Summary: What if Harry Potter had a twin and the Dark Lord was not quite as insane as appeared? What would any of this mean for the Wizarding World? A re-telling of Harry Potter's life.
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter works are not mine. The characters and settings are owned by J. K. Rowling and her respected publishing companies e.g. Bloomsbury.
A/N: This will eventually have a romantic pairing between Draco and Harry but it probably won't happen for a while so this probably isn't the story for you if you want to delve straight into slash.
NB: Most chapters are inspired by a certain song or poem.
The Beginning Of It All...
In this time are we loving?
Or do we sit here wondering
Why this world isn't turning around?
It's now or never.
Now Or Never – Three Days Grace
25th July 1980
The pearly-white full moon, partially-shrouded with grey and misty clouds, shone brightly in the dark expanse of night and the stars (as sparse as they were) pierced the shroud of darkness with tiny pin-pricks of light. Under this hauntingly atramental sky, a black bat stole away from a small, crooked, pub window to his with nary a sound.
"Ah...Severus," an amused voice called when that very same bat was spotted flying through the open window in a large ante-chamber. The owner of the voice was a tall and authoritative man in his early fifties. His dark - slightly greying - hair was styled elegantly to the nape of his neck and his cheekbones, jaw-line, and classic-Greek nose made him a very attractive man. However, he did have one slightly peculiar feature - ruby red eyes - which informed everyone (who was in the know of course) of exactly who he was – Lord Voldemort.
The bat's body began to blur and a young man appeared in its place. His striking obsidian eyes, Roman nose, and straight, ebony hair made him recognisable and striking to many. With a reverent glance at the first man, he lowered gracefully onto his knees and spoke with a smooth tenor. "Good evening, my Lord."
"Rise, Severus." The Dark Lord smiled down at his Death-Eater of four years with eyes full of fond exasperation. "Honestly, how many times must I tell you that you don't have to bow to me?"
"You'll have to tell me a couple more times, I'm afraid," the servant replied with amusement.
"Come on and sit down, Severus; I was just going over the paperwork," he informed his young servant whilst striding into the room opposite. At his lord's declaration, Severus attempted to apologise for interrupting his master's work but Voldemort just waved his concern away. "So what are you doing here? You only reported to me a short while ago. What on earth has happened since then that is so urgent you needed to report to me so expediently" he questioned once they were suitably seated in plush, black leather armchairs with a tumbler of fire-brandy each.
Severus took a smooth sip of his drink and settled more firmly into his seat. "After reporting to you earlier this evening, I saw Dumbledore leaving the castle so I followed him," the younger wizard told the older, who nodded along to his servant's story. "Dumbledore went into one of the private rooms inside the Hog's Head and then approximately. ten minutes later a woman entered the private room to interview for the Divination position. The woman's name was Sybil Trelawney."
Voldemort shared a pointed look with Severus and exhaled loudly. "As in Cassandra Trelawney's granddaughter?" he enquired and Severus nodded.
"So he started interviewing her and she was...abysmal to put it lightly," he stated in a dry voice, and the Dark Lord snorted at his curt description. "However, when Dumbledore informed her that she was unsuccessful in her application she entered into a trance-like state and seemingly made a prophecy – about you."
Voldemort's sculpted eyebrows shot up. "Really now?"
"Yes." Severus gave a short nod. "I managed to hear the full prophecy and then came straight to you. I must say the prophecy is quite...enlightening."
"I imagine so," he commented with lightly, taking a sip of his brandy and waving for Severus to continue.
"The prophecy declared that 'the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...And the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal...He will have one of two choices...Defy the Dark Lord like his parents before him...Join the Dark Lord and become unconquerable...The one with the power to support the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."
"That certainly was enlightening, Severus. Good observation," Voldemort idly commented and hummed in thought. "As far as I am aware, the only witches expecting at the end of July - at least in British wizarding - society is Longbottom and Potter, correct?" he asked the younger man, noting the scowl at the second name and filing it away for later.
"Yes, my Lord."
"Of course, this does not account for any muggleborn or foreign families but I believe I would recall those who had thrice defied me. So, two traditionally light-oriented families," he mused "they would never willingly hand their child to me and Dumbledore will also undoubtedly tell them of the prophecy and hide them away somewhere from me."
"That does seem like something he would do." Severus agreed with a sour face.
"Well then," the Dark Lord interrupted several minutes of silence. "There are a few ways to solve this problem but I would rather we shed as little magical blood as possible." Severus raised an eyebrow at the amusement painting his lord's face. "We're going to steal a baby," he explained calmly whilst relaxing into his chair as the last of his fire-brandy slid down his throat. Lovely.
31st July 1980
Lily Potter threw her head back with a scream of agony. She had been in labour for the past day and a half; listening to the healers whispered reassurances with annoyance whilst they frantically examined her and dabbed her brow with damp, potion-drenched towels.
James Potter had been thrown out of the room 6 hours previously after annoying his wife to no end by just pacing about panicking. Currently, he was outside the birthing-room and pacing a hole into the hallway carpet with his best friends Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew for company.
"That's it, Lily! Just one more push!" one healer cheered on, as the labouring woman scrunched her face in the sheer effort it was taking and screeched as her second son was squeezed out from her. Hearing his healthy cry, Lily smiled delightedly and released a huge sigh of exhaustion and contentment as two bundles were pressed into her arms - her children – her twin boys.
The elder of the two had a spattering of dark auburn hair and dark blue eyes; weighing 7lb, 6oz.
The younger of the two had a shock of black hair and light blue eyes; weighing 5lb, 1oz. This boy - tiny and innocent - was born an hour and forty-three minutes after his twin - born on the 31st July 23:59 PM - born as the seventh month died.
The child of prophecy.
31st October 1981
Over a year after the Potter's welcomed their twin son's into the world, six shadowed figures appeared on the outskirts of Potter cottage.
"Lucius! Report," Voldemort commanded sharply, whilst staring into the alert silver eyes of Lucius Malfoy. "Where is Pettigrew at the moment?" he questioned the blonde who just smirked maliciously in return.
"In the atrium of the Ministry clutching his confession in his grimy, pudgy, little hand. Soon everyone will know exactly who betrayed the precious Potters," he informed them smugly.
"Honestly, Lucius. It is really hard to forget your flair for dramatics with these acts you perform." Voldemort sighed exasperatedly, barely refraining from pinching the bridge of his nose with exasperation. "I said to place him in a natural position where he could easily be found, not in an extremely suspicious place where people will doubt his sincerity as he confesses all his sins on a couple of sides of parchment." Lucius didn't even find the act of at least looking apologetic worth his time, as he just grinned and shrugged his shoulders.
Voldemort shook his head - internally cursing the impetuousness of Abraxas' son - and instead addressed the rest of the group.
"Are you ready?" Voldemort asked the five figures before him. They were five of his most trusted servants, each of whom had each risen within his ranks quickly and with devout loyalty - Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, then Rodolphous, Rabstan, and Bellatrix Lestrange. The all nodded back at him, with the exception of Bellatrix who bounced excitedly on her toes; her beautiful wavy tresses blowing with ferocity in the biting October wind.
Her companions could not bring themselves to tell her to calm down as they too were fuelled with nervous excitement. For the past five years, she had consulted numerous healers and spent a fortune of the Black and Lestrange money to repeatedly receive the same outcome: infertile. They could never diagnose a reason why she was incapable of bearing children, the reality was that she just was. All she ever wanted was a child of her own, ever since she was a child herself, and now she wanted someone her and Rodolphus could love. So, when her beloved Dark Lord told her that she would be the one to care for the Potter boy, she cried tears of joy as her husband silently held her.
"The Potters aren't here at the moment," he informed his followers. "They decided to have some time alone," he sneered. "They only have their nursemaid caring for the children so I repeat I want this as a simple stun and grab, got it?" He glared at each of them - especially Bellatrix - he did not want his plan derailed from an overeager or wand-happy servant.
"Now, Severus. You say it is the dark-haired one we want?" he asked Hogwarts' newly-appointed Potions Master (newly-appointed after Slughorn took a particularly nasty fall down the stairs). Severus confirmed his master's statement with a tame sneer, to which Voldemort rolled his eyes.
"I am aware you loathe the senior Potter, Severus, but really?" he said, shaking his head in chastisement. "This child will soon be a Lestrange - not a Potter - I will not have you clouding your judgment with sins that are not the Lestrange heir's." Severus offered a wry grin in apology, which Voldemort graciously accepted but still had a lingering question "And Severus, I know you used to be infatuated with the girl, will that waver your loyalty to me?" he asked softly; ruby eyes warm, already knowing the answer.
Severus shook his head rapidly. "Never!" His answer swift. Vehement. "Besides, my Lord, I am - how did you describe it? Infatuated? Yes, - infatuated with another."
"Is that so, young one?" Voldemort questioned in a dark, interested, tone and Severus visibly paled at the amusement painted across his Lord's. "We will definitely be discussing that later, Severus, but for now, onto the task at hand." Voldemort casually sauntered towards the wooden door and sighed at the pitiful excuse of wards the Potter's thought were sufficient enough to guard their most treasured children. The wards gave him hardly any resistance and he easily batted them away with a strong enough show of magic. Once the wards had fizzled away into the ether, he gave the door three sharp raps and withing seconds it opened to reveal a young woman with cropped brown hair and large almond eyes.
"Hello my dear," The Dark Lord smiled charmingly down at her but upon spotting his ruby-red eyes, she froze in terror. "Stupefy," he lazily cast the spell and watched dispassionately as her body collapse gracelessly to the ground. Turning his head to the left, he ordered: "Rodolphus, Rabastan guard the back. Lucius, Severus the front. The four men nodded and swiftly complied. "Bella, dear," he called out to his pseudo-daughter with a fond smile
"Yes my Lord?" she stared at him with large, doe-eyes.
"You're coming with me to the nursery," Voldemort ignored her squeal of delight and gracefully stepped over the slumped nursemaid in the doorway and quickly bounded up the stairs; Bella bounced ecstatically along behind him.
A door to his left was slightly ajar and the sound of a soothing lullaby could be heard emanating from within. Stepping carefully into the room, Voldemort could just make out the pale blue and white walls and two cots in the centre of the room due to small, glowing orb fixed on the back wall. Striding more purposefully into the room, Voldemort peered down into the cots. On his left, an auburn-haired child was deep asleep hugging a blanket to his chest, and in the right cost was Harry Potter sitting upright on his mattress, with his head tilted cutely to its side, and his nose wrinkled deep in thought as he stared into the Dark Lord's eyes.
Bellatrix emerged from behind her Lord and as soon as Harry saw the woman though he smiled a toothless smile at her. Bella returned his smile with joy and stroked his hair gently. "Do you want to come and live with me, little-one?" she asked him lovingly. The fifteen-month-old boy gurgled an answer and raised his short arms upwards towards her. Bellatrix reverently removed little Harry from his cot and held him against her chest with a loving smiled that did not falter once even when he began playing with her hair.
"It's nice to see you two getting along," Voldemort commented with a small smile at how natural she looked with a child hugged to her chest. Suddenly, a thought struck him "Pass him over, Bella, I just need to perform a spell." The young woman pouted at him but complied nonetheless. "It's just for a couple of moments, Bella," he stated with a laugh and gently stroked Harry's chubby cheek.
"I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, name you, Harry James Potter, as my blood brother. Will you accept this offering of my blood? "Voldemort firmly intoned the ritual words and felt his magic stirring in response. With a quiet cutting-curse, he slashed a jagged line in his palm and pressed his bleeding hand to the child's forehead. A bright golden light glowed beneath Voldemort's palm, and he smiled smugly in response. "As marked by my blood, so mote it be."
Voldemort shuddered as a sliver of his magic left his body and entered the child via the blood on his forehead. With a small curious noise, Harry turned his curious green-eyes onto his new older brother. Voldemort pressed his nose against Harry's button one. "You're ours now, little one. Your mum and dad are going to look after you now, aren't they?" he cooed softly, and firmly ignored Bella's giggle, he knew that he looked quite dignified.
The Dark Lord was about to give the small child to Lady Lestrange when he felt a familiar and very unwelcome aura flash into the house - most likely from an illegal and unknown floo network in the next room over. Stiffening, he hugged the child closer to his chest. "LEAVE!" he roared to his followers outside through the open window and sent a corresponding pulse of magic through the Dark Mark. "DUMBLEDORE IS HERE!"
"My Lord, give Harry to me!" Bella urged quickly, her muscles taut and ready to flee. He was about to comply, wanting the child far away from that man, but there was little time left. Voldemort could feel Dumbledore's magic already outside the room.
"My Lord!" she cried, tears streaming from her dark-chocolate eyes, arms stretched out for the baby she so desperately wanted to keep.
"I'm so sorry, Bella," Voldemort whispered to her whilst waving his arm in a sweeping gesture and forcefully apparating her away from the house just as Dumbledore crossed the threshold of the room.
"Give the child to me, Tom," Dumbledore warned the Dark Lord softly, his wand aimed toward the Dark Lord.
"Never!" Voldemort swore; drawing his own wand.
Dumbledore sighed and his expression turned grim. "You have left me with no choice, Tom."
"Silence! Sectumsempra!" The bright white light shot of Voldemort's wand. With a swift flick and some murmured words, Dumbledore sent the mirror hanging on the wall came flying into his hand - causing the curse to reflect back on its caster and the child held within his arms.
"No!" the denial was loud in the silence of the house, and with a quick turn of his heel, the Dark Lord bore the brunt of the curse and not the child in his arms who it was otherwise aimed at.
The curse rang true and the Dark Lord stumbled backward. A magnificent flash of light lit up the skies, and the only sound in the air on the night of Hallows Eve was the lone cry of a babe.
A/N: Edited and reposted on 17/11/19
I know I said I was on hiatus but I'm a lying liar and couldn't bring myself to give this to another author. Sorry!