A/N: This is my first story so be gentle please. This is a short prologue and the first chapter. The next chapters will be longer I promise! ^.^

Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.K Rowling's characters, settings, or plot lines… (Wish I did) and the idea for this story came from PlotBunny2010, who very graciously allowed me to write it.

Thought = blah

Speech= "blah"

Prologue: The Beginning

As humans mature it tends to slip their minds that they too, were once toddlers. They forget that while having limited mobility skills, a young child still has a very sophisticated view of the world around them. The night Harry Potter's parents were murdered, he was just one year of age. At the time, he heard the cry of his father, James, as he fell, and he inhaled the warm vanilla scent of his mother as she swept him out of his crib and pressed him to her chest long after they had usually gone to bed. Already he was slightly confused at this break in their normal bedtime routine, even more so when he saw a man he'd never seen before, as he peeked over his mother's shoulder, point the same stick his mommy and daddy used to make sparks for him at his mommy and say Avada Kedarva in a voice that sounded almost like a hiss. Harry felt himself drop back onto the soft green covers in his crib as his mommy fell to the floor. He rolled over to try to look at her but she wasn't moving anymore. The man dressed in black picked him up and looked him over as Harry did the same. The stranger didn't look nice, was his first thought, he wasn't smiling and hands didn't feel warm like mommy's and daddy's did.

The man pointed the stick at his face and Harry giggled childishly as his eyes crossed trying to keep the tip in view. He heard again the hissed Avada Kedarva and saw a flash of light so bright it hurt his eyes. He wailed once as he again fell into his crib, as the darkness crept upon the edges of his vision, as it all went black. It would be a very long time before he would speak again…

Chapter 1: The Dursleys

He was standing in the middle of a large oval field. Towering stands rose above him as he spun laughing in place. He loved it here! The sky was the brightest blue he'd ever seen, there was a gentle breeze causing the grass to tickle his ankles, and there were the flying people again. The flying people weren't there all the time, so it was special when they showed up. They were almost always wearing a bright color as they zoomed high in air, leaving him to watch carefully for the flashes of different colors as they passed each other.

All of a sudden the ground began to shake and the colorful flying people disappeared. He stumbled and hit the ground as the shaking increased. "GET UP THIS MINUTE YOU LAZY SLUG!" What? Harry opened his eyes to see the usual dull wooden beams of his cupboard. He glanced to the side at the door as his Aunt Petunia banged on it harder. "GET UP!" was yelled a final time and then retreating footsteps were heard. I'm up, I'm up, you old hag. Harry felt in the semi-darkness for clean clothes. Pulling on an old shirt and trousers, he climbed out of the cupboard to make breakfast, as per usual.

He relaxed a little once he was in the kitchen, the bacon and eggs were perfect, the toast was also perfect. He set the table neatly and efficiently before retrieving the pan to start prodding out the food just as his Uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley lumbered into the kitchen. Dudley was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a meaty hand and Vernon looked a bit disappointed that nothing he could see was out of place, giving him no reason to punish Harry for anything. He thudded down into his chair, which creaked rather alarmingly, as his miniature counterpart did the same resulting in a slightly less ominous creek. That doesn't sound good. Harry thought as he carefully placed the toast, bacon, and eggs onto first his uncle's then his aunt's plates.

As he went around the table to Dudley's side (and yes he did have a whole SIDE to himself) he saw a nasty gleam in his cousin's eye that did not bode well for him. With growing apprehension, he leaned over Dudley's shoulder and was more resigned than surprised when he was suddenly elbowed in the stomach. What Harry was not expecting, however, was that as he fell backwards to the ground, the frying pan and its contents would come down on top of him or that when he hit the ground his arm banged against the leg of his cousin's chair (which had put up with quite enough to this point, thank you very much) which caused it to collapse with a snap, which then caused the whale of a boy to fall on top of him.

Harry wheezed on the ground, staring at the kitchen tiles. This isn't going to be a good day. As his aunt pulled her "little Duddley-wuddley" to his feet Harry staggered upright and leaned against the wall, coughing. It was hard to breath and the underside of his arm felt like it was on fire. He glanced down to see it crossed with still sizzling bacon grease. Great, just great. He gritted his teeth against the pain, and attempted to sneak out the kitchen door, hoping that his relatives would be too preoccupied with Dudley. A few more feet, just a few more feet…

Sadly, it was not to be. "Boy!" came the roar. He winched slightly, this was going to be bad.

"Look at what happened to Dudley because of you clumsiness!" MY clumsiness? Harry glanced around his uncle's bulk at Dudley, he looked fine, in fact, he was sticking out his tongue at him behind his mother's back while she was getting him some cake for being such a brave boy.

"What's the matter with you boy? Aren't you going to apologize to your cousin?" Why? "Or to your aunt for messing up her nice, clean kitchen?" Why? he thought again. I cleaned the kitchen the last time and the time before that and the time before that too. And I'll be cleaning this up as well. My arm hurts, I want to leave. Harry decided it would be best to just keep a blank face until his uncle wound down. He knew from multiple past experiences that doing or showing anything remotely resembling insolence only made it that much worse.

"So boy why don't you go over and apologize!" and he was shoved, none to gently, toward the table. Harry stood there for several seconds, wondering how to best go about getting himself out of this. I wonder what he is expecting this time. floated vaguely across his mind.

"Go on, say something. Anything at all." his uncle taunted him. Ah, so that's what he's after. Harry's expression changed minutely to reflect polite interest in his surroundings. He stared at his uncle and Vernon stared at him, each waiting for the other to break. Harry began to discreetly rub his left arm, hoping to elevate some of the burning sensation. It did not.

"So, you still won't admit your mistake?" Vernon asked, somewhat rhetorically. That is moot point, Harry thought disgusted, It wasn't MY mistake and you know full well that I can't speak. And even if I could I wouldn't talk to a pig like you, he added as an afterthought.

"If a bad child won't admit his wrongs, then he must be punished," Vernon started, sounding slightly calmer, though wheezing slightly, likely from the exertion of shouting at Harry. Oh, like being crushed by your obese whale of a son isn't punishment enough. "go to your cupboard. No lunch or dinner until I decide you've truly repented your actions. Do you understand me boy?" How about breakfast? Harry nodded slightly, not breaking eye contact. "You're just lucky that Dudley was not seriously injured." Harry glanced over at Dudley again. He was apparently in good enough heath to demand ice cream with his cake.

Harry left the kitchen without any resistance and did not bother to bang on the door when he heard the lock click after he crawled in his cupboard. He sat in the middle of his ratty blankets, tucked his knees under his chin and wrapped his arms around his shins protectively. It's not fair! It's just not fair! His arm burned and his chest ached strangely and he was more than sure that he wouldn't be eating for a few days. He knew he had two slices of bread, a bottle of water, and an orange stashed under a loose floorboard that he slept on top of. They used to be kept on top of a board that ran across the bottom of the stairs, but ever since his uncle had 'accidentally' found his last emergency rations, he'd been forced to improvise since now his uncle has taken to conducting 'utility searches' at random, apparently checking for stolen goods.

Harry grinned, amused at the thought of him as a thief. I did everything perfectly! It wasn't my fault! I try my best but even when everything seems to be going right something just has to happen to make things bad for me. Like that time he'd been running from Dudley and his gang at school; he was almost home free when he saw a garbage can to jump behind but when he jump he'd somehow managed to land on the roof. Or the time where aunt Petunia had given him that embarrassing hair cut, shaving him almost bald but leaving his bangs to "hid that horrid scar." He'd dreaded going to school the next morning and having people laugh at him, but to his surprise, when he woke up it was entirely back to normal. Or the time when - he stopped and mentally shook himself out of it. I didn't do any of that on purpose! It just sort of happened. he trailed off into thought.

Frowning he opened his mouth and tried to talk yet again. He could feel his mouth and throat moving but for some reason no matter how many times he tried by himself, he just couldn't get the sound to come out. He'd tried to learn sign language once, but Uncle Vernon had put a stop to that quick enough. For one thing, he said, it was a sissy language and he refused to pay for his nephew to have lessons or even buy him a book so he could learn on his own. So at school he had a very nice aid that read his lips and told the teacher what he said. It was easier but a bit irritating because it felt like he just had to repeat himself day after day after day. Outside of school, people just tended to think that he was quiet and shy, since he mostly just nodded yes or no to asked questions and occasionally shrugged when he didn't know. It did get on their nerves after a while and his description changed from quiet and shy to inverted and antisocial. Harry didn't particularly care one way or another but it did irritate him when people wouldn't quit trying to get him to talk. He felt like shouting "Don't you people get it? I can't, I really can't!" But in the end he just stood there, silent as ever.

Lost in his thoughts he stopped and concentrated on what sounded like white noise in the back of his mind. After a second it abruptly came into full focus.

What is happening? How long have I been gone? What is this? Where am I? What is going on? In a generally string that occasionally repeated.

Hello? Harry cautiously ventured. Who are you?

The voice fell silent for a moment, and then came a guarded Who speaks?

I do. Harry ventured. Who are you? Why are you in my head?

The voice was silent again. Why are you in my mind child? Do you not know who I am?

If I knew who you were I wouldn't be asking, Harry was a little miffed and hoped that went along with the words, and I asked you first.

I am the most powerful dark wizard of all time. The voice sounded smug and confident that Harry now knew who he was.

Harry thought for a moment. The only wizards he could remember were the Mickey Mouse one in Fantasia and the ones in library books. Oh, so like Mickey Mouse?

Who is this mickey mouse? I have never heard of such a wizard. the voice said.

How can you not have heard of Mickey Mouse? Harry was a little horrified. Even he knew Mickey Mouse from the television shows Dudley watched every day of the week. Geez. Where did you grow up? The voice had to be worse off than him.

The voice did not bother to answer his question. Listen to me child. The voice did not sound happy. I am the greatest dark wizard of the era and you will answer me. I am Lord Voldemort!

Never heard of you.

Wha-? How long could I have been gone to have children not know of my existence? The voice did not seem to be addressing this toward him, but Harry thought it'd be nice to answer anyways. This was his first time actually talking to somebody and he was the most happy he'd ever been since he could remember.

Well when did you leave?

The voice was silent, apparently thinking something through. Child, are you a muggle or a Squib?

Harry could hear a certain amount of disgust directed toward the latter option. He didn't know what either of them were so he asked What's a muggle?

The voice did not reply again. Harry waited but it still didn't come back. A little worried he concentrated harder. How could this be? A muggle born maybe? How can he be connected to my conscious though? It seems impossible.

Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt you, but are you crazy?

What do you mean?

I mean, normal people can't hear me, and nobody I know has ever said, muggle, or squib, or claimed to be magic. Well our neighbor once did, but some men came and took her away. My aunt and uncle said it was because she was crazy.

If I am crazy, then you are too for being able to hear me. No one has heard me for a very long time.

Harry pondered this notion briefly. I-

There was a loud BANG on his door that made Harry jump. "Boy!" He heard his uncle roar. "Get out here and cook us dinner!" Yeah, I'll get right on that.

What was that?

Just my uncle. I don't see why I have to make dinner if I don't get to eat any of it.

Why not?

My cousin pushed me and then he fell too, and I got blamed for it, so I don't get to eat for a while. Harry had been living with the Dursleys so long that this made perfect sense.

The voice did not bother to reply. Guess he didn't particularly care about Harry's problems. Harry shrugged and clambered out of the cupboard to make dinner.

Tom.

What? Harry opened the door to the kitchen the second time that day.

You may call me Tom.

Okay then. Isn't that a much nicer name than 'Voldemort'? He started to wash the vegetables, then cut them cut neatly and efficiently.

There was no answer.

Talk to you later Tom. Harry Potter had work to do.

A/N: Kinda crappy ending I know, but I wasn't sure how to end the first chapter! Second chapter should be longer and out in one week. Hoping for consistent updates. Review! It is what gives me the energy to keep writing at 11 at night. The more reviews I get, the faster the chapters come out! XD