Disclaimer: I do not now nor have I ever owned Harry Potter in any shape or form. If I had, the travesty known as the Half-Blood Prince, or the book-that-shall-not-be-named that occurred after the aforementioned book would never have been given to the human race. You can blame them on JK Rowling.
In England, there resides a hidden world. The world of magic, cunningly hid from ordinary muggles who, because of the use of magic, are forced to disregard everything they see that is out of the ordinary. In a magical village known as Godric's Hollow, there resides an ancient family known as the Potters. This family had long been regarded as one of the most powerful magical families in England, always at the forefront of every magical battle, generally on the side of the light. This tradition had been repeated in the war that was already occurring against Lord Voldemort, one of the most powerful dark lords to have ever walked the Earth. A prophecy had recently been uttered that placed in danger both of the Potter twins, as well as a boy known as Neville Longbottom, a member of the noble House of Longbottom, which was nearly as distinguished as the Potters.
This prophecy spoke of someone who would come and be the equal of Lord Voldemort, and was the only one who could defeat the aforementioned Dark Lord. Due to the fact the only three candidates were children just over a year old, it was believed that these children would need to be hidden for their own protection and then later trained to meet their destiny. As such, both families, Longbottom and Potter, had hidden themselves with the use of the Fedelius Charm which hid the knowledge of a location in the mind of a person. This meant the only people who could remember where the place both families had hidden themselves in, would be those to whom the secret had been disclosed by the person in whom the knowledge of the location had been hidden, or the "Secret keeper."
It was Samhein, or Halloween as it was now known by most, when a malevolent, tall being, undeserving of the name human, walked down the streets of the village of Godric's Hollow. As it turned out, the Potters had put their trust in the wrong person. Unbeknownst to them, Peter Pettigrew had betrayed them. As such, the Potters were unprepared when their front door was blown apart. The being entered, his fear-inspiring aura already emanating from him as he fired curses at the man who stood in his way. Growling, Lord Voldemort cast the curse that would take James Potter out of the fight. Although an above average fighter and auror, there were few alive who could stand up to Voldemort, and James Potter was not one of them. As such, Voldemort decided to leave Potter alive so that he would be able to see the destruction of the country he loved. Smiling his devilish smile, Lord Voldemort headed up the stairs to where he sensed the mother of the twins was. Lily Potter née Evans was a charms mistress and an incredible duellist, leading to Voldemort making his way into the room she was in slowly, eyes scanning the shadows for any traps she had laid. Apparently she had placed to much faith in the cowardly Peter Pettigrew who had been a spy for him for over three years as there were no traps ready to trip him up.
In front of him was the closed door of the nursery in which his two targets and their protector hid. Voldemort snarled and sent the door flying back, only for it to be sent back at him. With a gesture of his wand the door disappeared to reveal a blue spell flying at him. Recognising the bone breaker, Voldemort side-stepped before sending spells back in kind, before entering. He was at an advantage, he had no limit to the spells he could use, whereas the redhead in front of him would not "lower" herself to use the dark arts, as well as having to stay in front of her progeny. Spells flew between the two, cunningly blocked by the other with shields or hastily conjured objects. Finally, Voldemort penetrated the witches defences by summoning a book shelf into the back of her head, knocking her out. Deciding to deal with the pest later, Voldemort turned to the babies on the bed. One lay prostrate on the bed, a wet spot beneath him. It had red hair and hazel eyes, and appeared to grasp the gravity of the situation, that or Voldemort's aura was getting to it. The other sat in front of it's twin, black hair lay flat on his head as it's glowing emerald eyes glared at him. Voldemort was slightly taken aback by the sheer hatred in the babies eyes, apparently it recognised him as a threat to his family, and didn't like it.
For once, Voldemort felt a small glimmer of fear, this being was no more than an infant and yet shrugged his aura aside and had the audacity to glare at him. Even if this baby was weak magically, and Voldemort could feel it was anything but, it would be a thorn in his side with the intelligence Voldemort could clearly see in his eyes. Deciding this one was the greater threat, Voldemort uttered the most feared words of all time, "Avada Kedavra!" The last thing he saw was the widening of his babies eyes, before his own spell was reflected on him. Absentmindedly, Voldemort fled bodiless as his body was destroyed by his own spell. One thing that he had noticed was that the babies eye colour was the same as the colour of a killing curse. Voldemort fled, unaware that his defeater would not be heralded for his victory, but would instead grow up in the shadow of his older brother, the boy-who-lived.
Albus Brian Wilfred Percival Dumbledore, widely regarded as the only one Lord Voldemort feared, was sprinting down Godric's Hollow, cursing the fact he couldn't apparate from Hogwarts otherwise he would have been here moments ago. As he ran through the gate of the Potter residence, he spotted flashes of light through the nursery window, smiling he realised Lily was still fighting. Unfortunately, just for he entered the house, the lights stopped. Wearily, he walked through the house, sighing in relief when he saw his friend James was still alive, before heading upstairs were he heard the Killing Curse uttered. He entered the nursery just in time to see a spirit flee the room, he strode over to the bed were Nathan Potter was looking up at him. The other twin, Harry, was lying on the bed nearby, sleeping peacefully. Closing his eyes, Albus stretched out his senses to feel the aura of the two children beneath him. Nathan's was vibrant and lively, although felt dark, whereas Harry's was very weak and felt just as dark. Coming to a conclusion that Tom Riddle had been banished, but was still alive, based on the ashes in the corner and what Dumbledore recognised as Tom's wand, he thought that the killing curse had been reflected by one of the twins. Based on the difference in energy and size of the aura's, he thought it more likely to be Nathan, the more powerful one as such a feat would need unprecedented amounts of power. He raised Nathan into the air and proclaimed him the Boy-who-lived. Sighing, he turned to Lily and awoke her with an enervate, unaware he had just made a massive mistake, unaware of the percussions of his actions as he explained to the redhead what he thought had happened.
Harry Potter, aged two, sat on the stairs of the house in which he lived. He had been sent there to wait for his father to come home from work whenever his brother, Nathan, had wanted the toy he was playing with, and had yelled that Harry had stolen the toy from him, despite Harry's objections to the claim. He may have young, but he knew what would occur when his father came back, a firm spanking followed by a grounding and withholding of food. He may have been young, but he realised that although his brothers word would be taken as gospel, he would be called a liar.
Harry Potter, aged three, stood at the door of the dining room. He and Nathan had been called for dinner, but he had been down slightly late after Nathan had pushed him into a door. Now, Nathan, his newly born younger sister, Sarah and his parents sat at the dining room table, eating dinner and laughing without him, as though he wasn't part of the family. He may have been young, but he realised they didn't consider him to be a part of the family.
Harry Potter, aged four, was sitting in the Potter Family library. His parents had begun to teach Nathan how to read and do basic numeracy, they had ignored him. And so he sat in the library, trying to teach himself to read and write, as well as trying to pick up as much magic as he could from the books he practised his growing literacy abilities on. He may have been young, but he realised that he would be given nothing, and would need to earn everything.
Harry Potter, aged 5, sat in the backseat of the car heading towards Little Whinging, Surrey. His parents had announced that Nathan would be home schooled, but that Harry would go to school with his cousin and for this reason, he was being left with his aunt and uncle for the year. He may have been young but he realised that he was being abandoned by his family.
Harry Potter, aged 6, was blowing out the birthday candles of the cake he had drawn in the dust of his cupboard under the stairs. His parents were supposed to come collect him on the last day of the school year, and despite Harry's hope that it would be a tearful reunion with his parents telling him they loved him, he had been left behind and forced to walk to his aunt and uncle's house where he was promptly thrown into the cupboard. He may have been young but he realised he had been abandoned to a childhood of slavery to his aunt and uncle.
Harry Potter, aged 7, was walking away from school. He was in Primary 3 now, and he had realised his parents weren't coming back to get him. He had decided to walk away from his life to make his own way on the streets, armed with nothing more than what little he had looted from his aunt and uncle's house, and what little magic he had learnt from books at his parents home when he had live there. He may have been young, but he realised that he was the only one he could depend upon in this world.
Harry Potter, aged 11, was picking a man off the street. He had spent four years on the streets, adapting and learning to survive on the streets. He had realised his magic acted up when he was emotional and had managed to gain control over his magic. He had some close calls over the years, but was still alive, if somewhat more scarred than he used to be, and had managed to gain some possessions for himself, and was now helping an old man who had fallen, and whom no-one else had helped up. He may have been young, but he realised that even if no one else would do the right thing, he would. He had no wish to be like his parents. He had no idea what repercussions would come from his oath.
This is just a muse that won't leave me, been wanting to write it for quite some time. I know I probably shouldn't start writing another story while I already have 4 works in progress, plus school, extracurricular activities and a part time job. Please review.