On that fateful night so many years ago, Voldemort chose another to be his equal—a decision that would save his life and kill the boy he chose. Ten years later, Harry James Potter is celebrating his eleventh birthday and couldn't be happier, until his parents, James and Lily Potter, get called away on assignment…and never return. Harry getting sorted into Slytherin was the last straw for him. If no one can pull Harry out of his slum, then the wizarding world will be facing their greatest nightmare—a dark wizard far more powerful than anything they have ever seen before. Voldemort's choice could completely alter the course of history.

Chapter One

Harry flew around aimlessly on his broom. It was a hot, muggy morning in July, and also it happened to be Harry's eleventh birthday. This birthday was a very special birthday to Harry, as he would be getting his letter to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry if he would be getting it at all. That was why instead of sleeping in like most normal boys would do he was outside, riding his broom, on the lookout for any owls that were headed his way. So far, he had no luck. Harry was just about to give up when he felt a gentle weight added to the back of his broom. He looked around and sure enough, there was an owl—looking very important—on the back of his broom.

Happily, Harry snatched up the letter it was carrying, and, with an indignant hoot, the owl flew off. Quickly, Harry landed the broom and dashed inside. He was waving the letter in the air in triumph.

"It's here! It's here! I got my letter!" Harry said when he got to the kitchen. His mother was at the stove, frowning at him slightly, and his father was at the table with his newspaper and a cup of coffee.

"Harry, how many times must I tell you not to go outside and fly your broom, or do anything else, without telling one of us first?" his mother said with a sigh and a shake of her head.

"You really should listen to your mother, Harry," his father said, but by the way he was looking at him over his newspaper, Harry knew he wasn't actually upset with him. "Now what's this about a letter?"

"I got it! I got it! My Hogwarts letter is here!" Harry said, waving the envelope in the air again.

"Well, then sit down and open it up, my boy!" Mr. Potter said with a chuckle. Harry obeyed, and his mother came to sit down at the table, too.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

"Well that's wonderful Harry. We'll take you on a trip to Diagon Alley this weekend to get your supplies, and I'll get right on that reply," his mother, Lily Potter, said as she got up to search for a piece of parchment and a quill. James clapped Harry on the back.

"Well done, son, you'll be a Gryffindor just like your old man and your Uncles, won't you?" James said proudly. Harry grinned and nodded vigorously.

"I don't want to be anything else," Harry said firmly. James smiled.

"That's my boy," he said. "Happy Birthday, Harry," said James. Suddenly, a blur or red ran through the kitchen. James stopped the blur that happened to be Harry's younger sister by one year, Rose. "Whoa, slow down there, little one. Where's the fire?" Rose only panted from running around and then held out a lumpy package to Harry.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," she said. Harry smiled and took the odd gift from her. It was, he discovered after he unwrapped it, a very poorly made ceramic bowl. It was obviously her attempt at making something artistic however, and she had probably tried really hard.

"I love it, thank you Rose," Harry said, giving his little sister a hug.

"You're welcome, Harry," she said. Harry put the bowl on the kitchen. If you squinted, he reasoned, it didn't look so bad. It wasn't as if his sister wasn't artistic—no, she was incredibly talented, but all of her artistic ability came in her music. When it came to drawings and ceramics, however, her artistic talent suddenly vanished. This made the pot all the more meaningful, however, because she obviously had wanted to make something for him that he would like, not something that she would like.

"That was very, erm, sweet of you Rose," James said, looking at the lumpy, misshapen bowl. Harry rolled his eyes. His father just didn't understand the point of giving gifts from the heart, except when it came to his wife, of course. Harry figured his Mom must've trained his Dad somehow, because he never got flashy gifts for her, but instead he got things he knew she would genuinely like and use. With Harry and Rose, however, it was a completely different story. Lily came back into the room.

"The owl is sent. Oh, Harry, I want to get you your supplies next weekend, but would you like to come on a shopping trip with me to Diagon Alley? I just realized we're out of--," Lily began, but Harry interrupted her.

"Sure, Mum. I'd love to," Harry replied. Rose made a sour face.

"Why can't I go, too?" she asked. James hugged her around the shoulders.

"Because you need to stay home and clean your room," he said. Rose scowled even deeper, but she did not protest further. Instead, Rose just went off to her room to clean.

"Well, Harry, I suppose we'll travel by Floo, then," Lily said and threw some powder into the fireplace. The flames turned green and his mother stepped through, yelling "Diagon Alley!"

"Have a good trip, Harry," James said, and then he went back to reading his paper before Harry followed his mother.

When they arrived in Diagon Alley, his mother gave him some money. It was her tradition on his birthday to sneak him out to Diagon Alley and let him buy one birthday present that he picked out himself. She then made him promise to meet her at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor at two o'clock and set him loose upon the innocent people of Diagon Alley. Needless to say, this was a bad idea from the beginning. Harry headed over to the Quality Quidditch Supply shop first thing of course. Many other boys had their noses pressed up against the glass window outside, gawking at the new Nimbus 2000. Harry shrugged off the urge to join them and instead went inside the shop. Inside there were fewer people. There was the store clerk as well as a blonde boy that looked about Harry's age. Harry was milling about the different Quidditch things when he bumped into the boy—quite literally.

"Oh," said the boy, not even bothering to apologize that he had run right into Harry, "Excuse me." The boy looked Harry up and down. "First year at Hogwarts?" Harry nodded. The boy then said very snobbishly, "First years aren't allowed their own brooms. It's against the rules." Harry just looked at the boy in a highly annoyed fashion.

"I know that. It's my birthday, and I'm allowed to get one present that I pick out," Harry said. The other boy looked at him.

"Oh. Your family is wizarding, then?" when Harry nodded, the other boy gave a slick smile. "Oh, well then, I'm Draco Malfoy. And you are?" He said, holding out his hand for Harry to shake. Harry hesitated, but he took his hand anyway.

"Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you. So what are you doing here?" Harry said. Draco shrugged.

"Just looking around, I guess. I'm going to try to convince Father to get me a broom, but he's been quite stubborn lately," Draco said, looking contemplative.

"I'm sure you'll figure out something," said Harry.

"I know I will. I just don't know what," Draco said. Harry looked out the window to see his Mother standing there, not looking happy, just as a tall, blonde man walked in and up to Draco.

"Ah, Draco, I was wondering where you were. And who is your…friend?" said the man, presumably Draco's father. Just looking at him Harry was no longer sure if Draco would be able to convince him to buy the broom he wanted.

"Father, this is Harry Potter. It's his Birthday today, and he came here to get something. Harry, this is my Father," Draco said cordially. Harry nodded.

"Hello, Sir," Harry said, glancing out the window at his mother, who looked stark-raving mad. Harry didn't like to see his mother mad—or his sister, for that matter. Harry figured it had something to do with the combination of them being girls as well as redheads. Mr. Malfoy looked down at the boy hard.

"Oh, it's your birthday, is it? Your eleventh?" he said. Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Erm, yes, Sir. Actually I just came in here to get something I wanted, and now I need to go," Harry said nervously. Mr. Malfoy nodded.

"Right, no need to make your mother outside worried. Have a happy Birthday," Mr. Malfoy said before Harry dashed out.

"What WERE you doing in there for so long? I told you to meet me at two and it's TWO-THIRTY! If you weren't as predictable as your Father, I could have spent hours searching for you--," Lily ranted. Harry listened politely, looking ashamed in all the right spots. Finally, they got home to arrive to a huge surprise party—though, it wasn't a surprise since they did the same thing every year; they carted him off to Diagon Alley then got ready for his party and then he came back, supposedly surprised.

Since Harry didn't have many friends due to his home schooling, it was mainly just his family and two "Uncles," Remus and Sirius, or Moony and Padfoot as his father liked to call them.

"Happy Birthday, kiddo," Sirius said, messing up Harry's already impossibly unruly hair, (to which Lily always said to James, "I knew it. I KNEW messing with you hair that often would do something to you. Look what it did; it messed up your genes and NOW who has to suffer from it? That's right, your son, because his hair won't lie flat if you try to plaster it to his head.") and giving him his present. Harry opened it happily. It was, of course, a spectacular Quidditch poster of Harry's favorite team, the New England Lions. It was even signed at the bottom by the team's seeker. How Sirius obtained this, Harry had no idea, but at the moment he really didn't care.

"Wow! That's wicked awesome!" Harry exclaimed and gave his Godfather a hug. "Thanks, Sirius."

"No problem, mini-Prongs," Sirius said with a laugh. When Harry was finished with hugging Sirius, Remus handed him his present. Of course, being practical Remus had bought him something useful and cool. It was a Defense Against the Dark Arts book signed by the author, a famous Auror who was an incredible contributor to the fight against Lord Voldemort. After Remus got hug and thank you, Harry proceeded to the rest of his gifts from his parents. For a summary he got lots of Quidditch things (from his Father) and lots of books on magic and such (from his mother). The one gift that his Mother and Father had both agreed on getting for him was a beautiful snowy owl, which Harry named Hedwig. All in all, Harry had thought he had had a really great birthday. A few days later he would be wishing he had all of this back.

That terrible started out as a normal night at home in the Potter house. Rose was in the study practicing her violin, Lily was making dinner on the stove, and Harry was reading his new Defense Against the Dark Arts book. It was a stormy night and very cozy at the Potter household. What should have been a very good night at the Potter home turned out to be the worst night in many, many years.

James popped into the house, obviously cold, wet and rainy. He looked very sullen.

"Hard day at work?" Lily asked sympathetically. James just nodded and collapsed onto the couch that Harry wasn't laying on.

"Torture. Murder. Literally," James said. Harry's father was an auror, and therefore he often dealt with Voldemort and his followers.

"Oh, I'm sorry, James," Lily said, turning off the heat on the pot and coming the rub his shoulders. James shrugged her off.

"No, I'm fine. I need to change out of these wet clothes anyway. We have a meeting tonight, you know," James said. Lily looked concerned.

"Is it urgent? I don't remember us planning one for tonight…" Lily said, trailing off. James nodded grimly.

"Dumbledore says he has some urgent news for us—just us. It's a meeting just for us," James said. Lily's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Why just for us?" she asked. James shrugged and sighed.

"I don't know Lily, and quite frankly I don't think I want to know. I'm going to go change," James said.

"But, who will take care of the kids?" Lily asked.

"They're old enough to be on their own for a couple of hours. Now, I really am going upstairs to change," James said, and with that he carried out the action. Lily still looked very concerned.

"You'll watch your little sister, won't you Harry? We should only be gone two hours at the most," Lily said. When James came back downstairs, he said it was time to go. "There's dinner on the stove. If it gets cold, just heat it up in the microwave." Harry nodded. As he watched his parents leave, he became increasingly concerned. Why were they leaving? Why was that meeting just for them? And most importantly, what was it about?

It was over four hours later that finally his mother and father came in through the fireplace, looking more exhausted than he had ever seen them. Harry had been sitting on the couch reading again, waiting for them to come home. He had already gotten himself and Rose dinner, and he had put her to bed. Now, Harry jumped up.

"Mom? Dad? Are you okay?" he asked. James just shook his head.

"Never you mind, Harry. We'll be fine. Are you already packed for school?" James asked. Harry looked at him, puzzled, and nodded. James sighed with relief and despair. "Good boy. Go upstairs and get your sister packed." Harry looked at his father in confusion.

"But Dad, she isn't going to Hogwarts, is she?" Harry asked, mortified by the idea that his sister would be at Hogwarts in his year. James shook his head.

"No, Harry. Just be a good boy and get your sister packed," he said. Confused but obedient, Harry went into Rose's room. He shook her gently.

"Rose. Rose, get up," Harry said, but Rose just rolled over and swatted him away. "Rose, just get up, you have to pack." Rose sat up and yawned sleepily.

"Pack? What for? I'm not going to Hogwarts," Rose said groggily, still rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"I don't know, but Mom and Dad want you and I packed. So come on, let's pack," Harry said. He went into the bathroom to get things he knew she'd need, like a toothbrush while he let her handle her clothes. Rose was so tired, just wasn't bothering to fold anything. She just rolled up whatever she got and threw it in her trunk.

"All right, I'm packed. Now what? What's going on, Harry?" Rose demanded. Harry didn't answer, though, due to his lack of knowledge. He just went downstairs and informed his parents that they were both packed. James nodded grimly.

"All right," he said and got up. He went upstairs and shrunk both of their trunks, putting them in his pocket. "Let's go." Extremely upset by all of this as well as puzzled, Harry and Rose followed after their Father and Mother into the car.

Harry wasn't sure how long they were driving for, and quite frankly he didn't care. It was two in the morning, his sister was shivering in her pajamas, it was storming hard outside, and he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. It didn't help that he had been driving in the car for the past two hours or so, and his father and mother both looked extremely upset, though they weren't speaking. Eventually they pulled up to this crazy looking house that was so tall and rickety it must have been held up by magic. The backyard was fenced in and Harry could hear chickens clucking. They all got out and went onto the porch, Harry in his rumpled day clothes and Rose freezing in her pajamas and bare feet.

James rang the doorbell, and a tall, slightly balding man answered.

"Ah James, yes, my wife and I were expecting you. Can you come in?" the man asked. Harry's father shook his head.

"No, I'm sorry Arthur, we can't. Here they are, I'm assuming Dumbledore told you everything?" James asked the man.

"Almost everything—you know Dumbledore. Well, the children can come in at least, then," Arthur stated, about to usher them inside.

"Hang on, Arthur," James said. He bent down to Harry's level and grasped him by the shoulders. "We've been called away on an assignment, Harry. We'll need to leave you here. We aren't sure how long it's going to take, but in case we aren't back in time for you to go to Hogwarts, I just want to say your Mother and I love you very much and we are very, very proud of you. You'll need to stay here until we come back, though. This is Mr. Weasley. He and his wife will take care of you and Rose until we come back," he said.

Harry was shocked, an assignment from the Order? This wasn't too uncommon for his Father—Harry had spent many sleepless nights worrying about his father's safe return. This time it was different though. It obviously wasn't a quick assignment, and this time BOTH of his parents would be gone.

"But, when will you be back? What about Christmas?" Harry asked worriedly. James smiled at him.

"Don't worry about that Harry, we'll be back before you know it, and at Christmas we'll have dinner with Moony and Padfoot like we always do." James gave Harry a hug. "Be strong Harry, and know that your Mother and I are always proud of you, no matter what."

Rose was crying, and her father and she said their goodbyes as Harry and his mother said their goodbyes. His mom—who was obviously in a state of terrible worry—then moved on to Rose. When they were finished James looked Arthur right in the eye and said,

"You're a good man Arthur. Thank you for doing this for us." Arthur just smiled at him.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. Molly loves the idea of taking two new ones in for a while," Arthur said. James then shook his hand, gave him their shrunken trunks and a key, and then Harry and Rose waved goodbye to their parents, for what Harry had a sinking feeling in his heart about, the last time.

"Well then," Mr. Weasley was the first to speak up, "Let's get you out of the rain now, shall we? Molly would have a fit if she knew you'd been standing out here all this time." Unhappily the Potter children obliged. The kids were led to the kitchen where Mr. Weasley told them to sit down. He gave them both some hot tea and told them that Mrs. Weasley would be down in a minute. "She's waking up the kids," Mr. Weasley explained.

"Oh, well, how many are there?" Rose asked.

"Oh, seven, but only five are with us right now," Mr. Weasley said. Harry could have sworn he saw Rose choke on her tea, but she artfully covered that.

"Oh, that's nice," Rose said politely. A minute later a short, plump lady who looked very cheerful walked in, followed by two boys who were wiping their eyes of sleep.

"Mum, what's going on? It's two in the morning," asked one boy who was coming down the stairs.

"Oy, yeah, Percy needs his beauty sleep," said one of the boys who had followed Mrs. Weasley in.

"George, be nice to your older brother. We have two guests with us," Mrs. Weasley scolded the boys. It was the first time the three boys seemed to notice Harry and Rose's presence.

"Blimey, who are you?" asked the one boy who hadn't spoken yet.

"That will be explained when your brother and sister get down here. What on Earth is taking them so long?" Mr. Weasley asked. At that exact moment a gangly redheaded boy (they were ALL redheads) and girl came down the stairs. The boy looked to be Harry's age, and the girl must have been in Rose's year. "Ah, there you two are. Now I can explain. This is Harry and Rose Potter. Their parents have an assignment to run, and so they will be staying with us until Harry leaves for his first year at Hogwarts, and Rose will be with us until their parents return," Mr. Weasley explained. "So, introductions. This is my wife, Molly Weasley, my third son, Percy, the two twins, Fred and George—watch out for them, they like to prank people--, Ron, he'll be a first year at Hogwarts this year too, and this is Ginny, she's your age, Rose."

No one was really sure what to say—after all, what do you say to two children you've never met nor heard of before who come to your house to stay because their parents have gone on a mission to help defeat Voldemort?—until Fred and George piped up with,

"Yes!"

"New test subjects!"

Which caused much of the ice to be broken as Mrs. Weasley went back to scolding, Ginny and Ron decided to start laughing, and Percy took a seat, introducing himself formally to the two as Hogwarts' new prefect (to which the twins decided to pick on him again), and everything became much more lively in the Weasley household. Eventually Mrs. Weasley gave up refereeing the fights and trying to get everyone to bed.

"All right, since we're all up already all of you get out of the kitchen and go do something productive—I'll start breakfast," Mrs. Weasley said. It was then that Harry learned this was an obviously unconventional—but very pleasant—family. He could get used to this, as long as it were only temporary.

"Hey Harry, want to play a round of exploding snap?" the twins invited him. Harry grinned.

"Sure," he replied, and thus began his first day with his new family.