Full Summary: Everyone knows how the Dark Lord Voldemort attempted to take over the world and was struck down by young Harry Potter, first when the boy was only a year old, and then again, permanently, 16 years later. But what if there had been a glitch in time. Something which was not intended by fate. What if Voldemort had been born many years earlier, long before the one who has the power he knows not could have stopped him. What if he won? What if the entire world had fallen to his knees before Harry had even been born. What if Harry had been born into a world where Albus Dumbledore was the most wanted man alive, just ahead of the rest of the Order of the Phoenix, while Death Eaters are the professors of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Not to mention the fact that the new Headmaster is none other then Voldemort himself! Could young Harry still save the entire world, when evil has already triumphed?

Shippings: Harry x Ginny, Ron x Hermione, Neville x Luna, James x Lily, Remus x Tonks, Draco x Pansy, and other more minor pairings.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters, themes, objects, places, and spells thereof are the complete property of the magnificent J.K. Rowling. I am but a humble fledgling who hopes to learn a bit from the master.

Prolouge: A World Torn Asunder

Albus Percival Wulfic Brian Dumbledore was not a man to be trifled with. Perhaps the greatest sorcerer in the world, once Supreme Mugwump and holder of the title of Order of Merlin, 2nd class. Everyone said that it would have been 1st class too if not for how things had turned out. The discoverer of the 12 uses of dragon's blood and associate of Nicholas Flamel, inventor of some of the most powerful alchemical artifacts the world has ever known. He was a kind soul and a mighty combatant when the need arises. There was a time when people thought that he was the only man who could be the next Minister of Magic.

Albus Dumbledor was also the most feared and wanted man in the world.

He remembered, better then anybody, the day that everything had gone to seed. He had been young then, comparatively, when he and his friend Gellert Grindelwald had sought out the means to change the world. To break it down bit by bit and then reform it in a better way. He had been arrogant and naive, and far to enamored with himself and his companion to question what they had been doing.

Still, when Gellert had begun killing innocents, Albus had wanted no part of it. Unable to fight against his friend of so many years, Dumbledore had simply let him go and became a professor at the most wondrous and magic place in the world. Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He never berated himself more then for the time that he wasted on such peaceful things, when he could have been fighting against the doings of his once friend.

It was during this period that he had first heard of Tom Riddle. The youth had apparently graduated from Hogwarts the year before Dumbledore had come back. From what he had been told, the boy was a child prodigy, perhaps as powerful as he and Grindlewald themselves. A boy of enormous potential, all gone wrong. After leaving school Riddle had sought out Grindlewald, and the older master had been so impressed by the boy that he had taken him in as his apprentice and eventual successor. Albus had not taken much heed to the boy then. He was after all, just the trainee. The professor recognized the potential danger, but it was not at first enough for him to act.

Finally Gridelwald's path of destruction had become too great to ignore. Dumbledor had journeyed out to Nurmengard to confront his friend. Why, he would ask himself years later, had he not gone a day earlier? Just one day, and all of this horror and chaos could have possibly been avoided.

For when Albus Dumbledore showed up in the base and prison of Gellart Grindelwald, something terrible had already occurred. He could still remember walking into the gray stone halls of what was once Grindelwald's castle, reading those words that he had come to regret so much etched across the arched doorway "For the Greater Good,". He thought that he had been prepared for anything. He could not possibly have been more wrong.

Grindelwald was dead before he had even arrived. It had not been his old comrade sitting on the dark throne of Nurmengard. It had been Tom Riddle, a wicked smile on his face, Gellert's elder-wood wand in his pale hands. Gellert himself was dead on the floor, his body twisted and mangled into horrible contortions.

Albus Dumbledore could still remember the words that Riddle had spoken to him deep within that ice-cold prison.

"Ah...Albus. I had wondered if you would show up eventually, although I admit I hadn't expected it to be this day, the day when I take my own rightful place as the Dark Lord of the wizarding world."

Dumbledore hadn't known what to say. It had been one of the only times in his entire life that he had been at loss for words.

Riddle had picked up on this, "Expecting to see that old fool Grindlewald? No. I have killed him and taken his place now. He was unfortunately not fit to command the wizarding world. Powerful though he was, he was a coward. No matter how I implored him, he would never even make the meekest attempts to control the keystone upon which all the future of our world rests."

Albus had overcome his initial shock, "Hogwarts." It was not a question.

"Yes, Hogwarts. He seemed to be afraid that you would be capable of destroying him. I tried to tell him that if he could not take Hogwarts, then his perfect utopia for our kind could never be accomplished."

"You call this a utopia Tom? Innocent lives are being destroyed every day. What perfect world order is worth all of that? What greater good can be achieved?"

Tom Riddle looked amused, "I have no interest in Grindelwald's quaint little dreams. I will take control of this world because I am the only one who is worthy of doing so."

"And what of the Knights of Walpurgis?" Dumbeldore asked, referring to the group that had followed Grindelwald so faithfully for so long.

"The Knights were starved wolves Dumbledore. They had not answered to their old master for many years. So paranoid had he become that he refused to speak with anyone save myself. I was the mediator, giving out Grindelwald's orders. Their unrest was easy for me to see. They could not tolerate Grindelwald's restrictions. His insistence that they only kill those who are threats to their order and no one else. His fear of going anywhere too near the British Isles. They needed a master who would feed their hunger properly, and allow them to do what they wished. Most have already been loyal to me long before now. Some even came here searching to be loyal to me without any care for Grindelwald at all. The Knights of Walpurgis are disbanded now, and reformed into my own servants, the Death Eaters."

Dumbledore had never been more exasperated.

"Tom-"

Riddle interrupted him, "I am no longer Tom Marvolo Riddle, Albus. I gave up my filthy Muggle father's name back when I was still in Hogwarts. For many years now, my new name has been the great and dark, Lord Voldemort."

The self-named Voldemort flicked his wand into the air. Out of the shadows of the stone pillars which connected the ceiling to the floor, a near two dozen witches and wizards appeared, each with their wand trailed on Albus Dumbledore. The time for talk was over. Dumbledore fought.

The Death Eaters were strong wizards in their own right, but it was quickly apparent that they were no match for the elderly arch-mage. Within a minute, they had fallen. Voldemort seemed unfazed, simply summoning more and more of his servants, each falling as quickly as the last. There was a single wizard who was capable of trading spells with Dumbledore for a brief moment before he too was hit in the chest with a stunner powerful enough to take down a three-headed dog. The man would likely never walk without a crutch again.

Finally, bored, Voldemort himself had joined the fray, proving that he was not as afraid as his teacher had been. Dumbledore had been confidant that he could win this duel.

He had made three miscalculations. First of all, he had assumed that the Knights of Walpurgis would be scattered across the land, leaving only a few handpicked bodyguards for him to dispose of before he went after Gellert. An easy force to overcome. But it had appeared that every Knight, now Death Eater, had gathered to watch the ascension of their new leader, and although this he could still handle, his magical reserves were not unlimited. He was exhausted by the time Voldemort attacked. His second error was that he had not expected the emotional upheaval of seeing his friend dead on the ground. It left him vulnerable. But the final and most troublesome of all his mistakes that day was really very simple.

Voldemort was more powerful then Grindelwald. He was fighting a loosing fight. He was forced to flee.

A present day Albus Dumbledore sighed as he walked through the streets of Hogsmede, searching for the pub and inn that his little brother Aberforth had built only a few years back; some time after Albus had become a teacher, but before Voldemort had taken over. When he located the pub he chuckled as he looked over a wanted poster that was pasted on the front door. A wanted poster with his face on it. It read,

Beware, highly dangerous and wanted wizard.

Wanted for conspiring against the Dark Lord and leading the rebel group known as the Order of the Phoenix.

If any information is known about he or any other members of the aforementioned group, please contact the Death Eater authorities.

Do not attempt to engage alone. Wizard is highly trained in all forms of combat magic and should not be approached without the aid of the Death Eaters.

Reward for knowledge on said criminal is 500,000 galleons.

Members and suspected members of the Order of the Phoenix are listed below.

In spite of himself, Dumbledore chuckled. It was nice to know that he was making some sort of an impact, no matter how small. He looked over the list of suspected and "confirmed" members of the Order and smiled in satisfaction at the names. Very few were accurate. Kingsley, the new recruit was on the confirmed list and the Longbottom family were suspected, but there was no mention of the Potters or young Sirius Black. Even Minerva was absent. And the names that were there Dumbledore mostly didn't recognize. He was sure that Mr. Stubby Bordman was a nice fellow, but he was certainly no Order member.

Actually it was on business for the order that he was here tonight. Albus slowly slid his wand into the sleeves of his robe where he could rapidly slip it out in case of an ambush, and pushed open the door to the Hog's Head.

The pub was predictably empty, with only a small, grungy looking man in the corner who was knocked out drunk, an large tankard of what smelled like Firewhiskey in his hand, half the beverage spilled across the man's feet.

The bartender quickly noticed Albus' presence, "Ah, yeah. She's in the back waiting for you Fireno, though I don't know what you want with her. She's a bit of an odd duck if you ask me."

Albus nodded, "Thank you Aberforth, it is good to see you again."

Aberforth Dumbledore waved off his brother with a grumble and Albus slipped into one of the back rooms. Waiting for him was a young-ish witch, probably no older then twenty or so, wearing incredibly gaudy robes, covered in bangles and sequins of all sort. On her face were a pair of unnaturally thick glasses which made her eyes appear to be much larger then they actually were.

She immediately sprang to her feet and spoke to him, "Albus Dumbledor!" she cried out, "How great of an honor it is to meet you. Of course I knew that I would, but still it is a great honor none-the-less!"

Dumbledor gave her a kind smile and nodded at her to sit down, "Yes indeed Ms. Trelawney, but I do ask that you not speak that name too loudly so close to Hogwarts. Even walls have ears you know. Here I am commonly called Fireno."

Trelawney's face turned a bright shade of fuchsia and she turned her head down, "Yes of course I am so sorry. I predicted that there would be no damage from that one outburst but I forget sometimes how to compose myself in among those who do not have the inner eye."

"Yes well, no harm done."

Trelawney seemed to brighten considerably and nodded, "Of course not. I believe that we are here to discuss my possible induction into your noble and secret organization."

"Yes of course, and I am always glad to see that there are still some people out there who are willing to forgo the easy route and aid the cause of the Order. However before you can join us, I need you to prove three things. First that you can indeed do what you claim to be able to do. Second that you are capable of handling the immense stress of the tasks that will be given to you. And finally that you are indeed loyal to our cause. You can understand that we can have no Death Eaters in disguise waiting steal our secrets or ambush us while we sleep. Though I am afraid that we seem to do little of that lately."

The would-be seer looked slightly nervous at this but her voice was collected, "Of course Dum-ah, Fireno. I can tell you now that I can foresee no possible future that would include myself breaking any bonds of trust with you or your Order. I despise the Dark Lord immensely. As for my abilities, I am sure that they speak for themselves."

Dumbledore gave her a weary smile and slowly nodded. Of course any Death Eater that wanted to infiltrate his Order would say much the same thing, and honestly he had so far not been impressed with her self-proclaimed abilities. She reminded him greatly of the Muggle gypsy fortune tellers that he had come across in his travels. Fascinating people, and usually kind, but not at all legitimate. This was beginning to feel like a waste of time.

Still, no one had ever accused Albus Dumbledore of being unfair, and this witch deserved her chance as much as anyone else. Reluctant as always, he reached out with a pair of mental legilimency tendrils and began to probe her brain. She didn't so much as bat an eye at his intrusion, which told him that she either had no occlumency defences, or was an impeccable actress. He asked her why she despised Voldemort, and then rather then focusing on her answer, which was a prepared speech about equality for all and other such things, he pulled the images that her mind conjured out and began reflecting on them.

He almost smiled as he saw how she had gone to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry not more then a few monthes ago when Voldemort has sent out word that a new divination teacher was required. She had been very sure of herself, but when she had met with Bellatrix Lestrange, the Death Eater whom Voldemort had assigned to interviewing potential candidates, she had been ridiculed and teased for her obvious lack of any talent, and then forced out without so much as an apology. This was about revenge to her.

A petty reason to want to join the Order of the Phoenix but in the world which they now lived in a petty reason was better then nothing. Her resolve was shockingly strong. Still, this girl was young and childish. Full of dreams and ideals and not at all suited to such dangerous business. He absolutely hated the necessities of the times which they lived. He tried to speak gently to her.

"Sybill...although I do admire your dedication, I am afraid that I cannot with good conscience permit you to be a part of such a dangerous mission. I am sure that there is plenty that you can do for us if you so wish from within a safer distance."

Sybill Trelawney looked devastated. "But! But, Albus I assure you that I am perfectly suited for danger and adventure! I am a seer after all! Would not you find the most use for me near you where you can be aware of everything that I can predict for you."

"I am sorry Sybill. I understand that you were hoping for a more active role in the possible defeat of Lord Voldemort, but I am afraid that as it stands our chances are very bleak. It would not be right of me to send you to such certain death."

Trelawney grabbed onto the sleeve of his robe in desperation, "But I can help you. I...I can fight and...and my inner eye can be an adviser to you and...and," she turned her head down and her body gave a very slight shake as though she were crying. Dumbledore couldn't quite make out the last bit of her sentence, but he could have sworn that it was something along the lines of, "and I don't want to be alone anymore."

The once professor sighed sadly. It didn't surprise him that this slightly bizarre witch was shunned in average society. It was one of the many flaws of most people, to look down on those whom they viewed as unusual. The exception to those rules seemed to be people like himself, who were powerful enough to be thought of as eccentric rather then crazy. Of course that was before the rise of Voldemort. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Sybill, please understand where I am coming from. You have so much innocence and life in you that it would be a terrible thing for me to break you down just so that you may fight in our wars."

That and he didn't feel that she could contribute anything at all to the cause. She wanted it so much, but she was very obviously not a real seer, for which her own probed mind could vouch, and she also had no defensive skills to speak of. Had she truly had one or the other she might be some use, and against his better judgement he would have to accept her simply on the grounds that they needed every usable wizard or witch that was willing. He was almost grateful that her total lack of talent allowed him to turn her down. He realized that she had gone very still, though still clung to his sleeve. He gently tried to slip his arm away from her grip.

"Sybill-"

Suddenly her light grip became very strong and her head shot up. Albus was shocked to see that her eyes were glazed over and she was staring at him intently. Before he could try and shake her out of whatever trance she had fallen into, she began to speak.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches,

Born to the ancient and forgotten house of the Lion, born as the seventh month dies,

And the Dark Lord will view him as a mirror and mark him as such, and the darkness will be great within him,

But in this reflection will be a light too pure for the Dark Lord to ever know,

If he can find this light, he will destroy the Dark Lord and his reign will come to an end,

But if it is hidden from him, then he will fail and eternity itself will never overthrow the shadowed king,

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born as the seventh month dies."

Sybill suddenly inhaled sharply and her eyes became coherent again. She gazed up at Dumbledore with imploring eyes. "Please reconsider."

Albus quickly scanned through her mind and was shocked to learn that she had no memory of what had just happened to her. Had it been a real prophecy? It seemed as though it had been. Suddenly Trelawney's situation had very much changed.

"Perhaps dear, there is a job that I may possibly have for you, if you will agree to come with me."

Trelawny looked overcome with joy as she spoke, "Yes of course, let us go at once."

Dumbledore helped her to her feet and smiled at the elated look on her face. If this truly had been a prophecy, then she must be protected at all costs. Suddenly there was a racket outside the door and Dumbledore whipped out his wand, preparing to curse any threat that came through the wooden barrier. The door slowly sung open to reveal Aberforth gripping the hands of a tall man with a hooked nose and oily, black hair by his arms, preventing him from reaching for his wand. The man wore the typical garb of the Death Eaters. Albus sighed.

"Severus, I don't believe that you were given an invitation to this little gathering. Had I known we were inturrupting you I would have schedualed for a different time or place."

Severus Snape glared at his through his heartless black eyes, "Didn't mean to impose. Just heard voices. Didn't hear anything that was said. Didn't know that it would be you."

Albus Dumbledore sighed again. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, "Severus I am sorry to say that I know very well that you overheard everything, and even if I did not I could not take such a chance. Surely you realize that. This information is something that I cannot allow you to bring back to your master."

Snape sneered at Dumbledore and dropped his ruse.

"I am sure that you feel that this is a victory for your side Dumbledore. But it changes nothing. This child who can vanquish the Dark Lord will never have the chance to do so."

Dumbldor nodded and slowly lifted his wand, placing the tip near Snape's forehead. The greasy man paled, "You...you wouldn't. You aren't the kind to-"

"To what? Kill you?" Dumbledore's voice was surprisingly devoid of emotion, "And why shouldn't I? You are a killer yourself are you not? Would not killing you prevent you from killing more in the future?"

Snape opened his mouth to retort but no words came out. Truthfully he could think of no reason for this powerful Wizard not to kill him.

"But you are right." Dumbledore answered, "I am not one to mercilessly kill you, and the death of one of Voldemort's most renowned subjects would stir up more trouble then the Order is prepared to deal with. However I still cannot allow you to bring this to your master."

Dumbledore took in a deep breath and let the magic flow to the tip of his wand. Sybill Trelawney looked shocked and horrified by the entire scene that was unfolding before her.

"Obliviate!"

James Potter stood beside his wife Lily and watched as she clutched their newborn son, Harry, to her chest. In spite of what was happening, he couldn't help but smile as he watched her firey auburn hair cascade over Harry's face. The tiny baby wrapped his chubby little hands around two strands of his mother's hair and tugged at them playfully, laughing that sweet musical laugh that only babies seemed capable of producing. James chuckled.

"There, you see dear. Harry isn't worried, and neither should you be. This is just a routine ceremony and nothing is going to happen."

Lily turned to look at him and gave a half-hearted smile that didn't reach to her eyes. She was still worried.

"I just have this feeling that something is going to happen today. Something more then just...I feel like we should leave. Run from here."

James placed his hands on her shoulders and tried to comfort her. "I promise that everything will be alright. If we run then that just incriminates us and they might suspect that we are members of the Order. Voldemort will never allow us or Harry to live if we attempt to run."

Lily nodded her head but she didn't look convinced, "I just...have a bad feeling about this."

James was unable to respond as a short, heavyset man in a black cloak opened the flap to the tent that the Potters were currently in and spoke. "Mr. Potter, we are ready for you now. You may bring your son in." The man's eyes flicked to Harry for a brief moment and he appeared to attempt a smile but only managed a sort of grimace. Lily glared daggers at the man but shifted Harry into James' arms and stepped back. Harry's eyes followed her for a moment and then shifted to his father, a look of confusion on his face as if to ask 'where is mommy going?'. James chuckled and followed the cloaked man out of the small tent and into Diagon Alley.

There were dozens of people outside, all heading towards the same place, creating a small crowd. There were no women in this group, only men, and each man had a baby with them, just as James had Harry. None of the children were older then a couple months. They were all lining up in perfect rows and collomns, apparently waiting for something or someone. James noted with disgust that a decent few of these men looked excited, even giddy at the prospect of what was to come. The majority seemed impassive, and perhaps a little bored, but only a very few seemed as nervous and upset as James felt.

He knew whom they were all waiting for of course. This was something that Voldemort had set up very soon after he had taken control of the wizarding world. Once every three months, every wizarding family who had produced a child during that time would be called out and brought to this short ceremony, during which, Voldemort himself or one of his followers would come out and greet all of the newborns, most of the time just glancing over and nodding at each one but occasionally stopping to touch the infant's forehead, which they called blessing the baby.

There were multiple reasons behind this little procedure, the main one being to bring everyone together momentarily so that Voldemort or one of his followers could scan their minds, thus weeding out any who had rebellious thoughts. In a similar vein all Order members were shielded with Occlumeny, but their infant children were not, and occasionally a member would be sloppy enough to allow their infants to see something that the babies did not understand, but which Voldemort could use to discover those members. It also served to reinforce the general public's infatuation with their "Dark Lord", showing them that he was such a magnanimous fellow that he would take time out of his busy days to meet with children who were so decidedly beneath him.

James was desgusted by the whole thing, but he forced his face into an apathetic expression and walked over to take his place in line. Harry, he was certain, had not seen anything that could give him away, and so his only care was to get this over with as fast as possible.

No sooner had he stepped into place then a large podium appeared as if out of this air in the middle of the alley, conjured by some Death Eater James was sure. A tall figure with billowing black robes stepped up onto it. James was slightly shocked when he recognized this figure as Voldemort himself, red eyes glowing from underneath a hood that obscured most of his serpentine face. James had been told that Voldemort himself was not coming to this particular ceremony, which was not an uncommon thing; He was often too busy with other things, in which case he would have one of his star Death Eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange or Lucius Malfoy, carry on in his place. Obviously Voldemort had changed his mind at the last minute and decided to come to this one.

The red eyes scanned the crowd and gave then a quiet nod. The crowd seemed to take this as a sign of approval and a decent few of them erupted into applause. James felt like puking.

Voldemort raised his hands into the air and immediately the cheers fell silent. The Dark Lord's low, sinister voice called out across Diagon Alley, "Present your children to me!"

James took in a deep breath as he watched father after father walk up to Voldemort, who would almost invariably stare at the baby for a moment, give a nod, and then watch the parent walk away. Occasionally he would take a moment longer to stare at the child then usual, which James knew meant that he was truly taking more time to scan through the mind of the parent and child, and once he even reached down to touch the forehead of one of the little ones, the father of whom James immediately recognized as Lucius Malfoy. Most members of the crowd that had already been viewed all flocked to Lucius and his young son, who was apparently named Draco.

The only other incident of note was when Frank Longbottom walked up to Voldemort and presented his own young son, Neville. Unlike the Potters, who had managed to stay under the radar totally, the Longbottoms were suspected as having connections to the Order. James held his breath as Voldemort took an uncomfortably long time staring at the two of them. Frank was a strong Occlumens, but had he allowed Neville to see anything that could be used against them? After what felt like forever, the Dark Lord dismissed them and James let loose a sigh of relief, which fortunately was not noticed by anyone. He reinforced his Occlumency shields.

Finally it was the Potter's turn. James glanced at his son and slowly but confidently strode up to the podium, before holding Harry up and falling to one knee, as was customary. He immediately felt Voldemort lashing into his mind with Legilimency, only to be buffed back. James knew that this alone would not turn suspicion on him. In today's age a decent few people knew Occlumency, considering how many of the Death Eaters knew Legilimency. Black market dealers, people with connections to muggle-borns that they don't want brought to light, or just people who have enemies in this world, all study Occlumency. What was more unusual was the fact that anyone could reject Voldemort himself, but even that was only indicative of great talent and nothing to be suspicious about. If Voldemort attacked everyone who was an Occlumens in this day and age, then he would have wiped out over a fifth of the worlds wizard population.

Still, as James Potter felt the tendrils of Legilimency leave his own mind, he knew that they were now directed at his son and he began to sweat. How dare this man enter a childs mind like this!? How dare he assault the single most pure and innocent thing that existed in this world!? James gritted his teeth but forced himself not to let any of his disgust show outwardly.

James saw Voldemort move and relief flowed over him as he realized that it was over. His legs prepared to rise until he saw that Voldemort was in fact not dismissing them. The Dark Lord was reaching his hand down, his pale white, bony, and unnaturally long fingers prepared to brush against Harry's forehead. Jame's breath caught in his throat and he froze, his entire body tensed and ready for anything.

Little Harry watched as the frightening man reached down to touch him, not quite understanding why everyone was being so uncomfortably silent. The man's glinting red eyes reflected Harry's own green ones and the little boy giggled slightly at the funny effect of it. The man's hand froze for a moment and he looked mildly surprised, but then continued to move towards him. The man was very annoying to Harry, but also quite fascinating. He couldn't take his eyes off of him. He stared defiantly into the snake-faced man's eyes as if to show that he was not afraid of him, and reached out to try and bat away the man's outstretched finger.

He missed, and Voldemort's finger brushed against Harry Potter's forehead.

Harry Potter's eyes were set in anticipation as he waited by the windowsill of his room in the Potter Manor in Godric's Hollow. His bright green eyes glinted back at him in the glass window, it's impressive sheen a testament to the magnificent House Elves that worked at the Potter's household. He supposed that most Wizard kids his age were doing the same, because some time this week he should be getting his letter from the place that he longed to go to more then any place else in the world. Somehow he knew that it would be today that he received his owl from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Of course his own excitement was not for the same reason that most of the other children were excited. They all were excited at the prospect of learning magic, but he didn't need a school for that, he had been given tutoring from someone far beyond the capacity of anyone at Hogwarts for years. He wanted to go for a different reason. When he went to Hogwarts, he would finally be able to do something to aid Mother and Father and Uncles Sirius and Remus and the people who they worked for. When he went to Hogwarts, he would finally become an official junior member of the Order.

"Will young Master Harry please come down for breakfast," a voice behind him interrupted him from his thoughts, "The mistress has been waiting for you for the last half-hour."

Harry turned to view a House Elf that looked as though he must have been at least 500 years old, with a pointed nose, ears that were so long that he folded them into a sort of hat, and a wrinkled old face that would have looked very severe if not for the warmth in his eyes. He wore a patchwork quilt vest that seemed very luxurious compared to what most House Elves wore. Harry had been told that he had originally be owned by his own great-great-great grandfather, Amadeus Potter.

"Good morning Rudolph." Harry replied cheerfully as he gestured to his pajamas, "Tell mum that I'll be down in a minute. I just need to get dressed."

Rudolph gave a slight bow and retreated from the room. Harry chuckled. Rudolph was a very kindly House Elf but he was a stickler for the rules, no matter how much Mum and Dad and him told him to ease up a bit. Still, he was very kind to Harry and Harry adored him.

Harry quickly slipped into his day robes and dashed down two steps of stairs to the kitchen, where his mum was busy fixing up some pancakes alongside the other House Elf of the Potter's Manor, Ninny. His mum looked up the moment he walked in and smiled at him, "Good morning Harry, sit at the table please, breakfast will be finished soon. Did you remember to do your exercises last night?"

Harry nodded happily as he gave her his 'good morning' reply and plopped down at the round mahogany table. He heard footsteps behind him and turned his head around just as a strong hand reached down to ruffle his hair, "Mornin' son." his dad said as he sat down beside Harry, "Ready to join the big leauges?" he asked with a smirk, "We're meeting up with the Weasleys today, and you and Ronald will be walked through the general rules of how things should be conducted at Hogwarts."

Harry rolled his eyes, "You've told us a thousand times already." he replied, "I know it all by heart by now."

James Potter nodded, "Yes but with this you can't ever make mistakes, you know that. Remember what happened with Avis' son when he slipped up and allowed one of the Professors to find out what his dad was?"

Harry's eyes fell and he nodded. Stephen Avis was a nice boy, almost 4 years Harry's senior and very clever, but he had been far too blase' about everything and had paid the price for it. Harry now felt guilty over making light of what his father was telling him.

"Hey don't worry son. You have nothing to worry about so long as you keep vigilant about it all. Remember", he pointed to Harry's forehead, "You have an advantage."

Harry nodded as he turned to view his reflection in his spoon. His long, black ruffled hair which always seemed to stick out in every direction no matter what he did to it was totally identical to his fathers, as was his thin stature and face. His green eyes that shone so brightly that it appeared as though someone had embedded emeralds into them belonged to his mother. These were all normal enough. What drew his attention was on his forehead, positioned directly above his right eye. A long, thin, lightning bolt shaped scar. He knew well the story of how he had aquired this scar, as did most everyone else. This he had gotten from someone much less pleasant.

His father had told him the story.

When Voldemort had reached down to touch his forehead so many years ago, something had happened that no one had been able to explain. A magical reaction that had caused something to spark out of the Dark Lord Voldemort's hand and create a connection of electrical magic energy between the two of them for just a brief moment. The resulting flash his dad had told him, nearly blinded him. When the light had vanished, the only thing that showed that it had ever been there in the first place was a large and painful looking gash across Harry's forehead, though surprisingly the baby had not cried. Voldemort had been shocked at first, gazing intently at Harry, but eventually had come to a decision.

There, in front of everyone at the ceremonies, everyone who had brought their children, and all the hundreds of people who had come merely to watch, the record keepers and journalists, the enthusiasts and the average wizard who had simply gone to Diagon Alley to pick up some potion ingredients, the Dark Lord Voldemort had announced that Harry had been marked. Chosen by fate to become his prodigy, and eventually to stand at his side as the second in command of the entire wizarding world.

Every person in the world now knew the name of Harry Potter.