don't see a difference…" Theodore continued his inspection. "They both look the same!"

"Pansy is right." Harry confirmed. The boys raised their brows skeptically while Pansy puffed up proudly. "The colour of my eyes is a #00FF00 while Theodore's stone is a #33FF00."

There was silence for awhile. "Huh?" everyone chorused.

"It's a specific computer coded number for each colour. Computers all use a Hexadecimal chart."

Silence again. "Huh?" What on earth was he talking about? Come-pewters? What were those?

Harry stared at their confusion in confusion. Apparently he had just realized that the bunch of them didn't know what computers were.

"It's like runes." He tried to explain. "Each rune corresponds with a certain letter or picture. Likewise, the Hexadecimal chart gives a code for each colour."

Everyone except Vince and Greg nodded in understanding.

"However, transparency is not a colour." Oh so that's why he changed Blaise's shirt into stone instead of glass! "I mean I can do hues and gradients but I can't make things transparent. A long series of code is required to make things transparent but somehow even though I input that code before I transfigure objects, there's still an error code which makes it impossible for me to turn things transparent."

Hues and gradients? Input? Just when Draco thought he understood Harry, he confused them again.

"Anyway, everyone has their own style of doing transfiguration. Father says that how well you transfigure things depends on how much control you have over your mind." Harry continued. "I'm sure if you find your own style, you'll be able to turn soft things hard easily, Draco. If you're still unable to do that, you could seek me for some help." Then, with a wink and a goodbye wave, Harry exited the pub and went his own way.

"Did he just…"

"He just hit on you. Didn't he?" Blaise completed Draco's sentence for him. The blond was too shell shocked to form a complete sentence. The table was silent, apparently trying to unravel the mysterious geeky, hot, flirty heir.

"I'm sure you'll turn to him whenever you're having a… problem. Right, Draco?"

Draco just turned to glare at the dark skinned boy before emptying his glass of butterbeer. Growling in annoyance, he pondered about the boy who seemed like a master yet a friend at the same time…

'`~~OOooOOooOOooOOoo~~'`

"There he is."

"So the note was right. Potter is really here."

"What are we waiting for? Albus told us to make it quick right?"

"Just don't hurt him too badly okay, Moody?"

"Whatever. It's his fault for not having constant vigilance."

"Now?"

"Wait for the signal, Tonks."

"How bout now?"

In an annoyed tone, a rough low voice replied – "Now!"

'`~~OOooOOooOOooOOoo~~'`

Harry decided he liked his new friends. They were definitely smart enough to hold a decent conversation. Also, they didn't treat him as if he was to be worshipped like his father. Smiling to himself, he pondered over ways to tweak his code for transparency so that it could work.

Searching through his computer-like-data memory, he was slightly startled when he heard a loud crash, followed by a hand that reached out to cover his mouth and suddenly he was yanked into an alley. His brain switched to alert mode immediately and his body moved instinctively. With one hand, he managed to jab an elbow into his attacker's ribs and with the other, he summoned his wand into his open palm and took on a defensive stance.

There were three attackers altogether and it seemed like he biggest one was the one who attacked him first. He was haggard looking and had some weird eye swiveling around its socket. He also had a wooden leg which seemed too short for him. Harry labeled him as mad-eyed-wooden-legged. The other man was a little worse for wear and had brown hair and a little moustache. He looked troubled and a little concerned. MEWL and Moustache exchanged looks and with a nod Moustache drew out his wand and aimed a stunner towards Harry who simply side stepped and raised a brow.

The alley was narrow and dimly lit which allowed little movement and judgment. Moustache was slightly surprised at his agility and quick thinking at first but recovered and started firing stunners at an incredible speed. Harry quickly labeled him as Speedy Moustache and chuckled lightly at his ability of naming people as he imagined little moustaches dashing around and climbing trees.

"What so funny?" MEWL was clearly annoyed. Harry chose not to answer but instead, he started shooting some darker curses at both SM and MEWL. A particular nasty one hit MEWL's thigh and it started to swell a deep purple. His attackers were only using stunners and so Harry concluded these people wanted to take him in alive. Not death eaters then.

Suddenly remembering there were three attackers, Harry turned to look for the third one expecting her to jump him from behind only to spot a woman with short jet black hair and green eyes trying to untangle herself from some nets amongst the rubbish bins. Rolling his eyes at her clumsiness he continued to focus on his other two, stronger attackers.

He decided to take them out one at a time. Sending a blinding flash of light towards SM, he ducked under the spell of MEWL and sent a low kick to the wooden leg of his attacker. The wooden leg broke and MEWL went straight to the ground. Ignoring the sting on his leg at the impact, Harry sent a crucio towards MEWL who let out a low growl but no screams (or mewls if you prefer). A tingling sensation from behind caused him to lift the spell and duck towards his left. It seems like the woman attacker had freed herself and joined the fight.

Harry looked at her with confusion. She had the same short black hair and same green eyes. It wasn't the same shade of green as his though. Her version of emerald green was different from both Harry's and Theodore's. It was probably a #66FF00. Keying that information into his system, Harry dubbed her 'his twin'.

His twin was a tactical fighter. She sent a steam of water towards him and when he dodged, she had already sent a stunner to where she predicted he would land at. Harry casually flicked up a shield and sent a 'Bombadar' towards the wall behind her. She jumped away from the wall but towards Harry who sent a roundhouse kick to her head, knocking her unconscious immediately. MEWL and SM had both recovered by then and started sending more lethal curses towards him from both sides.

Harry, whose heart wasn't entirely focused on the fight, decided that he needed a theme song whilst he fought. The first song that came to mind was 'Live Like We're Dying' but it was a little too cliché for the current moment – so he decided to go with 'Dance, Dance' by Fall Out Boy. Fighting hand to hand was much like dancing and Harry knew a little music helped the flow of movements anytime.

Humming out the tune of the song, Harry decided that hand to hand combat would most likely take his attackers by surprise since most wizards do not learn the art of fighting physically. MEWL was already a little unstable with one broken leg and another swollen one (technically his name would have to be changed from MEWL to ME but MEWL had a nicer ring to it). Harry continued to dodge and block curses left and right, slowly inching towards MEWL. When he was close enough, he dropped, rolled and lunged out towards MEWL with an uppercut which sent MEWL flying backwards and knocking him out immediately. With that, Harry turned to face his last attacker who seemed nervous now.

"Harry, you have to listen to us!" SM pleaded.

"I'm two quarters and a heart down, and I don't wanna forget how your voice sounds…" Harry sung out while stalking towards the last man.

Moving backwards, SM tried again. "I knew your parents! I was one of their best friends!"

"These words are all I have so I'll write them, so you need them just to get by…"

"The Dark Lord murdered them Harry! He took them out just like that!"

Harry stopped in half stride for a moment before continuing towards his target while singing: "Why don't you show me a little bit of spine you've been saving for his mattress, love?" He raised his wand towards the last man standing.

"Please, Harry! I understand what you're feeling right now! The Dark Lord probably brain washed you into thinking he's God or something but you have to understand that he's just a lying, cruel son-of-a-bitch! He murdered your parents! He made you an orphan! He took away the life that you could have! You could be loved, have friends and family!"

"I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me." Harry continued singing in a softer voice and hooded eyes. Lifting his head to meet the amber eyes of what could have been his friend and family, Harry smiled bitterly and replied with the next part of his song.

"This, this is the way they'd love if they knew how misery loved me."

Sending a stunner to the Speedy Moustache man with disappointed eyes, Harry snorted at their attempt at kidnapping him and brain washing him. As if he'd fall for that. He turned towards the exit of the alley and kicked MEWL on his way out. With a little hop in his step and a little jiggle in his shoulders, Harry left the alley still singing: "Dance, dance…" because that was all it was to him - a little dance.


-Harry at eight years old, Part 2-

"Father, can I ask you something?" Harry could tell his father was annoyed.

"What?"

"I'm your son, right?" Harry's little insecure voice caught the dark lord's attention. Sighing, his father put away his work to focus at the problem in hand.

"Get straight to the point, brat."

"I'm not your biological son, right?"

Voldemort raised a brow. "You were adopted, yes."

"Who are my real parents?"

"Lily and James Potter. They were murdered on this day."

Harry was shocked that his father was being so straightforward. He'd thought his father would deny everything just to ensure he wouldn't run away or something. So his father did murder his parents! Why? What motive did his father have when he was taken in?

"I was blamed for their murder, naturally." Voldemort said in such a flippant tone that Harry almost believed it.

"Dumbledore wanted to get his hands on you and train you to be a toy soldier of the light. Your parents, however, wanted to love you and let you have a normal childhood. There was a prophecy about how you'd be the one to kill me and so Dumbledore thought you were the solution to all their problems."

A prophecy, huh? So he really was his father's equal!

Voldemort continued. "Obviously I didn't want you, the one who was destined to kill me, in the hands of an enemy so I took you away from Dumbledore and brought you up. I knew there was no chance you'd fight for them if you were on my side first."

"So, who killed my parents?"

"Dumbledore, of course."

Harry blinked. Since when did dark lords need to blame others for a murder they committed? Harry was stunned, flabbergasted, shocked, confused and annoyed that his father would tell him such an obvious lie. He was an eight year old now! As if he would believe such stories.

"So it wasn't you, right?" Harry asked again like a mother would when she knew what her child had done and was giving him a second chance to admit his fault.

"It wasn't me." Voldemort said with such conviction, Harry almost fell for it. It annoyed him that his father was so blatantly lying to him! If the prophecy was true and he was the only one who could possibly kill the dark lord, his father would definitely try to kill him first rather than recruiting him. Harry was more than a hundred percent sure that his father was the one who killed his family.

And yet, somehow, he couldn't seem to care. Did it matter that the man who raised him and took care of him tried to kill him? No, but Harry still expected an apology! Did it matter that he could have spent his childhood with his real family? No, this was his real family now and he was more than happy with it. Nagini was his overbearing mother while Voldemort was his strict, easily angered, yet loving father. He would never trade them for anyone else in the world! He loved living in his cave with his father and Nagini rather than some oversized house with elves running all over the place! He would rather study with his father than a bunch of tutors who didn't give a shit about him! He would rather have pet snakes that teach him life lessons than a big dog that'll only know how to fetch things!

Life as it is was perfect! Why would Voldemort think that Harry would leave if he knew the truth? Didn't his father know that he loved him? Didn't his father know that his loyalty would forever be to him? Why was his father still unwilling to tell the truth?

Harry shot up in realization. He looked up at his father and gave him a loving smile – one that was returned with a guilty glare.

"What, brat?"

He knew the reason his father was afraid of telling him the truth!

His father, Lord Voldemort, The Dark Lord, was insecure.

Harry now understood, even dark lords have insecurities and Harry knew he was too precious for his father to let go. He was his father's weakness.

"Just one more thing, father."

"What is it? I have work to do!"

"You know I'll stick to you no matter what, don't you? That no matter what happens, I'll never leave you?" Harry looked deep into his father's eyes. Sure, he couldn't read his father's mind but there was a spark of some sort when he asked his father the question.

"Your silly, childish questions are wasting my time."

"Father?"
"What?" Voldemort roared with annoyance while Harry still had his gentle smile plastered to his face.

"I'll never leave you." Harry saw his father blush and held down a satisfied smirk. "And I know you'll never leave me too."

"Get out of here, you brat."Harry bowed and turned to leave the room but stopped when his father called out to him again. "Harry?"

"Yes, father?"

"Don't you ever doubt it."

Harry smiled to himself and left the room without another word.


A/N: WOOOOOOO! I finished the chapter! are you guys happy with it? sorry for uploading it so many times! i'm just trying to perfect it!

well, Harry's a computer geek but geeks can be cool too you know! It's just a little reminder that Harry's mind works much like a microchip and like a machine. AWAIT THE NEXT CHAPTER, MY FAITHFUL READERS!

ANYWAYS! THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO ALL MY GEEKY, NERDY FRIENDS OUT THERE WHO LOVE COMPUTER STUDIES SO MUCH THEY'D TAKE A DEGREE IN IT.

LOVELOVELOVE, me.