A sibling may be the keeper of one's identity, the only person with the keys to one's unfettered, more fundamental self. ~Marian Sandmaier

Hey everyone! This is my first time writing a HP fanfic but I've been reading loads of it. I noticed so many twins-fic that I begun to wonder what if Harry did really have a twin brother? Yes, this is a Dark!Harry fic but I assure you, I have something completely different in plan.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter and any of its characters. I only own this story and the original characters though J.K Rowling can take full credit for the setting and everything that's hers. But the rest of it is mine.

Chapter 1: The Boy who Lived

A cloaked man stalked up a cobbled pathway, shooting menacing looks at every dressed-up child who passed his way. He hated children and seeing them enjoying the sweets that they had garnered from adult Muggles just made him want to hex them. He did not like to be reminded about how he never enjoyed his childhood life. Shaking his head, he hurried up the street, ignoring the funny looks he was receiving from the children.

He halted in front of a large mansion, his destination. He looked up at the grandeur of its exterior, noting the obvious display of mundane protective spells all over the house. He smirked and placed his hand on the gate, knowing that he would not be affected by the numerous wards. The strongest ward was down due to their mistaken trust in a 'friend' who was in fact, his follower. With the Fidelio's Charm gone, he could enter the house without any difficulty. Everything was going according to the plan- the plan that he had made from the moment he had heard the prophecy from another loyal servant's mouth. The prophecy indicated an enemy that could destroy him and he was not going to let the prophecy come into play. He was going to stop it and thus the plan was simple. Kill the Potters.

He pushed open the gate, the wooden creation swinging backwards, allowing him to continue his journey up to the mansion. He walked into the massive garden and headed immediately towards to the front door. Walking at a brisk pace, he showed no hurry but as well as no leisure in his quest to dispose of the family that was now powerless to defend themselves against him. He was sure he was going to finish them off tonight. Pulling out his wand from beneath his robes, he reached the door soon enough and whispered something, causing the door to click open. He placed a white hand on the doorknob before pushing open the door.

To his surprise, there seemed to be no one in the house. The long corridor was dark as were all the rooms on the ground floor. He could not hear anything with the exception of the ticking of a clock somewhere in the home. He frowned slightly before stepping into the house, onto the crimson carpeted floor. He wondered silently at the lack of human presence in the home. Standing at the doorway with only the light from the moon that was pouring in through the open door as the source of light in the corridor, he kept silent as he pondered on the missing Potters.

His head snapped up. He heard a small creak above him and he was quite certain it was not made by a rat. Smiling to himself, he hurriedly stalked to the large staircase in the middle of the corridor and climbed the long flight of stairs that took him to the second level. Once he was there, his smiled widened as he saw light pouring from beneath the closed door of a room. He walked over and found the door closed. Unperturbed, he cast the same spell that he did before. The door unlocked immediately and he pushed open the door almost calmly. It's almost over, he thought grimly in satisfaction, no one would stand in my way again.

Greeted with a barrier of boxes and chairs, he snorted with amusement at how pathetic the Potters' resistance was. With a simple wave of his wand, the boxes and chairs flew aside, colliding against the dark blue painted walls, revealing a very terrified looking woman. She was beautiful, with red hair falling in waves behind her back and her emerald orbs were staring at him with unmasked fear but as well as, to his bemusement, determination. Despite the very fact she held no wand to protect herself from him, she stood upright before him, her arms thrown apart, as though it would protect her two babies who were sleeping peacefully before her. She met his eyes, her jaw set, not moving away from her spot in front of the two cribs. How Gryffindor of her… he thought, amused.

"Stand aside girl!" he snarled. He did not want to spare her at all- she was a filthy Mudblood afterall but he remembered a plea from a faithful servant to leave her alone. He felt weird to allow a Mudblood a chance to leave unharmed but he was feeling particularly generous today.

"No!" she screamed, as though the loudness of her voice could prove that she was not afraid. "Please have mercy! Do not kill my sons!"

"Move aside silly girl!"


"Avada Kedavra."

A green light filled the room. The woman dropped to the floor like a puppet that had its strings cut. He was fuming, not believing how incredibly stupid the woman was. He had offered her a rare chance to flee but she didn't, instead choosing to plead her way with him. His patience had worn thin and he saw no point to keeping her alive even if his servant so wanted her alive. Poor Severus would have to deal with it, he thought, kicking the dead woman as he moved towards the cribs.

Two baby boys slept peacefully in their respective cribs. They were dressed in identical garbs of red and gold- Gryffindor colours that hurt the man's eyes. They looked almost identical though their hair looked a little different. The child on his left had a slightly redder tinge to his hair though the one on the right has raven-black hair. Other than that, the man saw no differences. They were eerily identical but that was what you would expect from twins. Both of them were curled in a fetal position, the red haired one sucking on his thumb whereas the darker head was not. Neither woke up when their mother hit the floor. They just carried on sleeping, not knowing that they were going to be killed soon enough.

The man raised his wand again, pointing at nothing in particular as he pondered on which child to dispose off first. Shrugging, he pointed his wand at the dark haired one, letting a small smirk grace his thin lips as he basked in the triumph. He just had to kill off the two boys and be on his way. Nothing would stop him again. A fully fledged smirk rested upon his face and he whispered the Killing Curse, knowing that in a split second, nothing would stand in his way again.

But no. Unbeknown to him, he was wrong. The green light, the mark of the Killing Curse, went straight to the sleeping child but instead of blasting the child into smithereens as it should, it changed direction and rebounded upon the man. The man screamed, his magic erupting from his body as he felt his bones and skin disintegrate in a slow torture. Pain enveloped the man as his body and magic were ripped apart from each other. The magic slammed against the walls, causing the entire building to rumble. The chandelier that hung from the ceiling shattered as the man let out a blood-curling scream that was cut off the moment his body fell as ashes, no longer whole.

But silence did not fall as by then, the two boys were awake. The red haired one was howling in pain as one of the crystal shards from the exploded chandelier had sliced him across the cheek. Bleeding profusely from his wound, he continued screaming, calling his parents occasionally in his baby talk. His screams were drowning out his twin brother's bawls of pain. Unlike the red haired one, the younger twin was pressing a pudgy hand to his forehead where he fought extreme pain from the scar he received from the Killing Curse. The scar, a lighting-shaped one, was as thin as a hair and was barely visible. It was now hidden beneath the child's hand as his cries quietened to whimpers.

Just then, another man burst into the room, his brown eyes filled with fear as he took in the shattered remains of the room. His eyes dropped onto the dead body of his wife and the man hurried over to his wife, falling to his knees to pick up the woman in his arms. Totally oblivious to his sons, he stared at his wife's face, before finally bursting into tears. He rocked back and forth, cradling the woman's upper body in his arms, tears cascading down his face as he whispered her name over and over again. He did not respond when another man entered the room.

The man was tall and dressed in a silvery-blue robes that was decorated with gold stars. A long white beard fell all the way to his stomach with an equally long and white hair to match. A pair of half-moon spectacles rested on the man's long nose as he peered at the surroundings with shock. The gaze turned to sorrow when he took in the tear-jerking sight of James Potter hugging his dead wife. The elder man swallowed and walked over to James, resting a wrinkled hand on the grieving man's shoulder. He said nothing but instead observed the ashes and black robes that laid on the floor. His eyes travelled to the two children in their cribs as he realised what had happened. The Killing Curse's magical signature was still in the air and the man looked at the children, more specifically at the red-haired one who was still howling from the nasty cut on his cheek.

The elderly man stepped over the ashes and robes to the red-haired one to study the child. He knew then, that the child had survived the Killing Curse- a feat unheard of in the entire magical history. The man silenced the child with a comforting hand before turning to the child's father to arouse him from his sorrowful state to inform James that his sons were still alive and more importantly, one of them survived the curse.

That night, that fateful Halloween night, changed the lives of the Potter twins. The red head, Avery Evan Potter, was named the Boy Who Lived and his name was spread throughout the entire magical world. His name was known and he became famous in a single night as wizards from all over the world celebrated the boy's triumph over the Dark Lord. The child's name would be carried down magical history, known as the saviour. Albus Dumbledore, the elderly man who was hailed as the greatest wizard alive, confirmed that young Avery had destroyed Lord Voldemort. Dumbledore, being the leader of the Light and all, was already planning from the moment he saw Avery in that crib to make the child the beacon of hope to all who was against the Dark and Lord Voldemort.

However, unbeknown to all, the younger Potter twin, Harrison James Potter, watched Dumbledore and his father pick up his brother Avery to name him as the Chosen One as the lightning scar throbbed in pain. Harrison, or Harry, was never mentioned as the survivor of the Killing Curse. The one-year old child then did not know that he was going to grow in the shadow of his twin brother or that he would never be able to get the title of the Boy Who Lived that was rightfully his. The dark-haired child only cared to be picked up by his father and comforted from the dulling pain on his forehead. But James Potter never did. James never held his second son again.

With the naming of the wrong Potter twin as the Chosen One, the wheels of fate begun to spin in a different direction. The threads of destiny that changed and intertwined with one another, casting a very different future for Harry and Avery but they all lead to one identical end with very different endings. When their destinies were formed, the wheels off gate grinded to a stop, solidifying their fates as well as many others. Time moved on and everyone continued on with their lives, all moving towards that single end that would affect everybody. And it was all tangled with the threads of the Potter twins' lifes.

That's the first chapter! A little short but I hope you liked it! Please review!