Okay, I know a lot of you are waiting for me to update some of my other stories, and I was writing more on the carrier since that seems to be a favorite and I will update it this week after I work some of the things out of it that no longer fit with my writing style, hopefully I will get rid of writers block for that particular story, but while I was reading it I was inspired to write something a little different.

I guess this is another side project since it won't leave me alone and the idea of it has merit. Please enjoy these side projects of mine while I try and find a way to finish my other stories.

I own nothing.

Prolog: Harry Potter dies tonight

Voldemort stood looking at the small petite boy ling at his feet with determination burning in his killing curse eyes. His hands and body bound with magic. Most would think that the evilest dark lord since Salazar himself would be gloating at the fact that his enemy was at his feet, but when said enemy was just a boy how could he take pleasure in it?

The war should never have concerned the child; he should never have been expected to do a man's job. This should never have happened. Harry Potter should have been at home with loving parents. He should have been playing games and getting into trouble. He should NOT have been here prepared to die for people who cared nothing for him.

"The call me evil." He snorted without humor. He was not the one who expected the boy to fight in a bloody war. He allowed his ruby red eyes to look over at his inner circle and landed on the petite form of Narcissa Malfoy.

"Kā€¦Kill me." Potter called out to him, dragging his eyes from the Lady Malfoy.

"Why would I do that Harry?" He asked as he folded his arms and looked at the child with no emotion in his eyes.

Harry looked at him with confusion at his question. "I'm your enemy Tom. I'll never stop fighting you." He stated and the dark lord let out a barking laugh at this statement.

"You're a boy Potter, a child is hardly my enemy." Voldemort stated with a sigh, because it was the truth. Harry Potter was barely sixteen years old.

"I won't join you! You killed my parents!" Potter snapped with his eyes blazing with fury making the Dark lord pause and count to ten while the teen struggled to rid himself of the binding.

"It is war Harry. People die in war and your parent knew the risk of getting involved with the blasted order of flaming chickens. I'm hardly sorry I killed them." Voldemort stated sternly.

"You however should never have been involved with any of this. You do not understand the risks of war. As such I am giving you a way out. A second chance if you will. Narcissa step forward." He ordered before the boy could protest.

He watched as the Lady Malfoy came to him, the blonde hair falling into the pretty face. Without even having to ask small feminine fingers unwound a small bundle of dark blue silk embedded with emeralds around the border.

With a look of complete calm he took the small bundle from her fingers and held it with gentle fingers. Once relieved of her burden she stepped back into her space beside her husband. Voldemort turned back to Harry who was struggling furiously in his binds and aimed his wand. He said nothing as a golden light erupted from his wand to surround the child. When the light faded Harry Potter was gone.

Chapter 1: The Orphanage-Ms. Cole

Ms. Adeline Cole stepped from the Orphanage after a rather grueling day of misbehaving children and into the freezing cold. She grimaced as she looked at the white powder all of the yard, tomorrow would be another day indoors for the children. There was no way she was going to let them run amuck in the freezing cold and track snow throughout the orphanage. She sighed as she leaned against one of the polls, allowing the cold to seep into her ageing bones when she head the soft sounds of a babe's cry coming from just outside of the large black iron rod gates.

Curious and slightly bewildered she stood straight and strained her ears when she heard the soft sound for a second time. Her feet moved of their own accord until she stood just inside the black gates when her eyes landed on a small bundle of silk that moved as the crying got louder.

Realizing just what it was she quickly through the gates open and moved to the bundle, pulling back the silk fabric to see the small face of a babe with green eyes that sparkled with tears. She stood staring at the fragile creature when a soft wimpier spurred her into action. Quickly she grabbed the babe and made her way inside.

She quickly moved to the nursery where she unwound the midnight blue cloth with HR initialed on the left hand corner and snarled in anger. Whoever had left the babe had not even bothered to dress him before leaving him. He didn't even have a dipper on him. The small babe whimpered as his eyes fell closed and sleep claimed him. Quickly and quietly she put a nappy on him before dressing him.

She looked at the cribs in the small room and sighed, they had four cribs, and all four of them held a child. She shook her head as she moved over to the other new member and gently placed the boy next to a sleeping Tom Riddle.

With a gentle hand she pulled the covers up to cover both children before going back to the blanket and picked it up, an old parchment fell onto the floor, grabbing her attention at once. With fingers filled with anger she lifted it and opened the paper.

Madam Cole

Tibran Orphanage,


Madam Cole,

In your care now is one Hadrian Salazar Peverell who was born on July 31st. Both of his parents were murdered leaving him the sole survivor of an attack. He has no next of kin and I am unable to take him in myself. It is the wish of my patron to inform you that little Hadrian should know that his parents loved him very much and died protecting him. Let not their deaths be in vein.


Narcissa M.

Adeline felt her anger rising, if she ever found this Narcissa woman she would tear the fool apart for leaving the boy in the cold with no clothes on.

Chapter 2: Tom and Harry the Early Years

"Look it's the freak!" A large boy with a crooked smile called as he spotted Harry sitting under his favorite tree reading a book. He felt his blood freeze in his veins as dread filled him. Billy Stubbs had taken particular pleasure in terrorizing Harry at every opportunity. He slowly moved his pale green eyes up to the boy and his band of miscreants who stalked towards him with vicious smiles on their faces.

"Can I help you?" Harry asked softly once they came to a stop in front of him.

"What are you doing freak?" Billy sneered at him hatefully as he ripped the book from Harry's much smaller hands.

"Give it back." Harry stated his voice barely above a whisper as he reached for the book. Billy through the large book to one of his cohorts who tossed it into the dirt before roughly grabbing Harry's smaller hand and jerking him so hard that he fell face first into the dirt.

The taller boy laughed maliciously before harshly kicking Harry in the stomach, forcing him to huddle in on himself in order to be protected from the bullies who took great pleasure in roughing him up.

He refused to cry as the blows landed on any open surface when a strong dark voice spoke, "Leave him alone Stubbs." The voice oozed with barely held in fury.

"We were only playing with the weakling Riddle." Stubbs sneered before calling his friends and walking away, leaving Harry in the dirt. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them to see Tom Riddle crouching before him with his book in his hands.

Tentatively he sat up and reached for it, hoping that Riddle would just hand it to him and leave. Unfortunately he was not so lucky. "Pathetic." Riddle snapped coldly with fury in his eyes. "I should just let them beat you the next time." He hissed and Harry barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Tom Riddle hated him more than any other person at the orphanage, but he had gotten it into his head that he was the only one allowed to hurt him. Not that Riddle ever physically beat him; the slightly older boy would never do anything that left a mark. Instead he tormented Harry in other ways, often calling him pathetic and weak. Taking his things and taunting Harry about it.

"Give it back to me Tom." Harry stated softly as he held out his hand for it.

"What are you going to give me for it Peverell? Tom demanded making Harry sigh. This was how it always went with Riddle he didn't know why this time would be any different.

"I don't have anything useful to give you Riddle." Harry stated wearily. The seven year old sighed when Riddle smirked at him.

"I want your blanket Peverell." Riddle stated and Harry looked at him, his body tensing. His blanket was thread barren and wholly, but it was the only thing that kept the chill from him at night. He briefly wondered if the book was worth it before sighing. The book was his birthday present from Ms. Cole and he would feel bad if he didn't read it all the way through. Hesitantly he nodded making Riddle smirk even more.


Tom Riddle looked over at his only friend and smirked as Harry handed him his blanket in exchange for his book. It was a good deal as far as Tom was concerned, Harry got his book back and Tom got his blanket, not that he needed it, but It was Harry's and therefore he desired it. He folded it neatly and placed it at the end of his bed where he kept most of the things Harry had given him over the years. His eyes turned from his little friend to the bed that belonged to the little brat Billy as his mind whirled with the possibilities if the things to do with the brat that dared terrorize his friend.

Nobody had a right to lay a finger on little Harry, and for daring to they would pay. He would make sure of it. He would protect Harry, his only friend. A grin climbed his lips as Harry laid down in his own bed, his book opened to allow him to read the words with a hunger that Tom knew all too well. A part of him regretted giving Harry back the book. After all Harry should only be focused on him and him alone. No one and nothing was worthy of his friends attention.

Tom and Harry are 7 right now and while Harry sees Tom as just another bully Tom really does see Harry as his friend. You may even compare it to a little boy pulling the hair of a girl he likes.

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