Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I never have and I never will and I am only saying this once so I will not repeat it in later chapters.

. . .

Part One: Salvation

. . .

1

Dreams

Privet Drive; an ordinary and normal place to live with house that looked identical to each other with only the number and the Halloween decorations being different and yet it was an eyesore to Tom Riddle, known to everyone else except a select few as Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord didn't know exactly what drew him to Privet Drive exactly nine years after his defeat, other than the news from his spy that the bloody Boy-Who-Lived—the boy who had somehow caused the Killing Curse to rebound and thus left Tom without a body for three years—lived there.

Tom knew that the boy was likely going to be protected but he had the advantage of being able to walk down Privet Drive, so long as he avoided the house in which the boy lived, because no one knew he was back yet, nor did they know exactly what he looked like even if they did know he was back. To anyone else, it looked like he was just taking a stroll down Privet Drive, and the fact that he looked nothing like he did when he was defeated helped matters tremendously.

It was primarily thanks to the horcrux in the journal Tom had given to his loyal follow Lucius Malfoy that he had a body as it was, and it was because he had used the first horcrux he made—which contained half his soul—that he wasn't quite as insane as he was when he attacked the Potters nine years earlier. And that sanity allowed him to see that he shouldn't have acted as rashly as he had in listening to and believing a prophecy when he only knew half of it; it was such a…a Gryffindor thing to do.

Tom curled his lip at the thought of his rashness that resulted in him losing his body before he paused as he gazed briefly at Number 4 Privet Drive, where the Boy-Who-Lived lived with his muggle relatives, before continuing to walk. Why the bloody old coot Albus Dumbledore would leave the Boy-Who-Lived with muggles, Tom would never know.

He obviously didn't learn his lesson, Tom thought with a sneer as he entered the park that lay a few blocks from the Boy-Who-Lived's home. The boy was only ten years old and, while Tom could easily find a way to kill the boy without Dumbledore knowing, the fact that he wasn't as insane as many people would think allowed him to realize that he could actually benefit from the Boy-Who-Lived remaining alive.

After all, what better vengeance was there than to turn the prophecy in his favor by converting the boy to his side?

Tom had to wonder how he hadn't thought of that before. And he also wondered why the hell he had paid attention to and acted upon half a prophecy. He decided he would blame it on the fact that his soul had been shattered far too many times that he really only had a sliver of his soul left when he was defeated. After all, he has never acted so rashly before; he was the Heir of Slytherin for crying out loud, rashness was not a Slytherin trait and Tom was the epitome of all things Slytherin.

As he was walking around the park, looking casual as if he was just taking a stroll—he had reluctantly put on muggle attire so as to not stand out while he was checking on the protections around the Boy-Who-Lived's place—he spotted a rather small boy sitting on a swing nearby. The boy wasn't even playing; he was just sitting there looking around and appearing rather skittish as if afraid someone would jump him.

The boy looked to be eight or nine years old and was dressed in clothing that was obviously too big for him with rips and stains in various places. His black hair was messy, like a bird's nest and round glasses rested on his nose in front of shockingly bright green eyes. Tom stopped the instant he caught sight of those eyes; the mudblood mother of the Boy-Who-Lived had those same colored eyes and yet…so had someone else.

Tom viciously shoved the memory to the back of his mind. As he had used the horcrux he created when he was sixteen to create his new body, he should have only had the memories up until the piece of his soul when he was sixteen was sealed in the journal. However, because he had merged the soul piece in the journal with the rest of his soul from after he was defeated he was able to retain all of his memories.

Including ones of her.

Tom ground his teeth together refusing to go down memory lane. The past was the past and the old coot Dumbledore would pay dearly for taking everything from him one year before he had been defeated.

He should be getting back though and was about to leave when he spotted an overweight muggle with brown hair and an ugly sneer on his face—one reminiscent of the sneers that Tom had received during his stay at the orphanage before he had used his magic to make sure no one bothered him again—walked toward the small boy. The overweight boy looked like he was ten years old and he easily dwarfed the smaller boy.

"Ohh, look it's the little freak," the boy said, which caused the other boys who had followed him to laugh. The bigger boy then proceeded to shove the small boy who had stood up and bravely faced the bigger boy to the ground. The boy landed with a thud and Tom ground his teeth together as he watched the boy and his friends gang up on the smaller boy; it was just a muggle but Tom still hated bullies.

The small boy managed to get away from the other boys though it was obvious he was hurt as he was limping. He didn't even try to defend himself though; he obviously didn't think he stood a chance and thought running was the better option, an act of self-preservation when one thought about it.

"Get back here, freak," the overweight boy shouted and ran after the smaller boy. Tom watched with detached interest as the small boy dashed around him as if he hadn't seen him before he stepped aside to avoid getting run over by the overweight muggle and his friends. Something told him to keep watching though and Tom was glad that he did when the smaller boy suddenly vanished with a crack to reappear in the middle of the park, looking lost and confused.

If Tom hadn't been looking right at the boy when it happened, he would never have believed it. The boy had just apparated and did so unconsciously in what was obviously a burst of accidental magic.

The boy was a wizard.

As far as I know, there are no Wizarding children in this neighborhood, except…was it possible? Tom thought observing the boy who was still looking around in shock and confusion and was that fear?

"Boy!" A shout sounded and the boy paled as an overweight man with a thick mustache stalked over to join him with a skinny, horse-faced woman walking over to the overweight kid from earlier.

"What happened, Duddykins?" the horse-faced woman cooed.

Tom felt sick at that.

Briefly, he wondered why in the world he was staying when he should be heading back to Malfoy Manor.

"The freak just disappeared and reappeared there," the boy—Duddykins?—said pointing a shaking hand at the smaller boy

"What did I tell…? You are….! Just wait until we get home," the older man hissed angrily clearly trying to stop himself from striking the boy in a public park. When he grabbed the boy though, the yelp the boy let out suggested it wasn't exactly gentle.

How dare you treat a Wizarding child like that, muggle? Tom thought furiously. And people wondered why he hated muggles so much, especially when they did something like this, calling a wizard a 'freak' and treating him so roughly. The man didn't even bother on checking on the boy's injuries and didn't even bother in hearing the boy's side of the story.

Tom didn't know what possessed him to follow the family as they left the park. They were muggles; he didn't want anything to do with muggles but then perhaps it was because of the boy, the magical child who was handled so roughly just because of accidental magic, something that he couldn't control. And he was only trying to save himself when it happened.

Plus, for some reason, Tom felt as if he should recognize that boy and he didn't understand why. The boy's eyes were so like hers bright like the Killing Curse, and yet it was a common color and he looked nothing like her aside from that.

Why am I bothering with this kid? Sure he's being treated like I was when I was a kid but that's something for the Wizarding Child Services to take care of. Even if the kid's a mudblood, no magical child should be treated like that, Tom thought.

Contrary to popular belief, Tom didn't believe—anymore—that all muggleborns should die. Sure, at first when he first began his campaign to take over the British Wizarding World, he had wanted that, hence why he set the Basilisk on the muggleborns at Hogwarts in his fifth year. However, after meeting her, he began to see the advantage of having muggleborns on his side and began to realize that if he ever wanted to control the British Wizarding World, he couldn't exactly kill off anyone with magic. She had made him see that the magical community was small enough as it was and if he didn't accept muggleborns, he would be ruling over a community of the dead because, eventually, no more purebloods would be born.

She had explained that the Wizarding World needed the new magical blood of muggleborns if they wanted to stand a chance at surviving. She agreed that inviting muggleborns into the Wizarding World threatened to reveal the magical community to the muggles but she also said that if they could find a way to keep muggles from finding out about magics existence and accept muggleborns into the community then it would prevent the magical community from dying out. Naturally, the muggleborns would be inferior to the purebloods and half-bloods of the community but at least they would be alive, which was the opposite of what Tom originally wanted to do with them.

She was the only one who could argue with me and not get crucio'd, Tom mused, an odd feeling of nostalgia going through him and he pushed it away.

He paused when he reached the edge of the street just in time to see the couple and the two children enter their house at Number 4 Privet Drive, the same home that was surrounded by blood wards that Tom could not get by; the same house in which the Boy-Who-Lived lived.

Interesting. So this is the Savior of the Wizarding World? Ironic that he would be treated similar to how I was treated, Tom mused walking away before, once he was out of sight of both that home and the home of the squib across the street, he apparated away with a crack.

. . .

Harry Potter curled into a ball in the cupboard beneath the stairs that his uncle had tossed him in after beating him for doing something freaky at the park. It was worse than normal mostly because he had done something freaky in public and anyone could have seen; as far as Harry knew, the only one who saw anything was that strange guy at the park and he hadn't said anything.

There was something odd about the guy that Harry had run by while he was running from his cousin Dudley and his friends. That was primarily because the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead had burned when he passed by him and only faded once he was several feet away. Never before has Harry's scar burned, except that one time when he was four years old and had been working in the garden; it had been in the middle of June and had happened so suddenly that Harry had nearly attracted the attention of everyone in the neighborhood when he started screaming and crying.

He had ended up remaining in his cupboard after being hit several times because of that, even though he wasn't even sure if it had been his fault or not.

Sighing, Harry shifted until he was in a comfortable position, wincing whenever he moved his arm since he was sure it was broken or his leg, which was bruised badly from the beating Dudley and his friends had given him in the park. Harry had long ago stopped bothering on asking himself why no one ever stopped that whenever it happened. It didn't change anything, nothing he did changed anything.

He had tried going to one of his teachers before about his relatives. He tried to tell his teacher that his relatives treated him badly. The teacher had believed him, until she called his relatives in and then suddenly he was labeled as an attention-seeking liar and a delinquent who would say anything to get out of trouble. Ever since then, Harry gave up trying to tell anyone about how his relatives treated him; adults were all the same, they wouldn't believe him and he would be right back where he started, albeit with more injuries than before.

Harry didn't want to say that he hated his relatives, even though he supposed a part of him did, and he had always thought that he deserved everything his relatives did to him. He always assumed it was because he was a freak who caused the deaths of his parents and who didn't deserve to live.

When he was younger, Harry never considered what his relatives did to him as abuse and the only reason he told his teacher was because he saw how other adults treated their children and other children and it was nothing like how his relatives treated him. He didn't even know what classified as abuse until he learned about that one student who was in secondary school who had been killed by her relatives.

The story was on the news the day after Harry's birthday. Harry wasn't supposed to be listening to the news but he did and he heard that the girl had been beaten and starved much like Harry had been. The report had said that it was "the worst case of child abuse in London in decades" and the girl's parents had been arrested and sent to jail for murder.

That was when Harry began to fear that what happened to that girl would end up happening to him, so he did everything he could to try and stay on his relatives' good side. However, it was because of that story—at least that was what Harry thought—that his relatives started treating him a little bit better; they fed him more often, though it was still just table scraps, and his uncle didn't beat him as often, only if he did something freaky like today. It was better than the last nine years had been and Harry was going to take what he could get, since he was likely never going to leave this house. Adults couldn't be trusted.

He shifted until he was lying down and closed his eyes, though it was still a while before he finally fell asleep.

Harry wasn't used to dreaming about anything. Usually, he was so exhausted from all of his chores that he just fell asleep and woke up in the morning without having dreamed a single thing, or perhaps without remembering anything that he had dreamed. Today was different because he suddenly found himself sitting cross-legged in grass with a river winding its way around him. The sky was overcast promising rain and a cool breeze drifted around Harry, gently carding through his hair almost as if it was a hand.

"Harry," a soft voice whispered and Harry turned his head to find, to his surprise, two women kneeling beside him. The first was a tall, slender woman with bright red hair and bright green eyes while the second was shorter and blonde but with the same bright green eyes as the taller woman.

Harry blinked confused. "Who are you?" he asked.

The women smiled. "Harry, I am Lily," the red haired woman whispered.

"And I am Acelina," the blonde woman said. "We came here to speak to you because there is something you need to know, something that is very important."

"Harry, Acelina and I are dead," Lily said softly. "Today is Halloween as you well know and today is when the barrier between the living and the dead is at its weakest, which is why we were able to come speak to you."

"But who are you?" Harry asked confused.

"Harry, did Petunia ever tell you about your 'parents'?" Lily asked.

Harry, confused by the air quotes Lily had used, shook his head. "No, they just said they were freaks who got killed in a car accident," he said.

"She did what?!" Lily exclaimed.

Acelina shook her head. "Bloody muggles," she growled.

"She lied to you, Harry," Lily said. "You see, it's a long and complicated story but Petunia isn't really your aunt. You have no blood relation to her at all actually."

"I don't?"

"No. You see, when you were born, a man decided that he didn't want you to stay with your real family," Acelina explained gently. "I am your real mother, Harry, and Lily here is your adopted mother. She didn't know that you had been taken from your family when you were given to her and her husband."

"I thought you were abandoned and an orphan and I just wanted to give you a home," Lily said softly. "The man insisted that my husband and I blood-adopt you, which is the only reason why—on paper—Petunia is your aunt, though she isn't. When I died…"

"That green light?" Harry asked confused.

Lily's eyes gleamed with unshed tears. "You remember?" she whispered.

"I just remember a green light and someone screaming and then a lot of pain," Harry admitted.

"Yes, that is what happened," Lily said. "But anyway, when I died, I came here and met with Acelina who told me all about what happened. I was horrified to learn that I had, unknowingly, agreed to kidnap a child from his real family. I couldn't believe that man because I trusted him. My husband was even shocked and horrified, though I think he was more horrified by who your father is. Am I going too fast for you?"

Harry blinked. "A…A little," he admitted. "I don't understand. Why was I taken from my real family? And who's my real father? And how do I know this is all real?"

"We are dead, Harry, and the dead know everything," Acelina said.

"We were shown possible futures when we first came here," Lily said, "and many of them I do not wish to see come to pass and yet there is one, however shocking it may be, that I want to occur, even if it means supporting a side I never thought I would support."

"I don't…"

"I think we may be forgetting that he is only ten, Lily," Acelina said. "I don't think he'll understand a lot of this. He may be the son of a genius but his upbringing likely makes it hard for him to show whether he is a genius like his father or not."

Lily sighed. "I know," she said. She glanced at Harry. "Here's one thing you can do, Harry. Acelina will tell you her full name and the name of your father. If you can figure out a way to get to Diagon Alley and to Gringotts then you can confirm who your real parents are. Would that prove that everything we told you is true?"

"I…I guess so but what's this Diagon Alley? And how do I get there?"

"It's a Wizarding place in London where most students get their supplies for school," Acelina said.

Harry just looked at them before he looked down. "Magic's not real," he said softly.

"Who told you that?!" Acelina exclaimed furiously. "How dare anyone tell a wizard magic isn't real?! The nerve of those stupid muggles!"

Harry shrank away from his 'supposed' mother's anger and Lily placed a hand on his shoulder before looking at Acelina. "Lina, calm down. You're scaring him," she said gently.

Acelina took a deep breath before calming down and closing her eyes. "I'm sorry. It's just shocking that someone would tell you that magic doesn't exist. It does exist, Harry. Haven't you ever done anything that you couldn't explain at all?" she asked.

Harry blinked. "Well, I was running and ended up on the roof of my school one time. Oh, and I turned my teacher's hair blue once," he said.

"Apparation at your age? I do believe you will become a powerful wizard, probably as powerful as your father," Acelina said eyes wide.

"That was all accidental magic, Harry," Lily said. "All wizards your age have occasional bursts of accidental magic."

Harry was silent for a long moment; this was a lot to take in. He ran a hand through his hair as he thought about this and Acelina frowned before stretching out a hand and gently tracing her finger over Harry's scar.

"I think your father will want to take a look at this," she murmured before she looked at Harry. "But that can be done later."

"Is my father's still alive?" Harry asked.

Acelina smiled. "Yes, he is. Actually, I believe you've already run into him even though you didn't know who he was at the time."

"Really?"

"Really."

"It's getting close to midnight. We need to go," Lily said softly. She gently hugged Harry before adding, "You may not have been my son but I do love you as if you were my own."

"And I may have only known you for three months but I still love you very much, my baby prince," Acelina said softly. "If you ever get to Gringotts, look up either Acelina Selene Riddle nee Prince or Tom Marvolo Riddle; either way, you'll get the results you need to prove that we are your parents. Goodbye, my sweet baby prince. I love you and I hope that you find your father soon." She then hugged Harry gently before kissing him on the forehead and then releasing him.

Then she and Lily vanished and everything around Harry went black.

. . .

When Tom dreamed, he never thought he would find himself in a meadow and definitely not with a very familiar woman sitting cross-legged across from him; her beautiful blonde hair fell in ringlets over her shoulder and down her back and her bright Killing Curse green eyes gazed unblinkingly at him.

"What are you doing here?" Tom asked, narrowing his eyes.

Acelina Riddle nee Prince simply raised an eyebrow at him, an action that reminded Tom of her cousin Severus. "It's Halloween. You know as well as I do that the barrier between the living and the dead is weakest today," she said.

"But why are you here?" Tom growled.

"And here I would've thought you wouldn't mind seeing your wife after so long, considering you blocked out all my other attempts to speak to you after you regained your body," Acelina said coolly.

"You're dead."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Acelina drawled sarcastically and Tom gritted his teeth; his wife's sarcasm was annoying. He barely tolerated Severus's sarcasm.

"Why are you here?" Tom asked after a few moments of silence.

"Now that was the question I was waiting for," Acelina said. "I'm here because, being dead, I know quite a bit like, for one, our son is alive."

A brief flare of hope went through Tom but he crushed it as he scowled. "That's not possible. The body…"

"…was a fake. Dumbledore transfigured something to resemble our baby's body after he killed me but it wasn't him. He kidnapped our son and placed him with a Light family in the hope that the boy would be raised loyal to him and likely be used against you. You must understand though, Tom, that the family who took in our baby didn't know he was kidnapped; they thought he was abandoned and an orphan and wanted to give him a home. Dumbledore insisted that they blood-adopt him so that it would appear as if they were his real parents on paper but that's not true and they now know it."

Tom narrowed his eyes but he couldn't exactly call Acelina out on lying; the dead couldn't lie and while Tom himself was immortal because of his horcruxes, he knew enough to know that much was true.

"What do you mean 'they now know it'?" he asked.

"They're dead too," Acelina said. "Tom, your son needs you. He was given to muggles and those muggles treated him horrendously. He was placed there by Dumbledore after his adopted parents were killed because Dumbledore wanted to keep him from you. If you don't believe me still then just go to Gringotts and you'll see that your son is alive. Though, because he was blood-adopted, he will have the name given to him by the Light family he was placed with but he will still have the name we gave him. I know you will be surprised by what you figure out but you know that goblins won't lie so long as they get paid and these kinds of tests cannot lie period."

"I know this," Tom snapped.

Acelina smirked as she uncrossed her legs and walked over to join Tom. She knelt down before him and placed a gentle, chaste kiss on his lips. "I love you, Tom. Go and find your son and heir and, for the love of Merlin, please at least narrow down the number of horcruxes you have."

Tom just smirked at his wife. "Do you honestly think I'll agree to that?" he asked.

"No but it never hurts to ask," Acelina said. She kissed him again before she stood up and faded away and everything went dark.

Tom blinked before opening his eyes and looking around, recognizing that he was in his private bedroom within Malfoy Manor. His main headquarters were at Riddle Manor in Little Hangleton but, occasionally, he would spend the night in Malfoy Manor because Lucius was one of his most loyal followers. Actually, out of all of his followers, Lucius and Severus were the ones he trusted the most; he really didn't care for some of others after he met and married Acelina, especially not Bellatrix since she had tried to curse Acelina during the wedding. So, frankly, Tom didn't care whether the Death Eaters in Azkaban got out or not.

However, spending time in Malfoy Manor meant that he was able to keep up to date with all the news that was coming through the Ministry.

Tom thought about his dream and wondered whether to believe it or not. He was leaning towards yes because he knew that the barrier between life and death was thin Halloween night so it really was likely that his wife would be able to speak to him. However, the fact that his son could be alive and had been placed with muggles after the family Dumbledore had placed him with was killed was something that was on the forefronts of his mind.

Tom may come off as a heartless bastard, especially since he threw around curses like someone would throw around candy and it wasn't as if he didn't have blood on his hands, he has killed before. He was nowhere near a saint but, when he was reborn, he decided that he would go about his 'take over Britain' plan with more Slytherin subtlety and thus was laying low and working from the shadows so that Dumbledore and the Light didn't know what hit them when he finally revealed himself and struck the final blow.

And yet only Tom's Inner Circle knew what he had been like when he married Acelina and when his baby boy was born; he wasn't a heartless bastard toward his wife and son and he would never lift a hand toward his son. Even with only half his soul—or only a small portion of his soul by the time his baby had been born—he did love his son and his wife; as much as someone with only a small portion of their soul in their body—or half his soul like right now—could love anyone.

Getting to his feet, Tom showered and dressed before leaving his room and heading down the stairs into the kitchen. Lucius was already up and he looked up before inclining his head respectfully in greeting; it was only when they were in Death Eater meetings that Lucius bowed like everyone else.

"My Lord," Lucius greeted him.

"Lucius," Tom replied.

"Do you need anything, my lord?"

"Not today. I am heading to Gringotts. There is something I wish to confirm. If it is true then I may need your help later," Tom said.

"Understood, my lord."

After making sure to eat, Tom left Malfoy Manor and apparated to Diagon Alley. He really did enjoy the anonymity that came with having a body no one would recognize, not even Dumbledore, though his eyes were unique enough that he avoided eye-contact with anyone lest they inform Dumbledore or anyone on the Light's side.

One of the goblins looked up as he entered Gringotts and came to a stop in front of the desk and sneered at him. "Can I help you?" he said snidely.

"Yes, I wish to speak to Silverclaw," Tom said in a clipped impatient tone.

"Very well," the goblin said before sending off the message and, a few minutes later, the goblin for all of Tom's vaults walked forward.

"Mr. Riddle," Silverclaw greeted him calmly aware that no one was around to hear him since he knew Tom wished to remain hidden for now. "What can I do for you?"

"I wish to speak in private."

"Very well sir. This way." Silverclaw led the way past the tellers to one of the private rooms and walked inside. Tom entered the room, feeling the goblin's privacy charms take effect as soon as the door closed behind him. Silverclaw sat down behind the desk before looking at Tom calmly, waiting for him to begin.

"I wish to see my family tree," Tom said.

Silverclaw nodded before snapping his finger. "I will need a drop of your blood to confirm your identity and access the family tree as per procedure," he said.

Tom said nothing but simply used his wand to prick his finger and dropped the blood on the parchment. The blood sank in before the parchment glowed and then was replaced by a family tree showing only Tom's magical side; the Gaunt family, the Peverell family, all the way back to the Slytherin family.

Tom was only interested in the more recent area and he immediately scanned the family tree before he came to where his name was.

Tom Marvolo Riddle m. Acelina Selene Riddle nee Prince

Alexander Kieran Riddle - Harry James Potter (Blood-adopted by James Charles Potter and Lily Rose Potter nee Evans)

Tom froze upon seeing the name right beneath his and Acelina's; first was the name that Acelina had chosen for their son but next to it was the name given to him by the Light family who blood-adopted him and…

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, is Alex? Tom thought incredulously. The boy whom was supposedly prophesized to defeat him, the boy that Tom had made the decision to convert to the Dark to turn the prophecy in his favor, was actually his son.

And Dumbledore knew it all along.

Tom was angry, no he was beyond angry, he was downright furious. How dare he? First he takes my wife from me and then he makes me believe my son is dead and gives my son to the very family that I would later target because of that damn prophecy…Merlin, I tried to kill my own son! he thought angrily before taking a moment to calm himself when his magic started to react to his anger.

Silverclaw just let Tom calm down himself and said nothing.

"Has anyone else seen this?" Tom demanded gesturing to the family tree he was holding.

"Only Albus Dumbledore, Mr. Riddle," Silverclaw said calmly.

Tom ground his teeth. Of course, he thought. He handed the family tree back to Silverclaw who snapped his fingers, returning the family tree to Tom's main vault before he stood up.

"Is that all?" Silverclaw asked.

"I have only one thing to add. No one is to know that I was ever here." Tom knew that there was no point in threatening goblins but they already knew he wanted to keep a low profile and, because they got a share of his gold, they kept his secret.

"Very well sir."

Tom turned and left the private room after another goblin who led him out of the room, fuming inwardly and plotting various ways to kill the bloody old man who took his wife and son from him.

His anger faded and his mind immediately began turning cogs in his head as he began to plan and the more he thought about what he could do with this information, the more he realized how utterly screwed Albus Dumbledore was. He didn't seem to realize that by placing Harry Potter with muggles, and muggles that abused him at that, would be counterproductive, especially when Harry/Alex found out that his father was alive.

A devious smirk crossed Tom's lips. Oh you will rue the day you ever crossed me, Albus Dumbledore, he thought.

. . .

A/n what do you think?

Blaze: okay, please don't be too harsh but this is my first Darkish!Harry fanfic ever mostly because I've read many of them and decided to see if I could write one myself

Darth: in this story, Voldemort/Tom is Harry's father and, yeah Blaze knows that Tom's son being kidnapped and placed with the Potters has been done before (so she doesn't own it) but she hoped she made it a bit more original in this chapter

Blaze: there will be allusions to abuse in this story, more than just neglect since I firmly believe neglect and emotional abuse leads to physical abuse and, in a way, is something Rowling may have glossed over in the books (in my opinion anyway) so this may or may not be canon, but that's why it's AU

Darth: also, Blaze will try to keep the characters in characters but she makes no promises that it will work so expect OOCness in some characters, especially Voldemort/Tom (hopefully he won't be too OOC).

Blaze: and there will be light Dumbledore, Molly, Ron, Ginny and Dursley bashing in this story, though it won't be too intense so you probably won't even notice it (primarily because I usually don't bash characters, except the Dursleys but I hate the Dursleys) hence why it's only light, except for, probably, the Dursleys

Darth: also, Blaze makes no promises that this will remain a dark fic since she has a tendency to turn dark fics into redemption fics (hopefully not in this case but we'll just have to wait and see)

Blaze: and this is also just a sample to see what people think about it and I may continue it, after I finish up the semester at my college. This chapter was actually written back in July but I just edited and decided what the heck? I'll just post it and see what people think about it. It will likely not be updated until the second or third week of December (same with my Yu-Gi-Oh! GX stories) but I just wanted to see if people would be willing to continue to read this story, based on this introduction

Darth: and, after that rather long-winded explanation, please review for they are much appreciated