Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

AN: In the summary I wrote about Harry being evil in this story, but that depends on a point of view, in reality it will be more like Harry being machiavellian (very machiavellian).

This story is about Harry's first year. This story (book) is part 1 of Icy Heart series.

Icy Heart

Prologue. The prophecy

The house in Godric's Hollow was on fire. Tomorrow morning muggle newspapers would explain following flames as a result of an explosion of a gas lane under the house. Coincidentally news of countless flying starts all over the sky and other unexplainable occurrences would also flood the media. Only for wizards to share a good laugh at the muggles' frustration. On the other hand, how could anyone but a wizard know, that this night one of, if not the worst and most feared Dark Lord of the twentieth century fell at the hand of a one-year-old, namely Eric Potter.

By following morning every witch and wizard in Britain and in the world would know the name Potter, more exactly, Eric Potter. After all he somehow defeated the one, who was thought invincible to even death. The terror of Great Britain was destroyed by a baby. What no one would ever know, was that this very night was much more eventful than this. If one was a poet, he would say, that wheels of fate started turning.

By the following morning many things would happen: one prophecy would be proven true, another made, great man would make mistake and one child would be forgotten.

Albus Dumbledore was in his office, contemplating, thinking about the fall of Lord Voldemort. He has, with some minor degree of uncertainty, named Eric Potter the boy-who-lived. Really, the child was powerful, waves of magic were radiating from him and his scar had so much dark magic in it, that the aged headmaster didn't even want to remember that feeling.

"But what of the elder twin? What of Harry?" whispered voice in the back of his mind. "What of Harry indeed…" pondered Dumbledore. Harry Potter was not a weak child either, and even though it was very hard to grade a child's magical core due to its development, it was clear enough, that Harry would one day become a great wizard. Dumbledore could only hope, that this child would find it in himself to forgive him and his family for what they did to him.

The headmaster's musings were interrupted by wards flaring in a certain divination classroom. Dumbledore wasted no time and apparated there immediately – one of privileges of being a headmaster. What he saw gave him, one of the most powerful wizards in the world, creeps. Trelawney stood in the middle of the classroom with a far-away look in her eyes. She was already speaking in the harsh voice Dumbledore was all too familiar with.

"The cold Judge has come… A summer child with an icy heart… Abandoned, forsaken, forgotten… Beware, good and bad, the fate of the world is in your hands… Beware, for the trial has already begun… The cold Judge has come…" and then Trelawney blinked a couple of times, her gaze becoming clearer. "Oh, Albus, did you want something?" she asked joyfully, ignoring headmaster's shocked expression.

"No, thank you, Sybill." Dumbledore smiled, finally regaining his composure. "I just wanted to congratulate you. It is not every day, that the Dark Lord is defeated."

"Thank you, Albus!" exclaimed the professor. "Would you care for a glass of firewhiskey? I have already started…"

"Oh, no, thank you, Sybill," headmaster laughed just as joyfully as Trelawney, "I prefer my lemon drops." Dumbledore smiled at his employee. "Now if you will excuse me, I shall be on my way. Have a nice celebration, Sybill."

"Thank you, Albus! Don't forget to celebrate yourself!" were the last words Dumbledore heard before emerald fire engulfed him.

Upon arriving back at his office, headmaster promptly produced a pensieve of what he just saw and carefully placed it among his most precious ones. Nothing could stop him from collapsing in his chair after that. "The prophecy is unusually clear." Dumbledore mused. "We know what to do. The cold judge is a child, who must be raised as a decent human being and then this world would be safe. But who could this child be? Any child can be a cold judge…" he could not contain a chuckle. "Well, the child must be an orphan, if he is abandoned. But that's still too many children… On the other hand, why would the prophecy say anything about an icy heart?" Dumbledore huffed in frustration and ate another lemon drop.

Somewhere in Surrey a baby, who was sleeping soundly despite chilling November wind, was awakened by a woman's wild shriek.