Warning: Rated M for a reason. Will contain slash, incest, violence, and mature themes.

Main pairing is Tom Riddle / Harry Potter

Currently I have no beta, so please if you see any missing/misspelled words or butchered sentences please inform me.

Trail of Ashes

Prologue

The Ashwinder is a serpent that is created from the remains of any magical fire that is allowed to burn unchecked. The serpent is thin and pale-grey with glowing red eyes. They rise from the embers of the dying fire and slither off into a dark corner to lay their eggs, leaving an ashy trail behind. Ashwinders only live for an hour and will collapse to dust when they have laid their eggs. - Newt Scamander, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Harry did not have a happy life.

A small boy for his age, stunted by malnutrition and an already petite form, he was an easy target for bullies. (Eight you say? He couldn't be more than six…) His baggy worn clothes stuck out among the neater dressed children and his messy hair led many adults to label him as uncaring of his appearance. (Scruffy, disgusting child!) His glasses, which were taped in more than one place, hid his pretty green eyes, which were his biggest asset. (Oh dear, you have such pretty eyes!)

Young Harry was also very shy, another reason to be teased. (Why ya' so quiet? Are ya' stupid?) He faded into the background so quickly that adults never took notice of his intelligence or polite speech. (Oh! I didn't see you, dear!) He was just another face in a wash of children clamoring among the desks and playground.

Harry didn't want to be noticed.

Once, when he'd been younger and not quite so understanding of his unique situation he had clamored among his peers begging to be noticed. (Look what I can do!) For someone to give him the attention he craved, that he had seen but never felt. (I'm not a freak, I swear!)

But he had paid the price for being noticed, and it had not been a good one. (What did you do boy!)

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon did not want Harry to be noticed. They did not want people sniffing around asking questions, or telling them how to take care of their nephew. (Get in the cupboard! Now boy!) So Harry tried to draw as little attention to himself as he could. More often than not, his plans were foiled by his cousin, who like many of the children on the playground did notice how strange Harry seemed to be. (We are goin' ta call it Harry-Hunting!)

It was most often around his cousin that the Strange Things happened. Unexplainable things that often angered his uncle and aunt and drew unwanted attention on their family, like the time Harry disappeared during a chase (get him!) and ended up on the roof of the school. (I'll beat the freakishness out of you, boy!)

It was on his cousin's ninth birthday that one of those particular Strange Things set off a series of events that changed young Harry's life.

Harry was in the backyard doing his daily chores (Get out! We can't have you here where the neighbors can see you!) while he waited for Mrs. Figg, his babysitter for the day, to arrive to pick him up. She was running late, and Petunia was convinced he had done it on purpose in order to ruin her precious Duddeykin's birthday.

Harry was sitting in the shade of the tree resting when a scream sounded from within the house. Jumping up from his spot, he was surprised when a rush of screeching children ran out from the back door. The next second he saw why, a medium sized snake was making its way outside looking rather pleased with its escape.

At first Harry merely stayed by the tree, trying to stay invisible to the frightened party goers, he did not want Vernon to punish him later for drawing attention to himself. That was until Harry noticed an unusual thing about the snake's hisses. It sounded a lot like laughter…

*Stupid humans, get out of my way! I'm trying to leave and you are in the way!*

The laughter had turned into annoyed hissing and then to angry. Not sure why he understood the snake (You freak!), but realizing that he may be able to help before his uncle and aunt decided to hurt it, he walked closer and hissed in return.

*I can help you leave.*

The snake reared back and hissed in surprise. Many of the children had filtered into the front yard but the few remaining stragglers gasped, shocked and scared at the sight of the small boy hissing back. It was at that moment that Vernon and Petunia (armed to kill the retched snake with a shovel and a frying pan) came out into the yard. Just in time to see their dear nephew hiss.

*Come, I will show you how to get out.*

*If you say so speaker, I shall follow.*

Harry took a step back ready to lead the snake out and away from Privet Drive when the shovel cut through the docile snake's neck.

"What do you think you're doing boy!" Vernon was not a happy man.

Many things in Vernon Dursley's life had gone from perfect to rotten in the years since Harry had been left on his doorstep. He had been happy in his marriage to Petunia; she had borne him a healthy son and seemed pleased to be a housewife. His home was perfect and lovely, in the suburbia of Little Whinging. Everything had been beautiful, until the moment he had awoken to Petunia's shocked screams.

That boy had ruined his perfect life and Vernon hated him for it. Petunia was not as happy as a house wife as she had once been, she nagged at him about money and snipped whenever he mentioned his sister Marge was coming to visit. She complained about how few friends she had and how awful the neighbors were. Dudley often caused trouble at school and he had to apologize several times to parents in the neighborhood for his son's abrasive nature. He had not gotten a promotion at Grunnings in years and he hated his coworkers. Life was not as perfect as it should have been.

The party goers were shooed away and Dudley was sent to Pier's house to play with his friends and all the while Vernon's face remained a vivid shade of red. No, Vernon was not a happy man, and it was all that boy's fault.

Vernon drug him into the house pulling him past the brightly decorated kitchen into the living room, his grip tight enough to leave bruises on Harry's arm.

"How could you do this to us? After all we did for you!" Petunia's screeches had reached unheard highs, and Harry absently wondered if the glasses would shatter.

"We gave you shelter, fed you, from the goodness of our hearts and this is how you repay us!" Vernon shook him and Harry's heart rate spiked. His uncle was angrier than the young boy could ever remember him being.

Harry was very scared. His breathing turned shallow and he wondered if Vernon would actually beat him this time.

"Answer us boy! You did this on purpose didn't you? Answer me!" Vernon gave him another hard shake to emphasize his point.

"N-no, sir." The answer was shaky and breathless, hardly above a whisper.

"Lies! All lies! Well I'm tired of your freakishness boy! I'm not going to stand for it anymore! If you are going to stand there and disrespect me, I'll make sure you never speak another lie to my face again!" Vernon's meaty hands wrapped around the fragile throat of Harry's eight (I'm almost nine!) year old throat.

Little fingers clawed at him but Vernon felt nothing but anger. Small fists pounded his back begging him to stop before he went too far, but he was deaf to anything but his own thoughts. Vernon was not a happy man.

White spots flooded his vision, his mouth gasping trying to find the air that should have easily flowed through his windpipe. He clawed at the hands holding him and the face above him but nothing helped. He struggled but no Strange Things happened to make Uncle Vernon stop or disappear. It became harder and harder to lift his arms, to even stay awake, until slowly Harry slipped into unconsciousness.

Petunia screamed and cried and begged but Vernon did not let go. She grabbed his hands and tried to pry them off but she was weak from her complacency. Finally she collapsed next to her husband and watched as her nephew slowly stopped showing signs of struggling or moving and simply lay still. The only movement was the slight jerk of his body when Vernon shook him, muttering angrily, "This is all your fault boy. All your fault!"

Sobs ripped through her and for the first time in her life, Petunia truly regretted her actions. (I said I was sorry!)

"Vernon, Vernon! S-stop! Please, oh please stop!"

Eventually, when the door opened and Dudley called out that he was home, Petunia would stand up and make her way to the phone. She would quietly tell Dudley to go up to his room, snapping at him when he complained, relieved when he complied. She would call the police and tell them in monotone that she was pretty sure her husband had strangled her eight year old nephew.

Harry's life was unhappy and tragically short.