A/n Ok!.....ok!....so, I was finding a pic for this chapter and stumbled upon this cursed image. Then I looked up on youtube and food so many variations how did I not know this was a thing! LMAO my stomach hurts! asdhsduflijhv;ldh
It was October 31, 2004.
It started out ok. The day was bright and sunny, if only a bit chilly. Nothing indicated what horrors would happen that night in number 17, Godric's Hollow.
The elder Potters, Lily and James, were sitting on the couch smiling softly at their children. Although they were twins, they were not loved equally. Now it wasn't quite an obvious favoritism and not a big difference either, but that would change. For the gap would grow bigger with time.
That night, a figure whose name was feared by all except few, made his way to the cottage house. A trembling man ,who had more likeness to a rat than human, stood beside him.
"Is this the house Peter?" The shadowed man asked.
"y-y-yes, My L-Lord!" The rat's voice was raspy and wet, trembling with terror.
The cloaked figure gave a side-glance back to his companion, "Leave, you are no longer of use to me."
The stout man hurriedly nodded his head and scampered away, twigs snapping behind him in his rush.
After the simpering man had disappeared the cloaked man strode forward towards the door, blasting it inwards with a flick of his finger. James Potter leaped up from the area he was previously occupying beside his wife, yelling at the fiery redhead to take the kids and run. The cloaked figure gave the man a board glance, before he started towards the stairs where the red head had disappeared.
"You won't get to them, Voldemort!" James yelled.
Voldemort looked over at the man, an eyebrow raised, "And why, pray-tell is that?"
"Dumbledore will stop you!"
Voldemort snorted, "If you believe that, you must be but another pawn upon his board."
With that said, he extended his hand, wand loosely gripped in his hand, lazily he flicked the stick and muttered 'stupefy'. A red light flew from the point of the wooden object and hit James, causing him to crumple to the ground unconscious.
With a smug hmph, he walked up the stairs hand lazily trailing along on the rail, not giving a second glance to the fallen man on the ground below. He observed the pictures and decor on the walls sneering at the ungodly amount of red and gold.
"Bloody Gryffindors! Too much house pride, and no sense of fashion," he muttered to himself.
He came across a door marked with a nameplate claiming it the room of one "Hadrian and Eggerton Potter" what a weird name. What, ever made them choose that. Who would want their name as Eggerton? Were they forced to pick the child's name at gunpoint?
And yes, he knew about muggles and their culture. Unlike the poor excuse of a man sitting in as the head of the Weasley house who claimed he did ,but had absolutely no idea what anything was! And yes he's the bloody dark lord, but knowledge is power even if it is muggle. He's not an Imbecile! Thank you very much. Muggles are capable of more than wizards give them credit for, after all only a fool underestimates his enemy. And he was certainly no fool, he huffed.
A loud sob broke him from his trance.
He stood there for a second dumbfounded. Seriously, could the woman be any dumber! There's someone coming to kill her children, and not only does she choose to hide in the room with their name plastered upon the door, she's sobbing so loud even the most hard of hearing could have heard. Honestly, she sounded like a dying cat, he would have said as much but that would be extremely rude to cats, the adorable little balls of fluff that they were.
He shook his head and sighed, he really needed to stop getting sidetracked.
Blasting the door open similarly to the way he entered the font door he stepped in.
The carpet was lush under his feet, and once again his retinas were burning with the assault of an ungodly amount of RED AND GOLD! Dear Merlin, do they know of the existence of any other colors, or at the very least different shades. Whoever has decorated the house obviously knows nothing of interior design!
Not that he was that skilled in his younger years, he cringed at the thought of all that green. But at least he used different shades, the only shades here are neons! Plus, he grew out of that tacky phase ,and will quite happily never go back to that again. But that's not the point!
Dammit! He got side tracked again, Stupid thoughts, clogging his stupid brain! He huffed, irritation oozing out of him.
The women 'Lily' his mind supplied, begged and begged for him not to harm the children. He once again lazily flicked his wand muttering "stupiffy", before she collapsed to the ground.
He much rather killed her, but unfortunately he promised Severus and he was one to never go back on a promise. He was many things ,but a liar and oath breaker were not any of them. Although who's to say he can't judge his trustees choices. Because really? Her. HER!
He would definitely need a glass of Fire Whisky later, if not a whole bottle or two. Although, a nice bottle of vodka or whisky would suffice.
He glanced at the two children. He really didn't want to do this but there was simply too much at risk to throw all caution to the wind.
One child had orange brown hair and plain blue eyes, there was nothing truly interesting about him except for the weird color combination of his hair. He was crying, with as much pure terror as a baby could show.
The other child he could tell would grow up breathtaking, if he survived tonight that is. With raven black hair almost raven black with hints of blue and purple in the light, glowing green orbs, any other defining features could only come with age. Unlike his brother, he was silent, observant, and no that was not fear in his eyes. That was pure curiosity.
He knew this child was the one supposedly prophesied to defeat him...he thinks. He didn't quite know if it was a true prophecy or not. After all, It came from Dumbles, and who even holds an interview in a pub anyway. Of all places, and not a nice one at that! Honestly, that man is going senile!
He looked at a small clock mounted on the burgundy red walls. He had to make his choice now whether to kill the babe ,or not and soon. For time waits for no one.
With a weary sigh he leveled his wand at the child, "I'm truly sorry, and though you do not understand me. I shall and can not ask for forgiveness, I only hope that you rest In peace and comfort shall there truly be an afterlife." The child's eyes glinted with understanding as if he recognized the gravity of the situation, but that was just ludicrous! Positively absurd!
Voldemort steeled himself together and muttered, "Avada Kedavra."
Magic shook the house as the curse hit the child ,and rebounded into the caster. Splitting his soul as he turned into a shade and disappeared. A small shard of his shattered soul finding its way to the child, where it resided within a scar that resembled a lightning bolt.
Voldemort's last conscious thought was that of relief that the child had lived, and disappointment at the fact he could ,and would not have his whiskey or vodka!
He was really looking forward to that drink ,dammit!
A/n Hiyya! I know no one really reads these thing. I mean I sure as hell don't , but just putting it out there that I mean no offense to anyone. And if you have any criticism Note criticism not hate please feel free to tell me hope you enjoyed. And yes I know the date is wrong I did it on purpose, for reasons.
~Bye lovelies ~
- word count 1144-
:) hehehehe
Boy oh boy do I have plans!
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The Hidden Twin
FanfictionHadrian Potter was the eldest twin, but unlike his brother he was forgotten. Abandoned to the muggle world. But what happens when it's not his brothers name that comes out of the goblet but his own? What will the wizarding world do when they realiz...
