Hello guys! That's my first story in English so please; if something is terrible wrong, tell me! XD~

J. owns all characters

In this story:

Voldemort doesn't exist, Tom Riddle is younger, and deputy headmaster of Durmstrang.

Therefore the Potters are alive and have twins. The whole war thing is mostly a political thing.

He felt miserable. It was cold and the rain didn't really help to feel better.

His small frame shivered after a gust of wind reached him.

Longing, he looked back to the house. His parents had shoved him out. Again.

All because his brother had thought it would be funny to tell them that he had seen how he was steeling some food from the bin.

It's disgusting, yes, but he was so hungry! You wouldn't know that Dave and he were twins.

Dave Potter was the size of a little wale. With short messy auburn hair and brown eyes, he was the perfect mix between their parents. Harry, on the other side, didn't really look like he belongs to this family. He had long, light curled dark hair, forest green eyes, not like the emeralds from his mother, and at the first look you could think he was a vampire.

Maybe his look was the reason why his parents didn't love him? Treated him like a slave and a whore? He hadn't even a godfather. The two best friends of his dad, Remus and Sirius, were both the godfathers of Dave. Harry didn't even know if they remembered that he existed.

Thanks to James, most of the time he was locked in the dungeons of the Potter-Manor. He could only get out to help the house elves, being punished for whatever he did and to solve his weekly business in a muggle whorehouse. James called that 'earn his keeping'. Harry snored. Had Dave ever earn his keeping? At his size it must be a fortune! And it wasn't as if the Potters were poor. They were part of the wealthiest magical nobility! After the birth of the twins 7 years ago, it seemed like their luck was complete. But then, from one day to another, it changed. Now they only had one child, sweet Dave.

The loud bang of the backdoor disturbed his thoughts.

"Boy, get in here! You'll work tomorrow and we don't need you being sick!" James angry voice reached him at his secret spot near the lake. As fast as possible, he hasted to the door.

"Be glad I let you in, freak. Could've let you out all night." Roughly James led Harry to the old entrance to the dungeon.

"Be ready tomorrow at 7 p.m.! And don't dare to let me wait!" With that he close the door, doesn't caring for a response, or that he nearly shoved Harry down the stairs.

Great. At least he had now the chance to dry down and sleep some hours.

Harry was really glad the Potters had such a great dislike for the dungeon. If they had kown what a paradise of secret rooms and passages it was, they would relocate him as fast as possible.

But he would not let them take the last happiness he had in his live!

Only 4 more years and he might have the chance to go to Hogwarts. He doubted his parents would allow him to go to Durmstrang, his favourite school. No, it had to be a clear, muggle-contaminated, light school. And an absolute failure in proper education. They only taught the necessary subjects and rejected the important thinks like traditions, customs and a healthy balance of dark and light magic. There wasn't anything bad about dark magic. It's only the kind of use that marked a person as bad. Dark wizards could be healers like light wizards. And light wizards could be murderers, like every other person.

And his parents were a perfect example for light wizards having gone bad. Really, it's a shame that all the people believed in bloody Dumbledore. The perfect lord of the light!

He really wished he could contact the deputy headmaster of Durmstrang, Tom Riddle. Maybe he had a solution for his problem. Harry truly adored this man. He was young, only 21, charismatic and had mostly the same opinions as he.

Deep in his thoughts, Harry went in his small bathroom to take a shower and change his clothes, hand-me-downs from Dave.

Maybe tomorrow after work, if he behaved like a 'good little boy', he might have the chance to sneak in the owlery and write him. It would be his 5th try, but he didn't give up.

The last 4 owls had never came back, he thought they might be dead or gone lost.

Now, it would be the best to sleep as much he could.

His bedroom was small and not as fancy as the other rooms in potter-manor, but he liked it. He laid down in his bed, curled into a small ball and tried to catch as much warmth as he could get from the thin blanket.

-Elsewhere in Romania-

Musing, Tom Riddle was staring at the 4 letters in front of him, on his desk. Until yesterday he wasn't able to solve the annoying disruption of his wards. For one month some owls were trying to get trough the wards. They were really stubborn, but the letters were enough for not being angry with them.

They were all from a boy called Harry Potter. He didn't even know that another Potter-boy existed. Nobody did. He had done some researches in some papers, but they only talked about 3 Potters. And the content of the letters didn't let him feel better. It seemed little Harry was the last of this noble house who was aware of the real art of magic. The balance between all kinds of magic.

Maybe should he visit him? Headmaster Karakoff wouldn't mind allowing a student younger than 11. They had some of them by the way. And some of their students were staying here the whole year because of family issues or because they were orphans.

It's nearly the end of the summer-holidays, so he should hurry if he wanted to enrol the boy to Durmstrang.

Tomorrow might be a good day to remind the Potters that they have actually a second son instead of the spoiled Dave. Yes, that's a perfect plan, since tomorrow was the 31 July and the 8th birthday of the twins. Tom grinned evilly.

That would open the opportunity to destroy a little bit of their fame-clouded minds and lead them in discredit through the papers.

But now, he needs to prepare for this little show. He didn't want some annoying surprises in the middle of all that fun! Well, fun for him. He had to admit that he was a little angry, too. The apparently non-existence of Harry Potter didn't look good. Best thing was that they only ignored the child; worst thing could be that they abuse the boy. And that's a crime Tom wasn't fond of.

Hate flashed in his eyes as he remembered his own loveless childhood.

They would pay if they had ever laid a hand on Harry.