It all started on the 31st of October, 1981.
There was a prophecy, one that told the defeat of the Dark Lord. The one to defeat him was Harry James Potter, although he didn't knew it, since he was but a year old.

The Dark Lord, also known as Lord Voldemort, had killed both of his parents but failed in killing him, therefore he got dubbed the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. Oh, how Harry hated that title. How he hated to be famous for something he couldn't even remember doing.
And now, with the Dark Lord resurrected, they expected him to defeat him again! How he hated the Wizarding world for placing such a burden on his shoulders. He was a child! Not a warrior. Not a soldier. Not a weapon.

He'd heard countless stories of how his mother had refused to step away, even when Voldemort gave her a chance to live. How brave she'd been, how proud he should be of her.
He was anything but proud of her. Thanks to his mother's stubbornness, he had had to endure ten years of abuse and neglect. Being with the Dursleys had done nothing but making the hatred inside him grow. If he was offered the chance to take revenge on his relatives, he would've taken it without a second thought. Oh, how he would enjoy their screams of pain and agony.

By the age of eleven he'd found out he was a wizard, by the half-giant Hagrid, Dumbledore's meek little lamb. Oh, how Hagrid spoke highly of him. As if he was some kind of god. Well, Harry had never believed in God.
When Harry found out it was Dumbledore who had placed him on the Dursleys' doorstep, he wanted to murder the man. He was the reason for everything he'd been through. He'd begun to plan the Old man's demise along with his relatives. He'd force Hagrid to watch how he slowly and painfully killed the 'oh, so powerful and mighty Dumbledore'.

He had to admit Hogwarts was mesmerizing. During the ride from King's Cross to Hogsmeade, he'd been approached by a red-headed boy with dirt on his nose. He'd tried to start a conversation with him, but when Harry kept ignoring him, he'd sat by the window, sulking. Harry would bet his entire fortune the boy- he didn't remember what his name was, nor did he care -had wanted to brag about Harry Potter being his new best friend to the rest of the student body.

When the Sorting Hat was placed on his head, he all but demanded to be anywhere but in the same house as the red-headed one. He didn't care if he ended up in Hufflepuff, just as long as he wouldn't have to deal with him. The Hat had chuckled, and instead for Gryffindor, placed him in Slytherin. Harry had calmly walked over to the Slytherin table and sat down. He'd smirked when he'd seen the disappointed look on the red-head's face, Dumbledore didn't look too happy, either. After the meal, he'd been called to the Headmaster's office, escorted by his new Head of House, Severus Snape. Harry liked him the most. He was gloomy and sarcastic, treated him like he wanted to be treated, not as a trophy to be put on a shelf.

Dumbledore had tried to make him tell what the Hat had told him during his Sorting, but Harry had just said he'd been told Slytherin was the place for him to be. By this action, Harry was certain Dumbledore had arranged for him to be placed in Gryffindor, the House for the noble and brave. Well, too bad for him. Harry refused to play along with his plan.

During the Halloween-feast, Quirrell had stormed into the Great Hall, shouting about a troll in the dungeons. Everyone had been ordered to go back to their dorms and remain there.
The following day they'd been told that a student had been harmed during the chaos- one Hermione Granger, a Gryffindor. She would have to remain in the Hospital Wing for some time, according to Madam Pomfrey; almost every bone in her body had been bruised or broken by the troll's hammer.
Harry didn't complain, on the contrary. He was happy to finally be free from that ever annoying know-it-all. She'd been his lab partner in Potions- he despised Snape then and there- and she had done nothing but complain about his mistakes or how he should've done it the other way.
Harry was good in Potions, even better than that mudblood, a fact she couldn't seem to grasp. No one was allowed to be smarter than her. Well, she wasn't smart enough to get past the troll.

When Christmas arrived, Harry had received quite an unusual gift; an invisibility cloak. The note that came with it said it used to belong to his father; James Potter.
Snape had often told him what a bully his father had been, Hagrid had told him what a fantastic man he'd been, Dumbledore had told him he was a very noble and brave man for standing up to Voldemort. Harry didn't really care about his father. He was dead, and had been dead for ten years.
Still, an invisibility cloak could come in handy. Though he wondered why Dumbledore chose this time to give it to him. He could've done it anytime, anywhere, but chose Christmas. Probably so he would come out of it all as a very caring and comforting man. It didn't work- Harry was instead angry that a family heirloom had been kept from him for so long. He shouldn't have to receive it as a gift- it was his!

Putting his rage and hatred for Dumbledore aside, Harry made use of his cloak that very night. There was a book in the 'Restricted section' of the library that he wanted- Dark Spells and Curses by Gellert Grindelwald. Harry was curious as to why a book by an old Dark Lord was kept in Hogwarts, but was sure it was all Dumbledore's doing. He'd done some research on the old man and discovered that he and Grindelwald had been friends during their time at Hogwarts. Maybe Dumbledore was the reason he became a Dark Lord in the first place? It wouldn't surprise him if it was.

Because of the holiday, Mrs. Pince wasn't in the library- she and the other Professors were having their own celebration in their quarters. He calmly walked through the library and with a simple Alohomora, the door to the 'restricted section' opened. He found the book he was looking for and quickly went back to the Slytherin Common room. He had some reading to do.

Some months later, Quirrell disappeared. No one knows where he went, or if he would come back, but the school was one Professor short. No one really missed him, though. One couldn't make out a word he was saying because of his stuttering. The only one to take his disappearance seriously was Dumbledore. He had a frown on his forehead, and his eyes had lost their ever-annoying twinkle.

The year ended, and Harry had to go back to the Dursleys. Well, it wasn't as bad as it used to be. They didn't know about the fact that he wasn't allowed to perform magic outside of school, and Harry basked in that wonderful opportunity to finally get some revenge. The list of chores he'd been assigned was half as long as it usually way, and he got his cousin's second bedroom, to Dudley's horror and despair.

-o-

Second year came, and with it Gilderoy Lockhart.
It wasn't difficult to see the man was a fraud, and thanks to a letter to the Ministry, it was revealed and proved that he had Obliviated several famous wizards and witches and then claimed their adventures as his own. He was arrested and would be brought up for questioning before the Wizengamot.
Since Harry had been anonymous in his letter, no one ever found out who they should blame- 'they' being all the girls.

In Lockhart's place came Remus Lupin, a man who apparently had been acquainted with his Dad during school. Harry had no interest in being friends with the man, who seemed determined to tell him all he'd ever known about his Dad, not that Harry cared. What did the man expect? That Harry would come running to him for any facts about his Dad? Again, he was sure Dumbledore was behind it all. Lupin was nothing but another meek little lamb.

The peace was disturbed when students were being petrified- the rumours said that the Heir of Slytherin had been revealed, and was going to rid the school of all the mudbloods. Some claimed that Harry was the Heir, since he'd been sorted into Slytherin; the House of Snakes.
Granger had been one of the petrified ones, much to Harry's delight. He wanted to shake the Heir's hand and congratulate him or her on a good job. He didn't have to wait long.

Weasley's younger sister entered Hogwarts that year, and she'd done nothing but staring at him, something that annoyed him immensely. The look in her eyes all but screamed love and obsession, but Harry would rather die than be together with her.
He'd noticed she'd been carrying a small black book around, and he often saw her writing in it furiously. He didn't care, she meant nothing to him. When the news that she'd been taken down to the Chamber reached him, he couldn't be more relieved. Perhaps he'd finally get some peace and quiet with her gone.

He had to admit he was curious about the Chamber, though. The Heir of Slytherin had to be a parselmouth, lucky for him, he was one as well. He'd found out he was one when he and the Dursleys had gone to the zoo for Dudley's birthday. He'd spent some time talking to a snake, until Dudley had to interrupt their conversation.
It wasn't hard to figure out where the entrance to the Chamber was. All he had to do was follow the wails of the ghost that inhabited the girls' bathroom on the second floor. He'd done some research and found out that Myrtle had suddenly dropped dead when she was a student at the school, in the bathroom no less!

He'd found the entrance and followed the tunnel until he came to the chamber. Placing the entrance to a hidden chamber in a bathroom was a genius move; no one would ever think to look there.
He could see the body of Ginny Weasley lying unconscious on the cold, wet floor. Good, she could remain there.
Then the memory of Tom had appeared.

"She won't wake." The memory-Tom had said, stepping out from the shadows.

"I hope she doesn't." Harry said, keeping his eyes on the other boy. "You're the Heir of Slytherin."

Tom had hidden his surprise well, and had just smirked at Harry in response.

"You're also Lord Voldemort." Harry had continued.

This time he managed to take the older boy with surprise. "I am. Will you run?"

"No, that would be a total waste of time and effort since I came down here to thank you."

Tom had frowned in question and taken a small step towards him. "Thank me, Harry Potter?"

Harry had wondered how the memory of the Dark Lord knew how he was, but the answer was clear as crystal: Ginny. "So she told you about me?"

"Mostly she wrote of how wonderful and amazing you are. She has the idea that you'll marry her and live happily ever after." Tom said and snorted.

"That is not the case. To marry her I'd have to love her, and I most certainly don't, and never will. How come you're here?" Harry asked, looking around in the Chamber, seeing in the corner of his eye how the other boy slowly came closer.

"I steal her life-force via the diary. As she grows weaker, I grow stronger. Soon, I won't be a memory anymore." Tom explained, now standing very close to Harry. "Why aren't you running? If what Ginny Weasley wrote is true, you are the bane of my existence. You are the reason my future self is nothing but a mere spirit. How do you know I won't attack and kill you once I get corporeal?"

"Because you would gain nothing by killing me, I'd be worth more to you alive. Wouldn't you want to have Harry Potter on your side, within your ranks?" Harry asked, calmly looking up at Tom, whose blue eyes were staring down at him, bright with power.

"Would you be willing to take my mark?" Harry held back a snort. Really, that was his first question?

"I figured since you already marked me, we could skip that part. I don't fancy tattoos anyways." Harry said with a shrug.

Tom appeared to be in deep thought and Harry didn't disturb him. He'd considered joining the Dark for some time now; it'd make his revenge even sweeter, but without a Dark Lord, it wasn't that easy. He'd figured out that Tom Marvolo Riddle was an anagram for 'I am Lord Voldemort' when he'd found an article about Tom arresting the student that had released the monster from its prison under the school. It had had to be more than a coincidence.
From there it wasn't hard to figure out he was the Heir of Slytherin. Only a parselmouth would be able to open the entrance to the Chamber, and so far as Harry knew, he and Tom were the only ones, since Voldemort had a snake as a familiar.

Tom seemed to have realized this as well, for his hard and cold gaze turned to Harry. "You're a parselmouth." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"How is that possible?"

"To that, I have no answer. I found out I was one when I was ten and talked to a snake at a zoo."

Tom's eyes narrowed as he studied Harry closely. Harry remained calm and still, his eyes never leaving Tom's.

"This is interesting indeed. Your offer is tempting, Harry Potter." Tom said as he twirled Ginny's wand between his long fingers. "May I ask why?" Harry didn't need him to explain what he meant to understand the question.

"Because I hate my relatives for what they've done to me, for whom they are. I hate Dumbledore for leaving me with them, for who he is; I hate the Wizarding world for giving me the title the 'Boy-Who-Lived'." Harry said, his eyes going colder and harder as he spoke. Tom stared at him, an intrigued look in his eyes.

"You are not who I thought you'd be, Harry Potter." He finally said. "And you're welcome."

When Tom had consumed all of Ginny Weasley's life force, he had apparated out of the Chamber, with the promise of contacting Harry within the near future. Harry left the Chamber without a second glance at the Weasley-girl, and had closed the entrance once he'd made sure Moaning Myrtle was nowhere to be seen. He'd spelled the dirt away from his body and then exited the bathroom as if nothing had ever happened. The body of Ginny Weasley was never found.

-o-

The Dursleys still lived in fear of Harry using magic on them if they misbehaved. Vernon had been brave enough to ask if his sister was welcome to stay for the weekend. Harry had decided to be 'nice' since his relatives had behaved so well. She had arrived and Vernon had quickly and quietly explained to his sister to not anger Harry, but she'd just snorted and ordered Harry to take her coat, not noticing the panic in her brother's eyes. Harry had decided to play along, for the moment, but she would pay later. He had always hated her; she'd never been worth anything to him.

He was now allowed to perform magic outside of school!
Tom had sent him a letter with instructions on how to remove the trace in his wand, something he was deliriously happy about. He had performed the ritual immediately, the one to be the guinea-pig was dear Aunt Marge. He'd made her feel just as much misery and pain he had felt when he was younger. Vernon and Petunia had been horrified when Vernon's sister had appeared in the kitchen, bruised and beaten, but they both knew who was responsible for it all. They didn't dare to confront him about it, though.

The second thing Harry had done was to transfigure his small bedroom to a large, wide room, with a king-sized bed with soft sheets and pillows.
He then sent Hedwig with some money to Diagon Alley- it was time to correct his thin, fragile body and poor eyesight. Some potions would do the trick.

Harry had received a note from Tom that he wanted to meet him the following night, in a small park not far from Harry's home. Oh, how Harry wished Dumbledore was there to see it, hopefully he'd die from the shock of seeing the Dark Lord and Harry Potter talking to each other without any malice.
Tom had taken in Harry's new and stronger body with appreciation, and even complimented him on how his eyes glowed without the glasses to hide them. Harry had just smiled and thanked him, glad the potions had done their work. He was now taller and you could no longer see his ribs. He appeared as he would have if the Dursleys hadn't malnourished and abused him so.

"You wanted to meet me?" Harry asked and sat down on a bench, looking up at Tom.

Tom didn't answer at first; he merely looked around, taking in the surroundings. "This seems to be quite a boring place to live in." Harry laughed and nodded, waited for Tom to continue. "There's a meeting tomorrow night. I want you to come. You'll be introduced as my right hand in politics."

Harry was shocked by this. Did the Dark Lord trust him that much? "I'm... flattered, but confused. Why?"

"Of course we won't reveal your true self to the others. You'll have to come up with another name for yourself. As for why... you were right. It'd be more in my favour if I had you by my side. Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter working together to bring down Dumbledore... imagine the chaos, the terror. As for you being my right hand... even though you are only thirteen years old, no one knows me better than you. No one knows you better than me. We are two sides of the same coin, Harry Potter."

Harry had been quiet during the small speech, but knew Tom was right. Tom knew him better than anyone else. He smiled slightly up at Tom, who smirked back.

"When is the meeting?"

"At seven o'clock. I'll send you a portkey in the afternoon; it'll take you to my personal office where you'll get an update on what'll be discussed during the meeting. Robes and mask will await you there as well."

Harry nodded in affirmation and watched as Tom stood up and apparated away without a sound.

Harry had arrived in Tom's office four o'clock. He had chosen the name Edmund Mondego* and silently put his robes and mask on. When Tom nodded his head in satisfaction they had spent the remaining time discussing the meetings content.
It had felt weird, but very exciting, to attend the meeting that night. Everyone was curious who this new recruit was, but neither he nor Tom told them any of his background stories. Tom had announced him as his right hand, much to the anger and jealousy of Lucius Malfoy. Harry had only smirked at him.

Back at Hogwarts the news that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban and was after Harry spread as fast as the wind. Dumbledore had ordered Professors to accompany him to and from classes, something Harry thought was totally unnecessary. He was competent enough to defend himself, and with the underage restriction gone from his wand, he could perform magic wherever he went. But he knew it was Dumbledore's way of keeping an eye on him. He accompanied Harry himself many times, and tried to start a conversation with him, but Harry never said a word. He'd be damned before he had a friendly conversation with Dumbledore.

When it was announced that Black had gotten inside the school and attacked Ron Weasley, everyone was frantic. Would he come after Harry next? Why did he attack Weasley? Was he his enemy instead of Potter? Harry was never left alone anymore. Everywhere he went he was followed, teacher or ghost. He had fun imagining their deaths for annoying him so.

Third year ended pretty quickly. News that Remus Lupin was a werewolf spread as fast as a snitch, forcing him to resign. Harry didn't complain, he didn't like the man much. Mostly because he was Dumbledore's faithful little servant who'd do anything his leader asked. The biggest news though, was that Sirius Black had been captured by Aurors from the Ministry and would get the Dementors Kiss. During his capture he had kept yelling about a rat that missed a toe. No one ever figured out what he meant. Weasley ended up in the Hospital Wing with a broken leg. He kept mumbling about rabies and that he would die. It was very amusing.

-o-

Tom had called him for a few more meetings during the summer, but they had also met outside of Malfoy Manor, where the meetings were being held. Tom, being curious with Harry's life and childhood, had asked him to tell him about it. He would in return tell Harry about his own childhood.
When Tom heard of Harry's bedroom the first ten years of his life (the cupboard), he had apparated away without a word, leaving Harry by himself at the café. Just when Harry considered leaving he returned with the news that Harry's relatives had been dealt with. When Harry had asked him what he meant, he simply told him that he wouldn't see them around very much.

When Harry arrived home later that day, he found no trace of the Dursleys- it was as if they had vanished into thin air. Now Harry knew what Tom had meant. He basked in the silence. Tom apparated into the living room a few hours later and asked if Harry appreciated what he had done. Harry had done something he had never done before: he hugged Tom.

"Words cannot describe how grateful I am." Harry said with his arms still around Tom's torso.

"I'm glad you appreciated it." Said Tom and patted Harry lightly on the back before backing out of the embrace. He looked around in the boring, dull living room, when he suddenly froze. He hurried out into the hallway, Harry not far behind. He found Tom staring at the small door that led to the cupboard.

"This is it?" Tom growled out.

"Yes. It was just me and the spiders." Harry had tried to say it cheerfully, but it came out with a bitter and sad tone. "Haven't you-"

"I didn't waste any time finding the cupboard before, I was too busy cursing your so-called family. How dared the muggles do this to a wizard?"

"They aren't worthy to be called humans. They were monsters. Well, they're gone now. Where are they, anyway?"Harry asked, tilting his head in question.

"They are currently in my dungeons. I told my followers to have some fun with them until I got back. They deserve some time to play and have fun." Tom had said with a satisfied smirk.

"And I deserve some peace and quiet for once." Harry said and leaned against the wall while smirking. "Won't Dumbledore notice their absence? I'm almost a hundred percent sure that he's ordered Mrs. Figg who lives across the streets to keep an eye on me."

"I'm sure you'll deal with her." Tom said with a small smirk before apparating away.

After an Obliviate and an Imperius, Harry was satisfied. The old woman would write the usual letter to Dumbledore, telling him everything was as it should be.

End of Part 1

* Mondego- the Count of Monte Cristo- 'cause I love that movie.