The Dark Slytherin (Trilogy)

Prologue

Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter and all rights belong to the rightful author J.K. Rowling

It was October 31st,1981. It was a night of mystique where wizardkind celebrated the ancient festival of Samhain. A day of power where undead spirits rose and the rituals performed on this day reaped immense benefits. It was getting dark in the small town of Godric's Hollow, which got its name due to the famous and powerful warlock called Godric Gryffindor who was born here. Though it was initially occupied by wizards, it has become a muggle settlement now. the moon glittered through the shards of broken glass spread throughout the borders of the town for safety, the crunching of leaves is heard in the darkness as a man more snake than human walks through the worn-down path. This man has a flat nose with nostrils that are like slits. Crimson eyes and a pale snake-like body only add to the disgust that is seem on seeing this creature bearing no human resemblance. He sneers at the muggle children playing on the ground and they look at him and run away, intimidated. Darkness seems to cloak and embrace him, the shadows almost lingering for his malicious touch. The cobblestone streets slowly winded away as this man took a different path. He walks further and sees a small two-storeyed house slowly glimmering into view. "So this is the hideout of the Potters" he thinks. "What a pity they never joined my side. They would certainly have been powerful. If not for that Dumbledore, I would already have enticed countless people, but the people always listen to that old goat. Just because he is powerful does not mean that he is an angel." Voldemort did to some extent, have an amount of respect for Dumbledore. He admitted that Dumbledore could keep a stark reputation by keeping his hands and reputation spotless while manipulating his followers to do all the dirty work with ease. Next time I meet that goat, I am gonna shove his beard down his gullet."

Meanwhile, James Potter and Lily Potter had left a few minutes from the house. They had flooed to the Burrow, the family home of the Weasleys to attend a party thrown by them with the support of many members of The Order Of The Phoenix, the group organized by Albus Dumbledore to fight against the atrocities of The Dark Lord Voldemort, referred to as You-Know-Who.

Voldemort smirked as he blasted the door of the cottage down and saw that the protective wards around were weaker than the ones taught in the seventh year of Hogwarts. "Surely this is the folly of relying on only the Fidelius, which, although strong, has it own loopholes and weaknesses." While the dark lord was invading their home, the Potters were being stalled and manipulated by a specific friend of theirs at the burrow, namely- Peter Pettigrew. Voldemort smiled evilly with malice as he entered the house and saw everything neat and clear. With one incantation, he threw the whole place into disarray, every painting fell to the floor, every silver plate banged as it thumped on the cold stone ground. All the furniture was torn apart by a mysterious and invisible force. Cold water began to fill the whole room till it would submerge a normal man knee deep, it was cursed water, for the more people would try to move ahead, the more they would go behind. The water seemed to be held by a mysterious force, still and firm. Only one place remained untouched, the stairs that led to the second floor of the small cottage in Godric's Hollow. 

The stairs creaked as The Dark Lord walked on them and reached the second floor. He entered a small, dimly lit room, with the only source of light being some small enchanted candles, as their light glimmered on the windows and sent pale reflections on the floor. The dark lord stared at the two children, both awake. 

His eyes fell on the first boy, chubby, with light skin, a pudgy and round face and dark brown hair. Chestnut brown eyes filled with fear looked on at him. Definitely powerful, owing to his bloodline, but not on the level of some other wizards. He glanced at the nameplate, Julian Potter. The silence of the terrible night was broken by the shrill scream of Julian Potter as he started to cry. Voldemort looked at the second child. A thin boy with a chiseled face, dark eyebrows, tanned skin, and striking emerald green eyes stared back at him. There was an aura of power coming from all around him. He was definitely taller than his sibling, and maybe four years older. Voldemort felt the emotions of the child. Was that fear that he felt? No, the child felt merely wary of the Dark Lord. Voldemort's respect for the child grew as the child defiantly stared at his crimson eyes. "Now, what is your name, little child?", he thought as he looked at the nameplate on the bed- Hadrian Potter. Voldemort knew that this is the child that will bring his downfall. He looked on at the boy, though young, still stared at him with his eyes. Eyes that were bright emerald green. They reminded him of something. They were the color of the most lethal of all curses, the Avada Kedavra or the Killing Curse. The Dark Lord took out his wand and then whispered the incantation, "Avada Kedavra" A green light, almost like a serpent, sprang out of his wand and travelled at impossible speeds towards the child. Voldemort would always remember the eyes of the child as they stared at him, the way they stared unblinking as the curse reached the boy, and they way the calculatingly stared at him as the curse suddenly rebounded and hit the Dark Lord. 

A dark cloak and ash, that was all James and Lily Potter saw as they apparated in the children's bedroom from the Burrow when the party was over. They were in a shock to see the gruesome condition of the house. Dumbledore and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix quickly apparated to their little cottage. They quickly rushed the children to St. Mungo's where they were checked by doctors for any signs of possession or signs of dark magical backlash. They were quickly given medicines and healing spells by renowned healers were cast on them. Everything was fine, except for one thing, Julian Potter had a "V" shaped scar on his left cheek. It was in contrast to his pale skin. He was hailed as a hero and the "V" scar was proclaimed as "V" for "Victory". Julian Potter was a child celebrity. Not even two and everybody in Wizarding Britain knew his name. Cults were started on his name and people got his name tattooed on themselves. Everybody was so busy worshipping Julian Potter that they didn't even notice that Hadrian too had a lightning shaped scar on the side of his lower neck, which, though not too prominent would be visible to anybody who paid attention to the boys.

Writers from all over Magical Europe composed stories and poems for children on Julian Potter, how he single-handedly defeated Voldemort while  just a year old and how dark wizards quaked with fear when they heard the name of Julian. Feats clearly exaggerated and impossible were credited to be done by Julian Potter, and the Potters, namely James and Lily encouraged it. They spread more and more rumors and legends that people, especially children, began to view Julian as a god and their role model. Every year, on the birthday of Julian Potter, a grand gala fest was organized at Potter Manor where the most acclaimed wizards, even the Ministers Of Magic of different countries and nations were invited. Julian's birthday was declared a national holiday throughout Britain and people flocked in thousands near Potter Manor to see the national hero- Julian Potter, who was fondly nicknamed 'Jules' by people. Nobody remembered that there was a boy named Hadrian Potter, or that he and his brother Jules had the same birthday. 

Julian Potter was proclaimed a legend while Hadrian Potter was forgotten.

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