The boy who lived; the ruins of family

the name.

(I'm aware I said I might not cover this, but of well. Motivation)

Sweet little Harry had been at the riddle manor for a few weeks. Almost immediately at his arrival, voldamort had fashioned a beautiful nursery. It didn't matter whether Harry was his or not. He would not have an ugly room in his house, and as such, Harry's room was outfitted in expensive furniture.

It was beautiful, but more than that, it was elevated. Masterfully styled and decorated. It was perfect. And why would it be anything else? Especially when voldamort himself had done it. Evil he may have been, but he didn't lack style.

The room itself was one of the bigger ones. It had a bathroom attached, but it was currently used to bathe Harry. A jet black coated the walls with a touch of silver swirls, magically enchanted to swirl and move. He had also paid for- well not paid for, simply obtained a historical victorian crib from a family who, to put it simply, was no longer in need of a crib.

The crib itself was sunning. A type of wood used mostly for wands, a swirly pattern like vines carved into the side. It belonged to a monarch around 1840. After they had owned it for a while, it was bought by a wealthy man and his wife who were expecting. They had bought it because of its rarity, only one made. He had obtained it for the exact same reason.

Paired with black out curtains and black paint, the room felt quite dark and mysterious. He had added a few candles for some light to fit the vibe.

The room had been his canvas, and he had painted and sculped like a true artist. After all, that's what he was.

Harry sat sleeping in his crib. A beautiful knitted blanket keeping him warm from the freezing nature of the house. He slept so soundly, so calm for something that had been through as much as him.

Voldamort walked to his crib, staring at his horcrux.

(Just for this part play kitchen fan lullaby by Claire boyer, you know the one that trend on tiktok for awhile? It works really well here)

"Sleep well. You need it. "

The cold air brushed through his hair, making him shiver. Yet Harry seemed unbothered, still rapped snugly in his blanket. Oh, to feel so safe again. To trust the people around you so much, you could sleep so soundly.

Something in him was tempted to reach out to that comfort, to cling to it. He gently cradled Harry as he pulled him from the crib.

As he began to rock him, Harry sturred.

That brave feeling, what some might even see as paternal, was gone. He couldn't deal with a crying baby!

And yet- he still heald Harry despite his mind telling him to put the thing down and let it cry itself to sleep.

Even more surprising, he began to hum to the crying child. What song? None other than his own, of course.

"So dark and cold, he may be, so evil, death may set you free" he softly sang. Not going for fear as he usually did with this song, but quite interestingly the opposite.

Harry's whimpers fell silent. The little baby stared up at voldamort with wide eyes.

"All aposed must flee for he is deaf to cry and plea." Continuing to gently rock Harry, he sung the rest.

"An evil force with much to gain, is he who brings fear and pain, and to all who take his hand, you have joined a-" he paused. Out of all the things in the song calling himself a fallen man in a lullaby to the child that would depend on him for the foreseeable future felt wrong, "a man"

Harry was laid back into the crib.

"Goodnight, Harry."

(The cute little moment is over pick a different song)

Then that paternal gentleness vanished. He hated calling the boy that. Harry Potter. What a filthy muggle name. The boy was a wizard for mirlin's sake! He needed a wizards name. Something powerful, something that would command fear, something that made him more deserving to carry a piece of voldamort's soul in him.

Voldamort would give Harry that name.

Not just to rid Harry of any connection, his useless parents, but also to keep him safer. But mainly to get rid of his lineage. That voldamort understood, and in his twisted mind, a small part of him must have felt like he was doing Harry a favor. He had wanted a way out from his parents, so, he imaged, would Harry.

(Here are some inspo pictures for Harry's nursery. I don't own any of these, so do with that information what you will.)

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Short chapter. I literally wrote this at like 9 on a Saturday night after waking up to do an event from 8 to 12 for band, so I'm kind of tired. Anyway, 1021 words. It could be more, but whatever.

Quick reminder that I have another book called daffodil flower fleilds (I think that's the name, I might be wrong) that includes an oc, daffodil villums. She's also called dilly and daffy a few times as well. For the fan fiction, I wanted to add in a few more characters, so yes, a few of the fan made characters are added in. However, I dont bucher the characters (by that, I mean Tom is still manipulative). If that's not your jam, cool. But if you're interested in the world when Harry is a teenager, that might be more up your speed

Remember to vote (star), comment, and look at chapters when they come out. It helps me to find the motivation to write more. But as a bonus to you, it helps me find what you like.

Be safe this weekend, stay hydrated, move a bit, be kind to yourself, and most importantly, enjoy it. School is starting or has started so spend your time wisely of course. Have a great weekend in case I don't see you again ❤️.

- the boredom cure