"Brother!" A high pitched voice rolls through the room. Harry turns in his bed in irritation. The small girly voice was too energetic for a Monday morning. Didn't the little girl have class?
Harry froze in his turn. Little girl?
He threw himself off the bed that was suddenly too cold and too hard to be his comfortable four-poster bed in the Gryffindor dormitory. He fell right on his back on the badly made wooden floor that was cold enough to give him hypothermia.
A four-year-old girl with stringy black hair and a soft round face peered down at him. Harry would have burst out laughing at the concern on the little girl's face if he wasn't panicking. "Harry, are you alright." The girl asked innocently. She didn't pronounce her r's and there was something very different about her accent which definitely would have been looked down on in London.
Harry leaned on his arm for support. He smiled at the girl nervously. "Yes, I'm alright, thank you. I just had a nightmare, no worries-" Harry stopped speaking. His accent was different, too! He tried to shift the weird voice but all that happened was the little girl starting giggling.
"Mama said that you have to come eat breakfast." She blinked her large blue eyes at him before dashing out the door, sending the small wooden sculpture on the small desk spinning dangerously.
Mama? Breakfast? Harry's head was hurting and it seemed to only be 8 o' clock in the morning, if the sun was anything to go by. Harry peered out the window in fascination as a completely different sight welcomed him. Yards and yards of greenland rolled down the outside, small cottage like houses at different ends. People pulled wagons filled with fruit and vegetables down the pavement and some old lady was selling necklaces and rings by the alley of two houses.
Harry studied the new room. It wasn't much compared to the Dursleys house which was, mind you, very boring and stereotypical which took out the beauty of the neighborhood. It had a desk set in the corner of the room, the wooden sculpture leaning against the wall for support. It had books and notebooks made of animal skin as well as quills and parchment paper. Various paintings of birds and nature hung around the room and Harry's small bed was the center of it all. The closets were pushed against the wall left to his bed and a dresser to its right. The walls were a peeling mess of peach colored paint and a door Harry assumed was the bathroom was perched next to the closets.
The little girl stuck her head into the doorway again. "Come on, come on!" She cried. "You have not even changed yet." The girl walked over to his closet, all business, and pulled open the door. She grabbed a pair of black tight jeans and a loose white t-shirt before throwing it at him. Harry stared in shock at the 3'4 menace that was running through (his?) room.
He reluctantly picked up the clothes from the floor. "I'll need to shower first." The little girl shrugged before pointing at the bathroom door.
"Be out quick or the eggs will get cold." She skipped away, again, and Harry quickly locked the door behind her. He didn't want her barging into his bathroom while he was butt-naked under the shower head.
The bathroom wasn't much, either, but Harry quickly scrubbed on the soap to get out of the foreign bathroom. Where was he and what was this place? Has someone kidnapped him? No, it couldn't be, because Hogwarts had all kinds of wards to fend off unwanted visitors. It was the safest place in the world.
Maybe he was dreaming. But, Harry noticed miserably, the soap bar in his hand felt too real to be a figment of his imagination. Now he was going to have to put up with that small girl for the rest of his life. Wonderful.
He was more slender than he had been in Hogwarts, Harry noticed in fascination as he looked at himself in the mirror. His face was softer and his cheeks more chubby. His green eyes hadn't changed– bright as ever, but his smile had also shifted into something more innocent.
I can live with this change. Harry thought, a smile creeping up on his face. Now only to run away from here.
A bang on the door pulled him out of his stupor. It was probably the little girl again, coming to ruin his well deserved peace.
But he heard another voice at the receiving end of the door. It was softer and more careful, honey like a lullaby. "Now, now Katrina." The woman said soothingly. "Harry must be almost ready." A softer knock echoed through the door.
Harry walked over and unlocked the door. The woman stepped inside and Harry's stomach dropped. She had a gorgeous face and long rivulets of red hair that were pulled back with an orange hair clip. Her eyes mirrored Harry's own. A smile tugged on her lips at the mess in his room and she ruffled his hair.
"M-mum?" Lily Potter raised an eyebrow. She brushed aside the fringe on his face, curling her hand under his jaw lovingly.
"Yes, honey?"
Harry stared at her, drinking her presence in. His mother was here, alive and happy, smiling down at him as if she wanted him to know he was her whole universe. Katrina, the little girl, tugged at her mothers dress, a wide smile on her face. She looked like a smaller version of Lily Potter without the red hair and green eyes.
Lily gently took his arm and led him outside his room. "I'm sure you're hungry." She looked down at him sadly. "I'm sorry I couldn't make you a large good breakfast. The only thing we could afford today was eggs."
Harry shook his head furiously, still dazed. "No, it's okay! I like eggs." Lily's face broke into a wide grin and Harry's heart thumped. She pulled him against her chest before kissing him on the forehead.
"Your father will be here in a few moments, Harry." Lily said, pulling him a chair to sit on at the kitchen table. His plate was filled with egg and ketchup with orange juice on the side. Harry sat down immediately. This breakfast wasn't his favorite, but since his mother had made it, he would eat it for the rest of his life.
Harry picked up his fork, bracing himself to shovel into his food. Lily leaned against the table. "Your husband is going to pick you up today."
Harry choked on his egg. Lily laughed but quickly covered her mouth. "H-husband? Who?"
She rolled her eyes fondly. "Just because he left after the marriage day a few days ago doesn't mean you forgot him already, Harry. Tom was at some business straight after the wedding and he promised he'd pick you up after he was done with it. But you know that, of course."
"Tom." Harry repeated. "As in. . . ?"
"Tom Marvolo Riddle, of course." She said, "Charming devil, isn't he? You would have thought James was jealous with the way he was acting around him at the wedding."
Harry was married to Lord Voldemort. Oh god.
"Why are we married?"
Lily spat out her juice.
"What do you mean, why?" She laughed. "Because you love each other, don't you? Tom made that very clear when he had the guy who was hitting on you executed two weeks ago." She bit down into her own helping of eggs. "Anyway, he's gonna be here with James in a few and you better not act weird around him. I think you got a concussion from that fall when you woke up."
Harry tried to process all that in. He was married to Tom Riddle, his sworn enemy, and they were very much in love. What the fuck?
Katrina ran over to him with a wooden toy of a man in armour. She dragged him down Harry's leg before jabbing the edge of the tiny sword into his chest. Harry's lips twitched without his consent (the audacity) and Harry ruffled the little girl's hair fondly.
Lily leaned against her arm, starry eyes as she watched the two of them. "Your sister will miss you very much, you know?" Lily said softly, piling up their empty plates. "She cried during the wedding night. Make sure not to forget us, will you?" She joked sadly.
"Never." Harry said confidently. "I'll never forget you, no matter what." Lily brushed a tear from her cheek and gave him a watery smile. She smiled a lot.
With nothing to do, Harry decided to explore the outside for a little bit before he was kidnapped by his worst enemy. But before he could even push in his chair the front door burst open.
Lily ran out the kitchen with Harry hot on her heels. A man with messy hair and hazel eyes and a stocky build stepped into the house. James Potter, his father.
Harry walked forward instinctively and pulled the man in a huge hug. He buried his face in his fathers neck. James laughed, hugging him back. "Miss me?" He said in amusement, pulling back to get a good look on his face.
"Yes." Harry whispered, the lump in his throat resurfacing. James patted him on his back.
"Go now, your jerk of a husband is waiting outside for you." James sighed, shaking his head. "You could have married anyone. Cedric Diggory, Anthony Goldstein, Ronald Weasley. Why that bastard?"
Harry's brain short-circuited at the very familiar names. "James!" Lily cried in outrage. "Stop it! Let the boy leave in peace."
"Oh I suppose." James sighed, pulling Harry into one last hug. Lily crowded in, too, and Harry was suspicious that the tiny arms around his leg were Katrina's.
They leaned back and waved at him in a goodbye. Harry hesitated at the door. "I'll miss you guys." He said firmly. He had known them for less than 30 minutes.
Harry walked out of the house, bracing himself to come face to face with the familiar noseless, bald, evil Voldemort as known as, apparently, his husband.
The sight that greeted Harry was much more surprising. The man that stood outside was tall and handsome, his hard eyes assessing everything. He was decked in all black, a knife in his hand.
His expression quickly softened when his eyes landed on Harry. He dropped his knife on the front lawn and spread his arms. A tug inside Harry's chest forced him to dash inside Voldemort's arms.
He wrapped his arm around Harry's body, burying his face in his hair. "I'm so sorry." He whispered, lovingly dragging his fingers down his neck. "I didn't want to, really. But it was an emergency."
He pulled back, looking down at him. Harry's heart raced at the look in his eyes for all the wrong reasons. He wasn't supposed to feel like this for Voldemort. He'd killed everyone he had loved! Ah, but they are still alive, aren't they? A voice in his head reasoned. This isn't the Voldemort you know. The voice sounded too familiar, but Harry couldn't place it.
Voldemort kissed him. Harry kissed back with all his might, his hands finding the back of his head, tugging at the curls. Voldemort's hand ran down his waist dangerously low.
Harry's eyes fluttered open. The loving look was gone. It wad replaced with cold, red snake eyes.