Harry Potter a new Riddle

Chapter 1: Prologue

'Any of J.K Rowling's storylines and Characters that I use are rightfully hers'

It was a wet and windy night, the last day in October. The man appeared out of nowhere. Tall, pale skinned, and slender, the man strode forward with a sense of purpose, power, and determination. His jet-black hair perfectly styled, it didn't as much as move from the wind. His ice blue eyes were glaring straight ahead. He passed shops with windows covered in paper spiders and children dressed as pumpkins. As he looked around at everyone dressed up in ridiculous costumes, he sneered. 'Filthy muggles.' He thought bitterly to himself. 'I could kill them, it would be so simple, but unnecessary, yes quite unnecessary.' He continued with long gliding strides. He had been waiting for this day for many months, ever since his loyal servant told him of the prophecy.

Oh yes, the prophecy. When he heard it at first he was furious. How could a mere child, an infant at that, be the one to destroy him, the one to lead to his downfall? In the beginning, he was planning to kill the little brat, but then he came up with a much better plan. If the boy was so powerful, why not raise him himself? This way the boy and his power would always be aligned with the dark. 'Oh yes, I can't wait to see the look on Dumbledore's face when he finds his savior gone.' He smiled a malicious smile.

After a few minutes, he came upon the reason he came to the town of Godric's Hallow. He could see it now that the Fidelius was broken, a two-story cottage stood at the end of the street. So beautiful and peaceful it looked. He made less noise than the dead of night did as he strode towards the house. He peered through the front window; they had not drawn the curtains. The occupants inside, like the house, looked quite peaceful for they did not know that this night would be their last. He saw, quite clearly, a man, tall with black hair and glasses sitting upon the floor. Puffs of smoke were coming out of his wand, which a small laughing boy was trying to catch with his little fists.

A door opened and the mother entered, saying words he could not hear, her long dark-red hair falling over her face. Now the father scooped up the son and handed him to the mother. He threw his wand down upon the sofa and stretched yawning.

The gate creaked a bit as he pushed it open, but James Potter did not hear. His white hand (AN sorry I didn't mean for it to sound racist) pulled out the wand beneath his cloak and pointed it at the door which burst open.

He was over the threshold as James came sprinting into the hall. It was easy, too easy; he had not even picked up his wand.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

'Hold me off without a wand in his hand.' The man thought sneering. He laughed before casting the curse. "Avada Kedavra!"

An emerald green light shot from the man's wand, filling the cramped hallway. It caused the banister to glare like lightning rods, and James Potter fell like a marionette whose strings were cut.

He could hear her screaming from the upper floor, trapped like an animal. He climbed the steps listening with faint amusement at her attempts to barricade herself in. She had no wand upon her either. How stupid they were, and how trusting, thinking that their safety lay in friends, that weapons could be discarded even for a moment.

He forced the door open and cast aside the chair and boxes hastily piled against it with a lazy wave of his wand. She stood in the middle of the room with the boy in her arms. At the sight of him, she dropped her son into his crib behind her and threw her arms wide, as if this would help, if he wanted the boy dead he would die. The foolish woman in front of him wouldn't be able to stop it from happening. However, this was not why he was here; the boy was not to die.

"Not Harry, please, not Harry!" The woman screamed, tears rolling down her pale white face.

The man laughed a high, cold cruel laugh. "Avada Kedavra!"