Forthcoming

1.1 HTSR

Part One.
Book 1.
Chapter One.

I always knew that I was different. Ever since I was just a boy. Different from everyone else. My father, my mother, my sisters, everyone. Unlike others who seemed to just be mindless dull zombies, not fully grasping their existence and full potential. They merely just coexisted with me. Unlike them I knew my full purpose. Or at least, I believed I did. Much like my cousin, Draco, our fates were sealed. The Dark Lord had hand picked me, he was the reason I was alive. He, as well as my mother, brought me into this cruel and unforgiving world. And sometimes I wished they hadn't.

Becoming a Death Eater seemed to be the only thing I had to look forward to in this life. It was my destiny. My reason to exist. That was until the day I met Hermione. I'm not 100% sure how or why. But she made me feel things i've never felt before. And when I first saw her, my destiny seemed to revamp. Being a deatheater wasn't my fate, she was. I knew it. Of course, when I was younger I didn't understand those feelings. The feelings I got whenever Draco insulted her. How her face fell, but her eyes never seemed to lose it's sparkle. How'd she furiously defend her friends. I was always curious on how she didn't end up in Ravenclaw. But now thinking back on it, she was every example of a Gryffindor. She had courage, determination, chivalry, and of course bravery.

Hermione Granger had to be one of the bravest people I had ever met. She was selfless, intelligent, and ferociously noble. She was my fate. My soulmate.

Of course, all good stories have to start with a beginning. I've had this story retold to me many, many, many times. I don't think i'll ever really know the real truth. Seeing how everyone involved seems to be dead now.

I'll tell it as well as I can.

July 31st, 1980.

The day I was born, Hadrian Thomas Salazar Riddle. (Long, I know.) 7 pounds, 6 ounces. A healthy, kicking baby boy. But then a tragedy struck. My mother was informed that I had an unfortunate lung condition, which would kill me a few hours later. Despite how hard my mom tried to fight. How untrue the doctors were. How she had to see me. She was denied, and for almost two long years. I was dead.

But that very day was when I became a Potter. I'm more than positive if their fates were different, my life would have been better.

October 31st, 1981.

"Ah," Mister Potter sighed. He was laying on the floor, with two animated toddlers banging on his chest. Me being one of them. "I love you, Lily."

Mrs. Potter peaked up from her book, and smiled lovingly. It was obvious that this was what she always wanted, and it saddens me to know how it was going to be ripped right from her.

CRASH

"COME OUT NOW POTTER!" A too familiar voice bellowed, dripping with venom.

James was on his feet in seconds, "Get the boys and go now." He said steadily and low. Lily picked up on the seriousness and basically ran up the stairs with her sons. Lily tried as many protection wards as she could on the door leading into the nursery. She whispered a prayer, while hot tears streamed down her face. I wish I could remember what she looked like. I wish I could have helped her in anyway. But I was a useless and thoughtless toddler. Too young to understand the significance of this situation. 

A fierce gush of wind hit James in the chest, making him stumble back. The door plummeted to the ground, shards of glass sticking into James' skin, causing him to yelp in the sweet stinging sensation. The Dark Lord walked through the doorway, taking in the scenery. Eyeing the broken man in front of him, he could sense his nervousness, and which made him almost smile distastefully.