Really, this isn't a serious fic, only a light one shot that came to me last night and I figured it'd make for a funny Happy 30th fic. It is not meant to be taken seriously. But enjoy it anyway.

Summary: In which the twin really is the Boy-Who-Lived and Harry is not. Happy 30th Birthday, Harry Potter!

Spoiler Warnings: You have to know what Harry Potter is? That's about it.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Duh.

The house really was nice, Voldemort noted with disgust. Behind him, three of his loyal Death Eaters shifted nervously. What they were doing there, when the task was so obviously simple, they didn't know. The neighbors were ignoring the curiously dressed men and their disfigured leader, courtesy of a mildly cast Notice-Me-Not charm.

Voldemort opened and strode through the gate, much like he had with a nearly identical house almost two decades before-hand. Out of character, he pushed the little button that started a chime inside and waited patiently for its occupant to open it.

When it opened, the three Death Eaters nervously gripped their wands.

"Oh, I figured you'd show up one of these days."

The occupant was a young man, almost 20 years old. He had a shock of black hair, and emerald green eyes hidden behind black spectacles. He was lean, but not too thin. His hands were loosely at his side, no wand in sight.

"Harry Potter, I presume?" Voldemort said.

The young man's eyes twinkled. "Sort of. Would you like to come in?"

Now there was a shock, as they walked in. Not everyone would invite the Dark Lord willingly into their house if they weren't one of his followers, and even then, willingly didn't come into play.

He showed them into a sitting room and motioned for them to take their seats.

"I'll be right back."

He disappeared and reappeared nearly as quickly with a tray of tea. Almost by magic.

"Now, you're here, presumably, to murder me, provided I present a danger to your plans," he said mildly, pouring five cups and handing each over.

"Correct."

"Hmm. And this information came from?"

"Not necessary."

Harry swirled his tea a bit. "Would you like to hear a story? It's quite fascinating."

Voldemort shrugged.

"Very well. I shall start at the beginning. It's always the best place to start, you know.

"On July 31, 1980, two baby boys were born to James and Lily Potter. Over the next year and a half, one of the boys displayed accidental magic; the other did not. Concerned, James and Lily took their babies to a magical diagnostician. The only explanation, it seemed, was that during the pregnancy, one of the twins steadily sucked all the magical ability out of the other, leaving him worse than a squib. In fact, where even Muggles have the tiniest bit of magic, there was nothing but a void. Anything magical that came into contact with the child would simply disappear, as if swallowed into a black hole."

There was a slight clink as Harry set his tea cup on the tray and refilled it, refilling Voldemort's as well. The others declined.

"Now here's the most confusing part. On the night of October 31, 1981, you came to the Potter household intending on killing all because of a prophecy. Yes, I know about it too. How, it doesn't matter.

"You pointed your wand at James Potter and cast the Killing Curse. He fell to the green light. You made your way upstairs, where Lily was protecting the two babies. She too fell to the green light. You then turned on the children, huddled together for safety. But when you cast the curse, directing it at both children at the same time, it instead rebounded. It turned out that when you cast it the first two times in the house, the magic-less child's void-core had taken the energy in, so that the Potters were simply rendered unconscious. The third, however, was simply too much to bear as it was cast and overloaded the magic-less child, leaving him with a mark on his forehead. Before it rebounded, the magical twin too was hit, but the void made sure it was with only enough force to graze his forehead as well, leaving a near identical scar.

"When the Potters awakened, they found both children safe, crying, both with scars. In the melee, it was figured that one of the twins must have done it, but which one? To prevent embarrassment, it was decided that the magical twin was the Boy-Who-Lived. After all, to survive something like that must've meant that magic was involved and not the lack thereof."

There was a thoughtful pause.

"And so, it was determined that the non-magical twin would be sent to live with non-magical relatives. All magical records were wiped, the memories of any involved with the birth Obliviated.

"Vernon and Petunia Dursley were properly shocked when they found a baby boy on their doorstop in the middle of November. Upon reading the letter, which stated that the boy had no magic to speak of, and therefore wouldn't be a burden, as there would be a stipend provided every month, withdraw from a separate account, the Dursleys took legal steps to change his last name to Dursley as well.

"The years passed, and no hint of magic was performed. His eleventh birthday arrived; no letter from a funnily named magical school did. The Dursleys were so happy, so much that they allowed him to attend Smeltings, along with his cousin. Both graduated. One went to college, the other chose not to. The cousin is currently in a very high degree program, determined to one day own his own business, preferably not something to do with drills.

"The other, well, he elected instead to marry his high-school sweetheart. He works in a department store, just up the road; his wife works at the local gym and teaches yoga."

He smiled, dropping the pretense. "Funny thing, when we started dating, she mentioned she had a twin sister she didn't see very often. When I asked her why, she said something about not being able to attend the same special school. It turned out, she had the same issue I did, that of a twin who took all the magic, leaving her with a void. Of all the people in the world, we happened to be at the same school at the same time in the same country. Funny that.

"We had a magical person take us to a Healer, who determined any children we had would also be magically resistant. Whether that child would be as well or not, would depend on the person they marry."

The front door opened and a young woman walked in, one arm holding a small tote bag of groceries, the other a young infant, about the age Harry had been that fateful night. She froze at the sight.

"Oh, we have company," she stated redundantly. "You must be that Dark Lord my sister talks about." She set the child down, who toddled over to her father. He scooped her up, gave her a hug, then placed her at his feet to play with her toys. "I'll be in the kitchen." And she disappeared.

Harry turned his attention back to Voldemort. "I have a family and a purpose outside the magical world. So long as you don't attack my family, I won't be bothered with you or your ideals. Though I would like to know how my brother is faring."

"He has been raised believing he is the Chosen One that will stop me," mocked Voldemort. "Dumbledore has been training him for years. Every time I confront Potter, he seems to slip right through my fingers."

"Hmm, sounds like you have more problems than dealing with one magic-less family. If you doubt me, I'd even be willing to borrow your wand to cast a spell, provided, of course, I don't blow it up first."

"Not necessary," said Voldemort sourly as the child looked up at him with wide green eyes. She stared right back, then proffered a toy.

"No, sweetie, I don't think he'd like playing with a Barbie doll," said Harry patiently.

The girl withdrew the offer sadly.

"Now that you know the tale, I trust I won't have to worry about seeing any more of you?" said Harry, standing up.

Voldemort stood as well. "No, I do not think so, Mr.…Dursley."

And with a sweep of a black cloak, he left the room, his three minions behind him. Outside, there were four faint pops as they Disapparated.

Harry chuckled and kissed his daughter on her forehead.

"They just won't learn, will they?" he asked her. She burbled a response. "Let's help Mummy in the kitchen, then."

A few months after the Visit, Harry opened a copy of the Daily Prophet someone had been thoughtful enough to forward to him. On the front was his twin brother, smiling proudly at the camera as the headline boldly read:

"Chosen One Defeats You-Know-Who For Good!"

He bounced the baby girl on his lap as she drooled all over the picture.

"That's my girl!" he declared proudly.

All was well.

Just a funny fic that came to me. And I didn't give names to any non-canon characters on purpose. If you want a true WBWL story, there are plenty of good ones out there. If you enjoyed, leave a review, if you would, please. Makes the little flashes of brilliance seem to last longer.

~MM