Disclaimer: Surprisingly enough, I do not own Harry Potter.

Prologue / Chapter 1

Voldemort stepped back as Severus Snape almost collapsed, his master having just torn through his memory of overhearing the prophecy.

"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." The Dark Lord paced, seemingly unaware of Snape hovering in the background. "Only two couples have 'thrice defied me' . . . Tell me, Severus, are the Longbottoms or the Potters expecting a child?"

"Not that I know of, my lord," Snape replied after a short pause. If one looked closely, they would see his face had turned ashen.

Voldemort nodded, and motioned for Snape to leave him. He would have to keep an eye on these Order members . . . But wasn't Potter's wife a mudblood? Anything resulting from that coupling would be a half-blood as opposed to the pureblood Longbottoms . . . But, after all, as was he . . .

Over the next few months, the war progressed. Slowly but surely, victory by victory, the Death Eaters were taking over the country; the ministry was falling, and so when Bellatrix came rushing into the Dark Lord's headquarters shouting that "the Longbottoms have a child!" in the early hours of August, Voldemort smiled. He would kill the child - it was unfortunate that the Longbottoms were in hiding, but his spies would find them soon enough - and then there would be nothing standing in his way except Dumbledore.

Voldemort was unaware that as July ended, another magical child had been born; Lily Potter had been warned by an anonymous letter to keep any children secret, and so had kept her pregnancy and childbirth hidden.

However, the Potters were great friends with the Longbottoms, and tried to visit often; their sons, Harry and Neville, played together happily, watched over by Augusta Longbottom when the younger members were fighting.

So when, on Halloween night of 1981, Voldemort approached the Longbottom house - the fidelius charm was useless now he had tortured the secret out of the keeper - there were two boys there, guarded only by the aging Augusta.

The Dark Lord smirked as he realised the door was not even locked. He entered, scanning the room; Augusta was dozing in an armchair by the fire, while a dark-haired, slightly chubby boy played with the dirt from a flowerpot.

"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort hissed, killing Augusta quickly. The flash of light made the boy look up in interest, but he had no time to do anything but gape before Voldemort repeated the killing curse, watching in pleasure as the baby's eyes went blank.

Feeling his soul tear from the act, Voldemort took out the artifact he'd chosen to hold his soul from his pocket - a silver bracelet carved like a snake, believed to have been Slytherin's - and focused on moving a part of his soul into it.

But he hadn't realised how unstable and out of control his soul was; instead of making its way into the object, the piece of soul splintered off in another direction, heading towards the empty crib in the corner - no, wait, something moved - Voldemort stared in horror as he felt his soul piece bury itself in something else - someone else - and blinked as the face of another dark-haired baby, this one with thinner with bright green eyes, lifted its head sleepily to look at Voldemort. As he watched, a small, lightning-shaped scar appeared on the child's forehead where the soul piece had struck him.

As Voldemort was processing the fact that a child was now his horcrux, the floo lit up and James Potter stepped through.

"How've they been, Aug-" he stopped short and his eyes widened at the tall, pale figure standing in the middle of the room. His eyes instantly darted around the room, resting with anguish on the form of Neville before softening in relief as he spied his son standing up in the crib.

He didn't have long to be relieved before Voldemort's killing curse sped towards him, James barely managing to duck it. Frank and Alice Longbottom, followed by Lily Potter, tumbled out of the floo one by one, their faces going through the same emotions as James', although Voldemort noted with glee the absolute despair on the Longbottoms' faces.

The Dark Lord failed to notice Lily Potter edging towards her son as he dueled them, only realising what she was doing when she ran towards the floo, Harry in her arms. His roar of rage caused his three duelers to stumble back, and he narrowed his eyes in concentration, no longer playing. He took out Frank with an organ-expelling curse, easily hitting Alice with an Imperio as she stared at her fallen husband in disbelief. James was unprepared for an attack from Alice too, and was handicapped by not being able to hurt his friend.

"Bombarda," Voldemort whispered, and the floor underneath James exploded, killing both him and Alice. Voldemort's red eyes gleamed in triumph before he remembered his horcrux was gone.

The Dark Lord Apparated back to his headquarters and, in the night's meeting, gave the order to find and capture Lily Potter as soon as possible.

But in the months that followed, even as the Death Eaters took over the ministry, as Voldemort tricked Dumbledore into a trap and hit him with a withering curse, as Dumbledore died a year later - there was no sign of Lily Potter or her son.

And five years later, as Voldemort stood in Hogwart's Great Hall, the Lord of Wizarding Britain, his thoughts turned to the small black-haired baby.

He would keep looking. And Harry Potter would be found.

Or else.

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