Hey, everyone.

Firstly, I would like to stress that I am not stealing this fic. I enjoyed the original by Quatreastrophe, and when I heard it was discontinued, I sent a message asking if I could take over. Quatreastrophe answered in the affirmative, and here is one of the emails sent to me.

Sorry I didn't get back to you a little bit sooner. (College finals next
week. Yay.) But anyways, yeah, that'd be perfectly fine if you wanted to
take over "Invisibly Jaded." I think I wrote it on my profile too, but I
have some partially edited/rewritten versions of chapters one through eight as
well as a partial chapter nine. If you want, I can try and send those to you
via email attachment (Microsoft word), and you can choose if you want to keep
some things or just throw it out. It's been a while, but I don't think I
completely liked what I had in the ninth chapter, and it may not make much
sense to anyone else either. Unfortunately, my notes for the story are a
jumbled mess of handwritten garbage, and some pieces I think got thrown away
in the Great RoomCleaning of March 2008. I can, however, either type up a bit
of what I have, (I have a rough timeline of backstory things that probably
would have been revealed later, and I think a little on why Harry's powers
are leaving) or you can just make up stuff based on your own ideas. Please
get back to me on any of that. Also, whenever you start posting up a new
chapter, I can put a notice in my story to direct people to it. Right now
there are 1615 people that still have it on their story alert.

And there's my proof. So, the first eight chapters will be slightly altered and edited, and from then on out, it'll be all original, but I will be following some plans Quatreastrophe asked of me to use. So, I suppose, my plans for the story will begin around chapter twelve or thirteen.

Finally, Harry, not acting like a warrior.

This was always an issue, that a lot of people thought Harry didn't have the correct mindset to be a warrior. Quatreastrophe told me to address this issue when I mentioned some aspects of the fic would be darker, and let me tell you all something:

Harry has been trained to be a warrior. He has never actually had a real fight. He's spent eleven years on the isles, and eight years of those training. Never once has he actually killed someone. He's a rookie, he lacks experience.

My continuation will address that. Originally, he is sometimes too confident in his abilities, and hence acts more aggressive than the original, but as time goes on, he will mature, becoming more powerful- and more importantly, knowing when to use it, and even more importantly, knowing how to use it fully.

Funny, I don't follow any of those important moral issues, but, hey.

Finally, the story will be rather easy-going, until we start getting to the good bits. Don't worry, they shouldn't be too long in coming...

So, here it is, Chapter 1, edited.

Chapter I- A Great Mistake

The grandfather clock struck eleven, and sounded eleven long notes, marking the hour. A soft ticking resumed as the last sound faded into the night, and the pendulum continued swing on its eternal path, back and forth, back and forth. The house was deathly still, silent. None of the house's inhabitants made a sound, all comfortable in their dreams. No, no sounds at all, but the empty air was warning them as well as it could. The calm before the storm.

Loud cracks sounded outside the house, and several cloaked figures appeared, literally out of thin air. They awaited one more, their master, as they waited, their uniforms billowing in the autumn breeze.

The master appeared, his head covered with a hood rather than the white masks worn by his minions. The white masks of the Death Eaters.

From the shadows of his hood, a mouth curled into a malicious grin, thus increasing the fear that this man, or monster created in the hearts of man and beast alike.

"Tonight, my loyal servants. Tonight...is the end. The end of all opposition to us. And tomorrow, a new day will rise, a day which shall always be ours, as none will stand in my way! None!" The master broke into gleeful laughter, before resuming. "Not even the muggle-lover fool Dumbledore will not stop me! And so, after tonight, my reign will be supreme, an eternal reign, that will stamp out all blood-traitors, Mudbloods and Muggle filth..."

The master trailed off, enamoured in his daydream, before he continued. "Tonight, the Potter family shall be removed from the land of the living."

A pale cold hand pulled back the black hood, revealing a face that had struck terror into the hearts of even the bravest of men, a face that had been the last sight to many in their dying moments, a face of a man that was once a handsome prodigy, now a twisted maniac. The Dark Lord Voldemort was on the hunt tonight.

The instant the Death Eaters crossed the property line, they triggered an alarm ward, causing a shrieking noise to start reverberating through the house, waking all residents.

James and Lily Potter jumped from their bed, knowing immediately what had happened. Peter, Peter, their friend, their old schoolmate...had betrayed them, and now the Death Eaters were here, to kill them and their children. The two grabbed their wands –James staying a little longer to grab his glasses- and rushed from their bedroom, determined to protect their children at whatever cost.

A swift descent down the stairs ended as they came upon their attackers. A barrage of deadly curses shot across the dining room at the married couple, still in their sleepwear, battled their intruders.

In the back of their minds, they noted that the Death Eater group was rather small, only six. But distracted, they easily quashed those thoughts and went back to their fight, and neither noticed one figure sneak out of the room, leaving the Death Eaters on their own.

Voldemort easily found the right door to his prey- magic acting as his guide- and blew it down. From within a shared cot, two almost identical boys stared at him, one from piercing, almost unnatural emerald eyes, the other with deeper, softer brown eyes. Jet-black hair that already looked like it would become just like their father's was tousled on the heads of the fifteen month old twins, the Potter twins, the twins that had been plaguing his mind for over a year.

One was apparently destined to be his undoing. So, before they had a chance to grow powerful enough to destroy him, he would destroy them first. After all, he did not know which one was the one he needed to eliminate, but then again, the life of an infant would not weigh heavily on a man with no conscious. However, it could be neither of the two boys, but that was why he already had a plan to take care of the Longbottom boy after this particular mission. After all, taking chances meant taking risks.

He raised his wand, and the screams and shouts of the battle in another part of the house seemed to fade as he focused entirely on the huddled infants, and he allowed his hate to fill himself up completely as he prepared a spell like no other. He pulled his arm back...and flung it forward, screaming two feared words to all wizards, unleashing all his hate and a torrent of magic.


It was almost as if time went into slow motion. The sickly green of the curse burst from his wand and shot at the young twins. The curse of death's velocity increased as it travelled towards innocent victims. It struck...and for a moment, time seemed to froze.

One of the boys pushed his twin down, protecting him with his body. The Killing Curse struck his forehead.

The Avada Kedavra killed with no mark. Then why had a cut appeared on the boy's forehead, in the shape of a bolt of lightning?

The bleeding wound almost seemed to crackle with green energy, and the child, still alive, looked straight at his intended killer, green eyes almost glowing with power.

And suddenly, a pulse of magic flung itself from the cut, turning back the Killing Curse on the caster, who had been watching stunned at the events, and he froze in shock and fear, before the curse struck his body.

The spirit was ejected, and the empty body crumpled and disappeared into ashes.

The wild pulse of magic, and the remnants of the failing killing curse, smashed themselves at the walls, and the room began to shake.

Chunks of the ceiling fell away, as what was left of the magic ignited the wall.

The emerald-eyed boy collapsed, exhausted, as his wound bled. The other pulled himself free, only to scrape the skin on his palm on some rubble, before crying himself to a deep sleep.

Dark magic burst through the room, continuing its wave of destruction.

The unconscious twins lay there, awaiting their saviour.

"Lost a lot of blood..."

"They'll be okay..."



A five-year-old Harry Potter yawned and slowly rose from his sleep, his thoughts still on his strange dream. He still didn't know what it meant, but he was sure it must have been a memory from somewhere, probably from the hospital when he was little over a year old. Probably a few snatches of the conversation he'd heard at St. Mungos after his twin brother Hayden had somehow got rid of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Another dream he often had was of a voice screaming two words he couldn't quite make out, before there was a bright green flash.

Harry climbed out of bed and left his room, closing the door quietly behind him. He glanced across the hallway, looking at the door that was the gateway to the room that belonged to his esteemed brother.

No noises emitting from the room. Clearly, his brother was already out and about.

The door was decorated with all kinds of papers, Spellotaped on, many of which had stick-men drawing, and scribbles and wobbly lettering spelling out 'Hayden.' The sight of it just reminded Harry of his own blank door. He could have decorated it if he really wanted to, but he simply didn't want to draw any attention to himself.

As much as it was out of five-year-old nature to do so, Harry had decided that it was often best for him to not draw attention to himself, and thus, stay invisible.

There was nothing else Harry hated then when the family went out in public and someone would mistake him for Hayden. The disappointed or sometimes even, disapproving gazes he received when they realised he was just Harry, not Hayden, the vanquisher of Voldemort, haunted Harry. They destroyed what little self-esteem he had, making him feel so...useless, helpless, that he should have done more when Voldemort attacked.

Not that he could even remember what happened, being only fifteen months at the time.

James Potter strode down the staircase towards the wonderful aroma of breakfast his wife was cooking. And, as he regularly did, he admired the framed newspaper cut-outs that lined the staircase walls.


Hayden Potter saves us all!


The True Story of the Fated Night!

Those were merely some of the many articles dictating the events of that night, when Voldemort was defeated at the hands of his son...or more precisely, defeated at the hand of his son. Hayden was discovered with bloody marks on his right hand, and investigators had figured he used some form of powerful wandless magic, and forcing the magic through the hand of a body still not used to such, caused the bleeding wound.

His other son, Harry, had an unusually shaped scar on his head, but the investigators passed it off as an injury due to falling debris, since Hayden also received a bruise on his head from a chunk of plaster.

"Mornin', Daddy!"

James had wandered into the kitchen to be greeted by the very boy he had been thinking about.

"Well, hello there, birthday boy!" James greeted cheerfully, lifting the boy into his arms. "Ready for the big day! Five, big year you know. Halfway there to being ten!"

Hayden grinned with such a smile that it looked like his face would split. "Yup! Mummy says we can have cake and ice cream and balloons and presents! Lots of presents! An' a big party with lots and lots of people, like Moony and Padfooty!"

"Later, Hayden dear. Sit back down and finish your breakfast," Lily said, still busy trying to feed the only daughter of the Potter Family, the two-year-old Oriana. Hayden started squirming and wriggling in his father's arms, until James let him loose and set him down gently on the ground.

Finally, the hinges on the kitchen door squeaked quietly as the last Potter entered, discreet as possible. He didn't want to do anything to ruin Hayden's birthday. It was his too, obviously, but that didn't matter.

Harry knew he wasn't the important one, so it was okay if he got just a normal party with a normal amount of gifts. He didn't really want the load of presents that witches and wizards from all corners of Great Britain would bring to his brother.

He had only made two requests, a Golden Snitch – it didn't even have to be a real one, even a practise one would do fine- and maybe a broom. It didn't even have to be fancy, just something he could fly, even if it was just twenty feet above the ground. Hayden had asked for a Quaffle, seeming to be more of a Chaser when it came to Quidditch.

Harry grabbed a plate and took a few slices of toast and a glass of orange juice before retreating back to his room to pass the hours till the party began. Awkwardly, he shifted the glass into the crook of his elbow so he could twist the doorknob and push the door open. Placing the plate on the bedside table, Harry propped himself against the pillows, taking a book which he had still not finished reading.

A few hours later, Harry finished the book. After carefully putting it aside, he decided he'd go to the party, since he'd heard the telltale sounds of laughter, music and lively chatter start not too long ago.

After changing out of his nightwear, Harry stared in awe as he reached the main floor. Banners were hung from the ceiling or attached to the walls, announcing 'Happy Birthday.' Balloons of red and gold littered the place, and a huge birthday cake was on a table at the side of the room displaying a simple 'Happy 5th Birthday!' in scarlet icing.

As Harry marvelled at the decorations, an unfamiliar man approached him.

"Well, hello there Hay-rry." The man stopped himself as he saw the piercing emerald eyes and lightning bolt scar. He blinked a few times, but kept a straight face and strutted across the room, having noticed Harry's brother.

Harry lowered his head, and walked into a dark corner, hoping no one else would mistake him for Hayden.

Contrary to what some might say, Harry was not even remotely envious of his twin. Hayden was actually pretty nice, and the two often played together for long hours. Hayden could have the fame, the attention, and the gifts. Harry didn't care what Hayden had, as long as he knew his mum and dad cared for him as well, and didn't forget about him...but he still wanted a Snitch.

Harry continued watching people from his corner. Occasionally, he would see Hayden showing people his famous scar. The scar itself was relatively thick, white, and covered a good portion of his right palm in a rough, circular shape.

Whenever Harry saw the scar, he would only ever think it must have been pretty painful to have all that skin ripped away. Some had even told Harry he was lucky to get away with only a cut on the forehead.

As the temperature increased- being July 31st, the party eventually shifted outdoors, where Harry took refuge hiding under a table, masked by a decorative tablecloth. He was content to watch people's shoes and robe hems as different groups chatted around the snacks and punch bowl located on the table above him.

"-this is a great party. Hayden even shook my hand! Can't wait to tell the guys at work that I, not only go to meet, but actually got to touch his scar! Manny's going to be so jealous- guy's wanted to meet the kid for ages! And Marie...heheh, can't wait to see her reaction!"

"Yeah, same here Al. Think the crazy woman's already got a wedding dress picked out. I mean for the love of Merlin, the kid's only five! She'll be forty by the time he's old enough!"

"Yep, she's a weirdo at that."

"Or she likes her ones young..."

The two burst out laughing, as another man approached.

"'Ere, has anyone seen the other Potter kid? ...what's his name...Harry? Got a little something for him too, but could only find Hayden's present pile..."

"Harry?...nah. Haven't seen 'im, mate. Ask the parents...they're by the cake table with Hayden."

Harry crawled forwards a little to get a look at the man who had actually brought him a present. He couldn't see the man's face though, just a dark blue robe and a bag of various sweets. Harry started to smile, but quickly covered his mouth as a cloud of pipe smoke drifted over to his table and threatened to make him cough. Try as he might, Harry could not stop his body's reaction to the smoke, and let out several harsh, barking coughs.

"What the-" The present-bearing man spoke up again.

Harry could not stop coughing as the smoke lingered in the windless air. The tablecloth was lifted, and the group of men peered under it. Two stood up quickly and looked across the garden to verify Hayden was still with his parents, before going back to observing Harry.

"Ah, you must be Harry!" The man with the present said. He outstretched a hand under the table and helped pull Harry out and onto his feet. He handed over a bag of sweets, tied at the top with shining ribbons.

Harry stopped coughing as a breeze blew the smoke away, and the man spoke up again.

"Happy birthday Harry!"

Harry smiled at the sweets, then up at the man. He hadn't expected this! Someone remembered him! They remembered it was his birthday too!

"Hey, could you introduce me to that brother of yours?" The man asked.

The question was asked innocently enough, but Harry's smile fell as he caught on. He was being...used. Instantly, he gave the bag of sweets back to the man. "I'm not allowed to take sweets from strangers." He waited, before continuing. "Hayden's over there," Harry pointed dully.

As the man instantly turned, Harry slipped away from the group, head lowered, salty tears threatening to spill from his eyes. How did he allow his hopes to rise? These people didn't care. No one cared. He was Harry. Just Harry. A nobody.

A whistle sounded across the garden, and everyone's attention was drawn to Lily Potter as she removed her fingers from her lips, satisfied everyone was paying attention.

James –standing next her- began speaking. "Okay everyone, present time! Gather round, gather round...yes, thank you..."

Harry sighed as heard the announcement. He withdrew from his passing time activity of pulling grass from the lawn, and he walked to the cake table to join the rest of his family, and open his share of presents. He still hoped he had a snitch...he really hoped.

"Now we're all set, Sirius? Remus? If you two would, let's get started!"

Sirius took a deep, extravagant bow and reached for the first present. His blue eyes sparkled brightly, with an air of mischief, so very unlike the haunted look they had taken temporarily four years ago. After the attack, James and Lily had been recovering from injuries. While they recuperated in St. Mungos, Sirius had been accused of betraying the couple and murdering several Muggles when he confronted Pettigrew. With all the confusion, it had taken a week for James and Lily to receive news of the situation. He had been released from Azkaban straight after they testified to his innocence, and a search was started for Peter Pettigrew. For a few months after that, Sirius hadn't been the happiest of people though. Dementors were not pleasant to be around with for a few seconds, let alone days.

Sirius looked at the label. "Aaaaand, here's one for Hayden!" He cheerfully announced, placing the colourfully wrapped box in front of the five-year-old.

Sirius and Remus took turns passing presents over.

Hayden...Hayden...Hayden...Hayden...It went on and on, but Harry didn't care. The presents on top of the pile were just from the guests, many attending just to meet the Boy-Who-Lived. The presents for him, from his family and the people he knew, would be at the bottom, since they had been put there before the guests arrived.

Hayden...Hayden... "Harry!"

Harry's head shot up as Sirius placed a present in front of him. Unwrapping the package with the precision of a surgeon- causing the impatient Sirius to roll his eyes- Harry got to the gift. It was a box of Chocolate Frogs with an envelope taped to it. Harry opened the envelope to find a gift certificate for a Muggle Bookshop. Harry smiled happily at the audience, and saw Remus nod his head in acknowledgement. Harry couldn't wait to get the next book in the children's fiction series, Encyclopaedia Brown. He always loved trying to solve the mystery before the end of each tale.


Harry's eyes searched the dwindling pile, looking for a small package that could hold his Snitch. The broom didn't matter; the ones his dad already had worked just fine. After all, he had to get the Snitch. They weren't that expensive, and he had only asked for two things. So far, apart from Remus' gift, Harry had received a new pack of cards for Exploding Snap, Wizarding sweets, and some clothes. But Hayden had received pretty much all a child could ever dream of, and quite a few things a child wouldn't have thought of, due to his adoring public.

"This is a big one, eh Hayden! Wonder what it could be?" Sirius said, a knowing look in his eyes. After ripping the paper away, a wooden chest was revealed.

"Quidditch!" Hayden exclaimed happily, flinging open the lid to see a brand-new set of game balls. The Bludgers appeared to be made of a material similar to foam, but other than that, all was okay.

There was even a Snitch. Surely, surely, this had to be for both brothers. Surely they hadn't forgotten how much Harry enjoyed the game, especially Seeking. Surely they hadn't...

A piece of wrapping paper had fallen in front of Harry. The tag was stuck to it.

To: Hayden Potter.

Not Hayden and Harry, not the Potter Brothers, not even the Potter Twins. Just Hayden.

Harry looked back at the table, but the table was now empty, even the people had gone, seeing as the Quidditch set was the last present.

Harry was fine though. Fine. After all, Hayden was The Boy-Who-Lived. Harry was still just Harry. Just Harry. Just Harry. He repeated the phrase to himself, over and over again. Just Harry. Just Harry.

He had gotten some presents after all, and he knew some people didn't get any at all, or didn't even know when their birthdays were. He lived in a nice house, and had his own room, and had food every day. Some people didn't live in nice houses, or have food every day. He had plenty compared to some people, so Harry kept telling himself to stop being so selfish.

So what if he had only asked for two things, and got neither. So what if Hayden got a ridiculous amount of gifts, including one he wanted. One he really wanted, with all his heart.

But Harry was fine. He was fine, perfect, wonderful, not upset in the least. Just fine. Just Harry.

A wine glass nearby shattered.

Okay, maybe he was a little upset. ...Maybe be was a lot upset...maybe...maybe he was...

Harry heard Oriana giggle happily, as she, and everyone else, watched Hayden practice with the Snitch. Tears sprang to Harry's eyes.

He started backing away, but still, none noticed. He began to walk faster, until he reached the woods behind the house. Once he got to the edge, he ran.

Harry sprinted as fast as his small legs could carry him, his eyes eventually being blinded by the tears that were spilling over. Deeper, and deeper he ran, until he stumbled on a tree root an fell, grazing his elbow on a rock.

And Harry could take it no longer. He screamed, before breaking down in tears.

He was...forgotten.

So there you have it. Chapter One, originally by Quatreastrophe, edited by LightningHunter.

By the way, what is Encyclopaedia Brown? I don't even know if it's a real book or not...should have asked Quatreastrophe about that, I guess...