AN – Wrote this while planning out the sequel to Change For Good which I'm writing the first chapter of soon. I may post this story as well, just keep it up there on my account so I can write it when I have time, Change for Good sequel – Twist of Fate – will have top priority and I've planned out quite a few chapters already. Hope you like!

Missing Magic

It's a shock when Harry gets accepted into Hogwarts when he apparently has no magic. The Headmaster goes to investigate, but where is Harry, and what's an Avatar?

Chapter 1 – The Night He Perished

James and Lily looked at their boys with loving smiles as they finished reading them a bedtime story.

"And the little wizard hopped on the scarlet train, happy that he was finally on his way to Hogwarts." James finished, snapping the book closed and kissing his boys and wife on their foreheads. Harry and Charlie clapped their hands and giggled at the end of the story, although they couldn't really understand what it was about they enjoyed the colourful moving pictures and funny voices their daddy pulled. "Bed time boys," James said with a yawn, his sons copied his actions with exaggerated movements, squealing happily when they were picked up by their parents and carried upstairs to the nursery.

As soon as they were placed in their crib their eyes widened and they raised up their tiny fists, reaching up to their parents, begging to be picked up again. "No tired!" the boys claimed together, their plump baby lips sticking out in a pout, James and Lily's faces glowed with amused loving smiles as they leant down to kiss both boys on the head and try to get them to sleep.

Their eldest boy by a few minutes was called Harry. Harry James Potter had a mop of jet black hair that curled at the ends and flicked up in all directions, refusing to lie flat. Bright green eyes like his mothers were framed by long dark lashes that lay against his pale cheeks. Harry like most little boys was very active and loved to crawl away from his parents and babysitters. He enjoyed having long conversations in baby talk with his brother Charlie and playing with the family kneezle in the garden where he was always doing something like playing with worms or putting clumps of dirt in his hair.

Charlie Louis Potter had a shock of red hair that stuck up in curly tufts and had hazel eyes like his father. He was active like his brother and was fascinated with his baby broom and soft Quaffle his father James had bought him for his last birthday. Harry was his partner in crime so to speak and when their parents weren't looking they'd reach out their chubby hands and clumsily snatch their wands, quickly hurrying away before their parents realised their wands were missing.

Both boys were loved equally by their parents, and there was nothing they wouldn't do for their twin boys. James lay Harry down in the crib he shared with Charlie and kissed both boys goodnight, holding Lily's hand and doing downstairs to spend some time together. They had just reached the bottom of the staircase when the door to their cottage in Godric's Hollow was knocked down with a band and Voldemort stepped into the hall light.

"Lily, take the boys and run!" James yelled, "I'll hold him off." As Lily ran she heard a high, cold laugh and a thud. Her insides were frozen with fear but she managed to make it to their boys' crib to snatch them up and kiss them, stroking their hair and murmuring to them when she realised that the apparition and wards wouldn't let her through and their floo powder was all downstairs by the hearth – by Voldemort. With tears streaming down her cheeks she put her boys back in their crib and tucked them in again. She looked for her wand but realised she'd left it downstairs on the mantle so the boys couldn't get it. She smoothed down their untameable hair and whispered how much she loved them over and over before the door was blown off its hinges.

Lily whirled to face her attacker, putting herself in front of her boys.

"No, please, not my boys, I'll do anything."

"Get out of the way!" he ordered.

"No, please, kill me instead, not my boys, please!"

Growing tired of the game the witch thought she was playing, Voldemort flicked his wand carelessly at her, sending the woman careening into the wall with a crunch. "I don't have time for mudbloods." He murmured. "Now," he said, talking to himself, "which one of you should I kill first?" Both boys looked up at him and their bottom lips trembled.

"Bad!" Yelled Charlie in his high pitched baby-voice, "BAD, BAD, BAD!"

Voldemort looked at the red haired child and smirked "You first then." He levelled his wand at the child and prepared to speak the curse that would end his measly life.


A great gust of air pushed his hand out of the way and the spell shot through the ceiling blasting a hole in it making debris rain down on them. He ignored the crying baby whose cheek was now dripping blood from a piece of ceiling that had hit him to look at the other boy. His plump baby lips were drawn in a line and his emerald green eyes were narrowed with baby dislike. Curious he raised his wand to the crying child "Avada-" he got no further, his arm was blown to the side and he blew another hole, this time in the floor. "I can see that you are the one the prophecy spoke of. It's a shame really – such power. But I can't let you live, only I can rule." Voldemort levelled his wand at Harry potter and spoke the killing curse . In the few seconds that the green curse hurtled towards young Harry Potter, Voldemort felt a brief wash of satisfaction. After this no one would dispute his reign. He would be all powerful! But, as the curse struck and Harry potter slumped back into the bars on the back of his crib, the most peculiar thing happened.

The curse, which had sunk into the baby, shot straight back out and hurtled towards Voldemort before he could even think about avoiding it.

All he felt next was pain, and just as his tattered soul was split from his body he caught a brief glimpse of little Harry Potter, sitting upright in his crib with glowing pearly eyes that seemed to hold untold power.

In spirit form, Voldemort fled.