DISCLAIMER: I SAY THIS ONLY ONCE SO LISTEN UP! I do not own any of the characters, they belong TPTB. I'm merely borrowing them.

SUMMERY: Lord Voldemort goes to kill Harry Potter and ends up finding something unexpected. He ends up rescuing and healing Harry Potter and coming up with a plan to bring the Saviour of light to his side. Will he succeed?


Above the little village of Little Hangelton was a large property, the village had always many tales and stories about the Riddle Manor, murders always inspired gossips and rumours.

The extensive gardens looked completely different even after the gardener's strange death. A garden maze had been grown along one side of the long drive way up to the property which they had one day noticed and wondered why they hadn't noticed before. It was said some rich family lived up there now but they had seen no one come or go. The Manor seemed at least 3 times the size they could remember but maybe that was the memory playing tricks, maybe they had some building work done that made it seem that way though they couldn't remember any building.

The full moon's light shined through the window adding to the soft candlelight. The largest private quarters were at the front of the house to look over the land and down into the village below.

Painted in shades of green, creams and beige with dark floorboards, the private quarters were about the size of a luxury apartment but without the kitchen.

In the sitting area hidden unnoticed in the corner of the room there was a door to an up-to-date potions lab. In front of the large fireplace were black leather sofas, floor to ceiling shelves running along the largest wall. A desk sat sideways so the person who sat could see the doorway into the rooms and out the windows with their back to the wall.

Through an arched doorway led into the bedroom. There was a large four poster mahogany bed with a coat of arms carved into the headboard. Silk emerald green sheets and pillows covered the bed. Two doors led to a bathroom and walk-in dressing room.

A figure stood in dark robes. He had a tall slender build, pale skin, almost grey. He had cruel dark red snake-like eyes. Not a single inch of him was covered by a strand of hair due to the transformations he had gone through.

It had taken a year of planning but he had finally managed it.

His followers, his Death Eaters, were drained of magic and would be for the rest of the week having lent all their magic to him in the ceremony.

Voldemort felt bursting with power, he felt invincible.

Even the dithering muggle loving fool Dumbledore could not defeat him that night. But he would be surrounded by his precious Order and he did not have his followers to back him up and he knew it was unwise to strike without a well thought-out plan.

But there was one who was not so protected which had been the whole point of doing the ceremony though he had not told his followers this.

Harry Potter.

The one who had defeated him and escaped his grasp time and time again.

The one who had managed to kill him, managed to turn him into nothing but a mere shadow of himself. But the boy had also been instrumental in his rebirth.

Voldemort smirked evilly and drew his black cloak over his shoulders and threw up the hood. He then vanished from his private quarters.

He knew exactly where to go for unlike the Order this house was not protected by the Fidelius Charm.

Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Winging in Surrey.

He stood on the opposite side of the road looking at a normal house with a posh car outside and well tended neat front garden.

He crossed the road and smirked as he felt the wards let him in. With the boy's blood, thus the protection, flowing through his veins he could enter the ancient blood wards as if he was Harry Potter himself.

Foolish Dumbledore.

He paused to carefully examine the wards.

The other wards surrounding the house allowed those who did not mean harm could enter and recorded all magic that was used, clearly they did not trust their precious Golden Boy.

Luckily he could do simple wandless magic spells to get in since that couldn't be detected. He used his wand to put a bubble around his head before he proceeded further. He pointed a long finger to the door and the door opened with a quiet click.

He shut the door silently behind him as he uncorked a bottle and pale silvery gas escaped and floated from room to room throughout the house.

Voldemort looked at the photos that garnered the walls. An overweight man with a moustache, a tall stick-like woman with a rather long neck, and a grotesquely overweight boy. But there was no other sign that another boy lived there as well.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow at that oddity. If it weren't for the wards he would be concerned he had the wrong house. He had been told that the boy who lived was worshipped by his relatives and lived the life of luxury. It seems his source was blinded by bitterness and had clouded judgement where it concerned what he was seeking.

He added up the facts of what he'd seen but was still unsure of the answer, Voldemort made his way up the stairs.

There was the master bedroom where he could hear loud rumbling snores and another room where someone was snoring as well, and the guest bedroom was empty. But the room he was looking for was the smallest bedroom.

The door had a catflap at the bottom and a multitude of locks along the side of the door.

Voldemort glared at the locks on the door, they locked the boy up like a criminal? If the boy was treated like this why did he support the Light since they were the ones who put him there? Did the Light even realize how the boy was treated, did they care? With a flick of his hand the locks unlocked and he pushed open the door.

Though it was dark moonlight highlighted the room in places as it slithered through the clouds outside. Broken toys littered the shelves of a bookcase. A Owl cage next to a desk under the window. An old bed was pushed against the wall and on top of the thread bare old sheets was what he had come seeking.

Voldemort starred at the figure on the bed who like all the other occupants of the house was sound asleep because of the gas that still lingered in the air.

But the figure wasn't quite what he expected.

A young girl who looked to be the size of a first year, wearing overlarge boys sweats pants and shirt. But what held his attention was the beam of moonlight revealing a lightening bolt scar on the forehead. The scar zig-zagged up from the front of the left eyebrow and ended just before hairline, level with the front of right eyebrow.

Harry Potter had a scar exactly like that in that exact place.

Harry Potter was a boy.

But this was a GIRL!

HOPE YOU LIKE IT. I love doing Harry as a girl in different ways. I'm have an idea on the sequel already even though I haven't finished this yet.

The time frame is the summer holidays, July, before Harry's birthday. The idea is that this story will cover the summer holidays, so six weeks in up to 20 Chapters.