Summary: Everything, particularly mistakes, have consequences. Those living in wartime are acutely aware of the fact, but do they truly understand? And are they ready to accept those consequences? Twin Harry story. He will be powerful. He will be skilled. He will be intelligent. And he will be dark. Oh yes. Everyone else will not be pathetic.

Disclaimer: I claim nothing! Nothing, you hear? It's all Rowling's!

Chapter 1: Default

The Dark Lord Voldemort's tall form strode confidently and gracefully down the country lane. The thick deep black robes cloaking his length from head to toe were heavily enchanted to be light and comfortable as well as heavily protective, allowing the gentle breeze to pass through and relax him. Bright scarlet eyes surveyed the running children with cool detachment and devilishly handsome features breathed in the magically charged evening air. Fitting that today, Samhain, would be the day he would meet his destiny and preempt that thrice-damned prophecy standing in the way of his plans; what with the energizing mix of Death and Life magic in the air- it was perfectly symbolic that the death of the prophecy child would ensure his survival and ultimate rule.

It was not reassuring that he had risen from his roots at the orphanage and being such a weak fool to becoming a giant amongst men-a polarizing force in the world and everyone, whether they revered or hated him, recognized him as being above themselves-to a baby killer. However, while not relishing the idea, neither was he particularly bothered. Emotions were for the weak, and he did not get to where he was by being weak. The children were a threat and their parents were enemies. Thus, they would be removed. Slytherin reasoning at its finest.

Clamping down on his thoughts the Dark Lord didn't even break in stride crossing the disgustingly muggle white picket fence and dispelling the perimeter alarm ward covered in the mudbloods magical signature with a few minute flicks of his wand that had suddenly appeared in his hand. Apparently being raised with muggles had saved her from complete blind faith in the old fool, but honestly a perimeter alarm? What part of Dark Lord didn't this woman understand?

Striding up the walk the Dark Lord could see the entire family playing merrily in the living room, as if they had nothing to fear in the world. Idiotic light wizards. Something unexpected happened, however-just as Voldemort observed the Potters, specifically the little one year old twins Harry and Casey, the little black haired boy looked up and caught sight of him as well. Quite remarkable, given how well he blended into the shadows (through a mixture of clothing and magic). After a few moments the child giggled and pointed at him. The overly exaggerated expressions of terror on the adults faces when they looked around were, in the humble and quite normal opinion of the Dark Lord, very humorous.

He saw the mudblood racing up the stairs with the twin boys and the father run to the entrance hall to no doubt try to stall him just as he crossed the last few steps to the door. A wordless violent diagonal slash of his faithful Yew wand sent the door blasting into the hall. Incidentally, James Potter, Auror Captain extraordinaire, had come flying in only to catch the door in a blow to the head that also sent him careening through the wall behind him. Snorting elegantly, the Dark Lord threw an incapacitating nightmare curse after him. That, coupled with head trauma, should keep him down until Voldemort was done here. Having slain Charlus and Dorea Potter months ago, along with the Potter ancestral manor, James now held the Wizengamot votes, and as such, was a prime candidate for the Imperious. He'd catch the Potter patriarch on the way out.

Following the magical presences he could sense the Dark Lord quickly located the nursery and entered just as easily. In her haste, Lily Potter had left her wand downstairs. A mistake she would pay dearly for.

"Stand aside, girl." Voldemort hissed in his cold, commanding voice laced with magic compelling her to obey.

Lily however had a strong mind, and would never dream of abandoning her boys. Instead she refused and begged him to take her in their place. Most likely believing her husband to be dead, he mused. Not that it would likely matter, love blinded and consumed the weak. Even the thought was thought with a profound and menacing sneer. Snape desired the girl, and his information was critical, so Voldemort rather thought that, as a Dark Lord, he had been perfectly generous with the offer. But his immortality, specifically the sniveling roadblock these infants potentially presented to it, was infinitely more important.

"Terebro" he hissed. The drilling curse caught her in the ribs and sent her sprawling off to the corner, unconscious and bleeding. Maybe she'd live, maybe she wouldn't. Whatever.

Turning to look at the twins, one of which was the child of prophecy, Voldemort considered which to off first.

The one with soft tufts of chestnut brown hair was bigger. Chubby, but in a cute baby way (not that that is how Voldemort would describe it) with blue-grey eyes he no doubt inherited from his grandmother on the Potter side who was a Black, you could already see the Potter features starting to shine through in his face. Once he grew up a bit and as long as he stayed somewhat-active he would be quite a charismatic young man like his father before him. The boys magic was already very strong- much more so than any of the children of his followers, but that was to be expected. In these boys the Potter and Black lines were mixed, both very old and both descended from different lines of the Peverell family- Potter from Ignotus the famous Artificer and Illusionist, and Black from Cadmus the equally infamous Necromancer and Soul Mage. When old powerful lines were infused with new blood the results were often awe-inspiring. It was the same phenomenon his own magic came from.

The younger, Harry, was noticeably smaller, but that was to be expected with twins. He was also the one not currently screaming his head off. Rather, he was examining the Dark Lord with curiosity sparking in startling Avada Kedavra eyes peering out through bangs of messy jet black hair. His eyes were not the only thing inherited from his, admittedly very attractive, mother. His features were sharper but at the same time smoother, more aristocratic. Well, as much as a one year old can be aristocratic. It was obvious to any who had seen the boys that Harry would one day be very popular with the ladies, a fact that had his godfather Sirius Black grinning like a loon whenever it was discussed. In fact, if his hair ever calmed, Harry could end up looking very much like the Dark Lord himself. Harry's magic was even more powerful, by a fairly sizable gap, and he had a much greater innate connection to it. It felt-different. The Dark Lord couldn't exactly put his finger on it. It was undoubtedly Potter and Black magic but there was more to it than that. And it was more neutral, more-free. Of course, all children are going to be mostly neutral, but the older boy, Casey, his magic showed much more influence from his family's light orientation. Nothing was set in stone, but Harry had absolutely no restrictions. He could go far. Such a pity.

Either way, the Dark Lord had always trusted his instincts, and right now they were screaming at him that this boy was important. Therefore, resting the tip of his wand gently on the boys forehead, the Dark Lord Voldemort said a sardonic goodbye and whispered the words to the killing curse almost lovingly, eager anticipation filling every inch of his being. And that's when it all went to hell.

Pain. Blindingly intense and absolute agony caught the Dark Lord completely off guard as he didn't even have the chance to register the flash of green before he was forcefully ejected from his body. In his independent training and studies during his travels, Lord Voldemort had utilized a time-turner to condition himself against pain. Mental attacks, physical torture, he could even shrug off the Cruciatus from all but his top followers. He could still throw even those off, but they at least required some effort. Nothing could have prepared him for this. In the mindless agony he didn't feel his soul fragment latch onto young Harry Potter; nor did he notice it when his wand, his constant companion since he was eleven, hit the floor and rolled under a desk to lodge in a small crack between the floorboard and wall, blending in perfectly and cast in shadow.

Quickly his spirit fled Godric's Hollow to be nearer one of his Horcruxes, get control of himself, and plan.

In the commotion that followed, little Casey Potter would be found awake, crying but amazingly alive. He would be unmarked, but coated in Lord Voldemort's magic, residue from the magical backlash. Harry would be found free of such magic, free of much magic at all really, although that would really just be momentary fatigue from blocking an unblock able curse. The curious scar on his head would be dismissed as odd because of Albus Dumbledore's desperate need for relief that the war was over, at least for now. He therefore wouldn't dig too deep, hailing Casey Potter as The-Boy-Who-Lived. The younger brother Harry would be pushed to the shadows, where five years later, he would find a wand…

A/N: this is a cliché (at least to start) twin Harry story. As such, he will be neglected and abused. However, as evil as his family will be, his mom will eventually come around, but not before Harry is established as fiercely independent and it certainly won't be all hugs and kisses. There will also not be any other siblings because if they're going to ignore one for the other, why would they have like 3-5 more? I've never understood that. Or when they send him off to the Dursley's for whatever reasons-then just have more kids. Seriously? Anyway next chapter soon.