Disclaimer: I'm only doing this once: I do not own any ideas you recognize, and if I used your idea, sorry. I might own any ideas you don't recognize.

In reading fanfiction for an extensive amount of time, I realized how crappy the stories have been getting, so I have decided to write my own. This story is based in more modern times, so everything is pushed back ten years, Harry's sorting is in 2001, and his incident with Voldemort is in 1991. This will be a Slytherin Harry, as I had hated DH: he kills Voldemort with one disarming spell?? That's the crappiest piece of writing I had ever seen. How can people like it? Harry in canon is about as strong as I picture Tom Riddle in his second year. That is pathetic. This story will have no Ginny or Hermione with Harry, and no slash pairings, unless for spur of the moment humor. This story will probably have a Harry/Daphne G pairing, as for some reason I love that pairing. There might also be some Ronald bashing, i just hate the guy and because the guy is a prick in book 3,4,5,6, and 7.

This story will follow the canon vaguely, but all the years will have many different events. This story is a Semi-Dark but not evil Harry, Gray/Grey Harry, and Neutral Harry. I might change the rating to M later, but not now.

The bitter October air greeted the trick or treaters on this Halloween night. A lone figure strolled up and he looked around the block, his eyes landed on a the fairly large house, which you wouldn't notice if you weren't looking for it, his eyes crimson as blood, shone brightly for a second as he walked to the door. "Alohomora," the door swept open, letting him get a view of the living room. The figure heard," Lily! Take Harry, I'll hold him off!" A messy raven haired man entered his view as he smirked," Potter, I have no time to play today." A hail of spells and curses came in his direction "Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Diffindo!!" the man cried, trying to buy some time.

The figure laughed as he waved his wand as a shield with a snake engraved on it materialized. The spells bounced off harmlessly.

The figure retaliated, and a curse came from his wand," Crucio!" The man jumped behind the couch. The spell had missed, but the man was already panting.

"Come out, come out Potter," he cackled, "Crucio!" The man cried out in pain as his body was lifted into the air, every muscle and nerve in pain.

The figure sighed," Unfortunately, I don't have time for this today, Potter. Goodbye, Avada Kedavra." The green light was pushed into the chest of the man, and his body was thrown against the wall with a thud.

He chuckled, Potter was too easy, his lifeless body slumped against the wall, and the cold hazel eyed man clearly was dead. The figure walked up the stairs slowly hoping to further scare the woman upstairs, the wards preventing the fiery red haired woman from escaping. The door swung open, the woman blocking the baby crib with all her pathetic love.

"Move aside mudblood, I just want the child." The woman cried," NO!! NOT HARRY, PLEASE, ANYTHING BUT HARRY!!" The figure sighed," Oh well. Avada Kedavra."

The jet of green light hit the woman in the chest, and she toppled to the ground. He walked to the crib, his red eyes glared into the baby's cool emerald eyes. "Well, young Harry, perhaps you would have been a formidable opponent, but this is the end, goodbye." He had mutual respect for the boy, the boy who didn't even flinch as he stared into his eyes. The figure sighed," Avada Kedavra." The jet of green light hit the baby on the forehead, but it didn't die down. The baby bathed in the green light before the light reflected back at the figure, creating a lightning shaped scar on the boy's forehead. Pain, pain beyond all imagining, as the figure's soul was literately separated from his body, the raw magics created an ember, and soon the house was on fire.

The motorcycle ride was something he could remember for the rest of his life, and what eventually persuaded him to learn to ride one. Years later he could remember a huge man carrying him, easily the tallest man he had ever seen. As the motorcycle landed an old man started to question the giant of a man.

"Hagrid, where did you get that motorcycle?" Dumbledore asked.

"Young Sirius Black lent it to me" Hagrid replied," I've got him sir."

They bent over and saw a sleeping baby, under a bang of silky black hair they saw a lightning shaped scar. "He will have that scar forever." The woman, later identified as Professor McGonagall, gasped. The giant man named Hagrid started crying, and gave the baby what was probably a very shaggy kiss on the forehead, and then started leaking tears.

"Shush!! You'll wake the muggles." McGonagall cried. The giant man sobbed," But I can't stand it!—Lily an' James dead an' poor Harry has to live with muggles-"

"It's sad Hagrid, but be quiet, or we'll be found." McGonagall patted him on the arm. The old man Dumbledore placed the boy on the porch, and took out a letter and placed it into the blanket.

"Let's join the celebration, shall we?" The giant man took off on the motorcycle, and he turned to the woman," I trust I will see you later, Professor McGonagall." the woman just blew her nose at him. He walked over to the middle of the street; his head turned back and whispered to the direction of the baby," Good Luck, Harry Potter." With a swish he was gone, claimed by whatever force had taken him.

As the green eyed baby slept on, on the porch of the house, chaotic forces struggled against the good inside his tiny head. The scar glowed, the dark green clashed with the pink. Emotions and personalities fought to control the baby, then, as the matriarch of the house appeared, the two colors faded to gray, a balance of light and dark, yin and yang.

He had no idea, for the next four years he would be that of a slave, and that at the same moment, millions of people over the world raised toasts to him and spoke in hushed tones," To Harrison James Potter, The boy-who-lived!

AN: This is the prologue, so the real story will start soon, and I will write longer chapters starting in chapter 1.