A/N: Okay people, I know this chapter might look the same, but I assure you there are changes. This story will be completely different than the original, and hopefully I'll be able to finish this one, as it is my favorite plot so far. If you're transferring over from the original Realm of Darkness, just delete everything you once knew about that story.

That being said, let's kick this new story off with hopes that it'll go a lot smoother!!!

Disclaimer: If I so much as owned a page of any one of the Harry Potter books, I'd be richer than I am now, and since I'm writing this disclaimer, the obvious conclusion is that I do not own anything. Have a nice day!


October 31, 1981. Halloween, or more precisely, All Hollow's Eve. Usually it was a holiday filled with cheer, albeit a more solemn, toned down cheer than Christmas cheer, but nevertheless, still cheery.

Unless of course you were Tom Marvolo Riddle.

He was angry, infuriated, and at the same time, he was scared; frightened to the point where he looked down at the faithful Death Eater who had delivered the news, and promptly killed him.

He dismissed the rest of his followers, he had business to attend to, business that was either going to kill him, or put him that much closer to immortality.

In recent months, the Potter brat had been born, but so had the Longbottom boy, both of whom could be candidates to the prophecy.

Keyword: could.

Potter of course, was going to be the target. He was after all, just like Riddle.

Well, he was a half-blood anyway, and Riddle knew that half-bloods always grew to be more powerful than purebloods. It was all that interbreeding the Purebloods had gone about several generations ago.

Yes, he'd heard about that stupid prophecy, Severus had told him.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born as the seventh month dies…"

He hadn't believed it at first, but now…

Let's just say that now everything seemed more real, the threat of some little bastard being born with the power to kill him…it sent a chill down his spine.

Fortunately, he had one advantage. The Potter's thought that they were protected by the Fidelius Charm, and they would have been, had they not made the fatal mistake of switching Secret Keepers.

Riddle remembered the day Peter Pettigrew, who was probably his most pathetic servant, had come running through the great oak doors of his chambers, an excited look on his face.

The man seemed to realize what he'd done and had the good sense to immediately bow down and beg his master's forgiveness.

Riddle had not been impressed by Wormtail's groveling. So he had cursed him using the Cruciatus curse, his personal favorite of the Unforgivables.

After a good half a minute of agony filled screams, Riddle had stopped, and calmly asked Pettigrew why he'd been compelled to burst into his chambers.

After a few stuttered beginnings, Pettigrew told him.

Sirius Black had convinced the Potters to switch Secret Keepers. He'd convinced them that nobody would think to go after him, Peter, because they would figure that he was too weak.

He said that they'd taken up residence in Godric's Hallow, and were prepared to weather the storm.

Coming out of his reverie, Riddle smirked, feeling something akin to pity for the Potter's. They felt they'd made an intelligent move by switching to their pathetic friend, when in reality; they'd just signed their death warrants.

He laughed a cold, malicious laugh. He knew what it felt like to have everything blow up in his face, but now, now it was time to pass that misfortune on to others.

Hell that was why he'd gone dark.

He'd wanted to show everybody suffering, wanted to show them destruction…wanted to show them chaos.

Pulling his cloak of the wooden hook it was perched on, he flung it over his shoulders. Silently, he pulled open the doors of the hideout and was met with darkness.

Grinning manically, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named turned sharply and, with a small pop, the terror that had plagued Wizarding England for years disappeared.

Lord Voldemort was on the move.

OoOoOoOoOoOOOooO

It had been a rather hectic day for one James Potter. An exhausted and angry wife and continually crying son would do that to a person.

However, when it was because of the latter that the former was in the mood she was, James couldn't help but chuckle.

Poor Lily had been run ragged trying to attend to the daily chores required in keeping a house habitable, and keeping their wailing son content.

Well, technically, Harry wasn't his son, but James didn't care. Lily and he hadn't exactly made peace until a few years after they had left Hogwarts. Apparently, during that time, she had met another man and well…done the deed.

When she had finally given James a chance and told him about her escapade with the mystery man, James was a little upset, but he'd not exactly been Mr. Abstinent so he could understand where she was coming from.

James of course, being the fine, upstanding gentlemen that he was, had accepted baby Harry when he'd come into the world and cared for him as though he were his own.

And now, he was attempting to help his stressed wife around the house, seeing as she was busy with Harry. He just hoped that he was doing things right.

But, as is common knowledge, the male's definition of right was utterly and completely different than the female's fine tuned and precise interpretation of the word.

He'd done the laundry. He'd done it wrong.

He'd folded the laundry. He'd done it wrong.

He'd separated and put the laundry away. He'd separated and put the laundry away wrong.

It was at that point that he'd given up on the laundry, and had moved to cleaning the house.

He'd promptly failed at that as well.

So from cleaning, he tried his hand at dishwashing. Apparently, he'd mucked that up as well.

It was then and ONLY then, that the desperate man in James Potter made a last ditch attempt effort to help his wife, and he'd cooked.

James sighed.

The kitchen would never be the same again.

It had occurred to him, finally, that he could use magic. He could've used magic the whole time. That's what that bloody piece of wood in his back pocket was for anyway right?

He'd cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner. He'd pointed his wand at the ill-fated salad in front of him and spoken a spell.

After getting over what Lily had dubbed, the "Big-Bang" incident, she had convinced her husband to just sit down and shut up, she'd take care of it.

And she did.

She separated the laundry while cleaning the house. She cleaned the house while cooking dinner. She'd cooked dinner while cooing sweet nothings into Harry's ear, calming him. She'd cooed sweet nothings into Harry's ear, while shooting a relieved smile at James.

Just looking at his wife, completely exhausted and yet smiling at him, caused James to laugh.

It was a chuckle at first, a chuckle that soon turned into outright laughter. His laughter was contagious because soon Lily was laughing uncontrollably as well.

They stopped after awhile, both of them relieved and content for now.

"James, go wash up, dinner's almost ready."

Getting up, James walked over to his wife, who held Harry in her arms, and gently kissed her.

It was a lingering, loving kiss, a kiss that promised more later.

He pulled away, "I love you Lils."

Smiling, he turned and headed toward the bathroom to wash up. It had been awhile since he'd seen his wife let loose and laugh. Granted, there was a psychotic Dark Lord after them, but for some reason, ever since Lily had come back from the States she had been reticent to show too much happiness.

She did try to hide it, and she was very, very good at it, but James, having been an avid observer of his wife back in school, knew when she was forcing it. But that was not to say that she showed no emotion at all. Indeed she showed a great deal of emotion, to him of course, but also to Harry, her pride and joy.

As he was finishing up, his thought turned to more annoying matters.

Voldemort.

He hated the Dark Lord with every fiber of his being. It was because of him that he, Lily, and Harry were stuck hiding at Godric's Hollow, protected under the Fidelius Charm.

And that damned Prophecy!

"…Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives…"

James growled in frustration.

His son, step-son anyway, barely three months old, was forced to be either murderer or victim. And there was no way out of it.

James was so frustrated that he didn't notice the bar of soap crumbling under his grip.

At least they were safe for the time being. None of his friends would betray him. And with Sirius making the brilliant switch of Secret Keeper to Peter, Voldemort would never find them.

They would have time to prepare Harry, to ease him into the hell he was bound to meet head on.

Sirius had saved them so much pain.

Thinking about his best friend, James recalled the conversation concerning the Secret Keeper a couple of weeks earlier.

Sirius had come to their cottage at Godric's Hollow, positively ecstatic with glee. James had asked him what he was so giddy about.

Sirius had told him.

He had the perfect plan he said. They should switch Secret Keepers, instead of him, it should be Peter. Nobody would suspect Peter; he was a bumbling, clumsy, and weak man. The idea that anybody would suspect him was inconceivable.

But he himself, everybody would suspect. They'd go after him, surely, and try to get it out of him.

And he'd have a nasty surprise in store for them. He wouldn't be the Secret Keeper, and it would send anyone off on a wild goose chase.

Nobody he'd put emphasis on the word, would ever suspect Peter Pettigrew.

Again James sighed, he felt a bit uneasy. Peter had been growing a bit distant as of late, and he seemed…different.

But no matter what, James trusted his old friend with his life. However, that little feeling of unease had grown in him, and he'd made an unregistered port key out of a picture of the three of them; Lily, Harry, and himself.

It was in their bedroom and when activated it would take the user to the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. The activation phrase was "Back Again." That was all it took.

Drying his hands on a nearby towel, James exited the bathroom and glanced out the window into the night.

"James! Dinner!" Lily called.

"Com…" a brief flash, barely there, caught his eye.

He saw the tell-tale swish of a cloak, and two blood red eyes starting right back at him.

Voldemort.

"LILY!" James shouted, "Lily it's him! He's here! Take Harry, get the port key! Run!"

Lily burst into the living room, Harry clutched to her chest.

"What? James…how?"

James growled, "Peter."

Lily grabbed his hand, "James, come on, let's go, we can all go together right now!"

James shook his head, "I can't Lily, he'll just find us again. Go! Take Harry!"

Tears were streaking down her face, "No James! Come on! Let's leave!"

James met his wife's terrified face, "Lillian Grace Potter, take our son and get that port key while there's still time! NOW."

"James!" Lily threw herself into his arms, being mindful of Harry in hers.

"I know Lils, I'm sorry."

Gently, he lifted her chin up, making her look at him.

"I love you Lillian Grace Potter, for always and ever."

She smiled, "And I love you James Ryan Potter, for always and ever."

They kissed. The kiss expressed more than they could ever say in words.

Hope, agony, pain…love. All bundled in that one, short kiss.

James looked at his wife, "Now GO."

She did.

At that moment the door flew open admitting a cloaked figure, all in black. But James could see the red eyes. Those eerie red eyes that made chills run up and down his spine.

"Ah James, how good of you to a…greet me." It was then the red eyes saw Lily running. "Uh, uh, uh. You won't be getting away that easily. Pulsat!"

"Protego!" The shield spell deflecting the other into the kitchen wall, razing it completely.

"Well, seeing as I'm in a rush, I'll just stun you…and

leave you to wake up to a nightmare! Stupefy!" Voldemort yelled.

"Protego!" But James had spent most of his energy casting the spell that had just spared his wife and son.

The Dark Lord's curse easily broke through it.

James Potter fell motionless to the floor.

"Hmph, pathetic whelp." Silently, the Dark Lord pursued the mother and child.


Lily was in a panic trying to remember what the words were to activate the port key.

"What were they? Oh damn, damn, damn!" She cursed out loud.

"Tisk, tisk, tisk Mrs. Potter," sneered a cold voice from the door, "It's not proper for a lady to swear. No not at all."

Lily spun around, dropping the port key in fright.

"No!" She half whispered, half shouted, realizing what must have happened to her husband.

"Yes my dear, yes. He's dead." Lied Voldemort gleefully, "But do not worry, you will be joining him soon. First however, the boy! Accio!"

Lily tightened her grip on her son as she felt the tug of the spell.

"No! Please not Harry! Take me, kill me instead! Not Harry!"

Voldemort sneered, "All in good time my dear, all in good time. Now, stand aside you silly girl! Petrificus Totalus!"

Lily felt her body go into extended rigor mortis, forcing her to watch in horror as the evil being before her levitated her child into midair.

"And now," began Voldemort, "I eliminate the only obstacle in my path to immortality. The Chosen One indeed. Avada Kedavra!"


James came to only to be assaulted by the stench of burning wood. Quickly taking in his surrounding, he recognized their cottage.

It was on fire!

Then he remembered.

Voldemort!

He'd dueled briefly with James- he, James, had deflected a curse into the kitchen wall- that must've caused the fire.

"Lily, Harry! Oh, Merlin please…." He jumped to his feet, ignoring the screaming protests of his muscles, and bolted to their bedroom.

He caught the last words of Voldemort.

"…And now, I eliminate the only obstacle in my path to immortality."

That was all he needed to hear. He turned the corner and saw Lily, obviously immobilized, and Harry, floating in midair.

"Chosen One indeed."

James ran, his footsteps covered by the bursting of a window from too much pressure.

"Avada Kedavra!"

As the jet of green light shot towards Harry, James launched himself in front of his son, taking the curse straight in the chest.

James Potter fell to the floor motionless once again. This time however, he was not getting up.

The Dark Lord merely quirked an eyebrow, "Well, that was unexpected." He shrugged, "No matter."

His sinister gaze went to Lily, "Well my dear, it seems that you're alone yet again. Your dear baby boy will perish before you, just as your husband before him."

But through sheer force of will, Lily broke the Dark Lord's spell, and ran towards her son, Portkey in hand.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The curse struck Lily as she was in mid stride, sending her body flying like a rag doll over the bed and the Portkey tumbling uselessly to the floor, right in front of baby Harry.

Smirking, Voldemort clicked his tongue, "A shame really, my dear boy," he spoke, turning towards the infant now crying his eyes out, "I really was looking forward to being able to torment one of your parents for the rest of their lives. But it seems as though I'll only get one wish tonight."

He laughed a high-pitched, cold laugh, before he pointed his wand at Harry's forehead,

"Now sweet child, this is the day the world will always remember as the day that Lord Voldemort became immortal," one last malicious grin graced his features as the babe stared straight into his eyes, and then, "Avada Kedavra!"

But something had gone wrong.

What was it? What could it have been? Why would anything go wrong when the Dark Lord was so close to reaching his immortality? How could anything go wrong?

Tom Riddle would only find out what had caused his temporary downfall fourteen years later, when he was brought back from the brink of death, for he could not die, at least not completely, while his Horcruxes were still intact.

And that did not sit well with the Lord of the Underworld.


A/N: And that's the new chapter 1!! I know, not too much has changed, except for the fact that Harry was not the product of James' happy times. Anyway, feedback is really helpful, and I would appreciate any critiques as I'm in the habit of being ripped a new one by my AP English teacher. Therefore, anything I write has flaws, and everything that is flawed must die.

Thanks for reading this one, and I hope you'll stick with me for the next chapter! I would advise you to put this thing on Story Alert because my update times will be rather erratic as I won't be able to devote myself on a weekly basis to updating, unless of course you want the crap versions of chapters.

-HakushoRurouni