Desperate Measures v.2

Story Warnings: Child Abuse, Violence, Language. If there come to be more, I'll mention them when they first come along, since I don't know fully where this story is going yet.

Disclaimer: Obviously, the characters aren't mine. What I really need to mention is that the plot belongs to Chibikan from her story of this same name. This is done with her full permission. Also, I need to give a large portion of the credit for the prologue and the first chapter to her. My prologue is altered a bit from hers, but my first chapter is not changed much. I assure you all that Chibikan knows about this as well. In any case, I strongly recommend that you subscribe to her original story, as she assures me she plans to write more when she has the time.

Also, this story is strongly AU, so I don't want to hear about what did or did not happen in the books. But, obviously, you can forget HBP and DH altogether. Most of the rest happened, but there may be some changes mentioned at times. As I said, I'm not sure of the full story yet.

Prologue:

Midnight, July 31st, 1996 Little Hangleton

Lightning flashed across the sky as rain poured down in torrents outside Riddle Manor. The man who called himself Lord Voldemort was quite content inside the building. He had always enjoyed thunderstorms, as they were one of the few things as potentially deadly as he was. Lounging in an easy chair across from the window, book in hand; he was the picture of relaxation. As he sipped on the cup of hot tea in front of him, reading one of his favorite novels, he was perfectly at peace. Though he would soon find that was not to be the case for long.

Voldemort had just turned a page in his book, when he suddenly heard a loud bang from outside. Being who he is, he of course jumped up and ran to the window, wanting to know the source of the sound. Looking out he saw nothing, and assumed, as many people would, that it was merely the storm. Returning to his reading, he had not done so for long before catching a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye, through the window. Dismissing it as nothing, he attempted to continue reading his book, until he heard the thump outside the front door. He marked the page in his book and hurried to the door. He opened it and looked directly in front of him. There was no one, until he looked down. A young boy, with messy black hair he would know anywhere, lay barely conscious and exhausted. "Potter?"