The Emerald Rose {Harry Potter}{Dark!Harry}

The Emerald Rose~4

2 years later

A dirty grey cat hopped around the garbage bins in between two rusty old buildings.

The cat had a strange air about it, with muddy paws, sore from so much walking, tail swishing nervously from time to time and abnormal glowing red eyes.

Honestly, couldn't he have foud a better body to posses? Apparently not.

Voldemort scowled as the cat body became weak and the small joints of the creature were about to snap from exhaustion.

Just before he was about to pass out, a warm hand lifted his almost cold body. He could slowly make out the shape of a man, a door, then a warm feeling.

He let the darkness overcome him, oblivious to the barks, meows and a single solitary hiss that echoed around him.

A few hours later, after he had deposited the young feline in a cage, the shopkeeper returned with a bowl of warm milk.

To his surprise, what he found was merely a ball of cold fluffiness lying unmovingly on the floor of the cage.

He also noted, that while he was gone, his Black Mamba snake, a young male that he had just manages to smuggle over the border, had vanished without a trace.

He was sure that if by any chance, people started dropping dead in the middle of London, then it wouldn't be his fault.

No, he had never had a snake in his shop. Truly, what kind of honest owner would he be if he had the audacity to put a highly dangerous snake around innocent puppies, kitties, parrots and little fish?

So the shopkeeper merely shrugged and turned back to the counter. The only problem he had that moment were the money he could have gotten on the snake...and throwing the body of a cat.

One week later

Somehow Voldemort had managed to return to Riddle Mannor in Little Hangleton, and after a painfully long blood ritual, he succeeded in regaining his body.

Not a second to spare, the man took a piece of parchment and a quill and started scribbling down some instructions, as well as his further plans.

He concentrated hard on his memory, beacuse his head was a little fuzzy.

'A green light...cries...a lighning bolt shaped scar... and a name... what name? Han...Had...Harry! That was it! Harry Potter! That bloody child had killed me? It isn't possible...but perhaps...no...leave it alone. I have other matters to do.' Thought Voldemort contemplating the hazzy images in his mind.

Another image flashed through his head as he remembered the only happy thing that had happened recently.

He could recall the blurry face of a young boy, a soft giggle and a sweet childlike voice. He tried to remember more, but a splitting headache struck him and he gave up.

Voldemort raised and called for one Death Eater that he knew, a rat that always answered his call.

~Nagini, my ssswet sssnake. Would you mind bringing that rat Pettigrew to me sssweetheart?~ he gently cooed at the beautiful snake coiled around his throne.

~Of courssse my massster. I ssshall bring you your ssservant without fail. But where isss the little hatchling? Hasss he not come here with massster?~ the snake pondered.

Voldemort tried to remember the hatchling Nagini was speaking about but his head protested against it. Apparently he had some kind of amnesia.

With a wave of his hand he motioned to Nagini to leave.

~Go now darling. My head isss killing me and i ssseem to be misssing a piece of my memory. I need to rearrange my thoughtsss.~ he hissed at the snake then he stood up from his throne.

Nagini slithered through the door and left her master alone. Voldemort entered a room at the back of his study and flopped himself down on the bed. He was phisically and magically exhausted and his head wasn't helping either.

He fell asleep thinking about the laughter of a baby, not even knowing why the memory brought a small smile on his lips.

No. 4, Privet Drive

The whip the boy's back with a sharp crack. Harry barely flinched, eyes a dulled green as he lay on the ground almost motionless, the belt tying his hands and tied to the bed post didn't jerk once.

The whip hit again and Harry felt drops of blood run down his back. So he was bleeding again. It had taken two hits. He felt hit after hit fall until he no longer could tell pain from reality and the bed from blood.

His back was burning and splatters of blood flew back with the whip. Finally it stopped and he was still silent. He hadn't opened his mouth once.

"That'll teach you to never get stickers from the teacher. This belongs to Dudley!" Vernon hissed above him and ripped the star-shaped sticker from the child's shirt, that had landed in a pile on the floor before the beating started.

Then Harry was grabbed violently, the belt untied from the bed post but still keeping his wrists tied together. He was dragged across the floor leaving a trail of smeared blood behind.

Then he was picked up by the belt, dangling from his wrists as Vernon roughly carried him down the stairs.

He was thrown into his cupboard with force, feeling his back light with even more pain as he hit the wood, arching away with the force. Harry fell limp to the floor as he heard the door slam shut.

His green eyes slowly closed as a sole thought ran through his head. Where was the ruby-eyed man that brought him comfort each night? The boy fell asleep with only the memory of a hand carresing his cheek.