A hand moved outwards to meet with a much tinier one, paler and slightly wrinkled. The tiny fingers barely wrapping around the pointer finger with a gurgle. The baby so young and so very tiny. A smile pulled at taunt lips as red met hazel brown eyes.

The man-more Corporal then the dreaming one of him watched as he-as a past self of him picked the child up and out of the crib in the large room and held them close. Happy baby gurgles issuing from the lips as will as bubbles of saliva.

He was confused and that was the weirdest thing. He should have remembered this seeing as this was definitely a memory-it had to be. Otherwise why would he be having a dream like this? If he had a child with someone. He should have remembered...but why couldn't he? He doesn't remember doing anything with any female to make a small being. So why was a he dreaming of a younger him, holding a black haired and hazel eyed pale baby?

Waking with a gasp, Tom held the silk sheets to his bare chest as the dream fled his mind with questions trailing behind. Nagini wrapping herself around his trembling form with a hiss of worry. His eyes met hers and blinked as he realized he was indeed awake. But a headache was blossoming and he wasn't sure if it would get worse before it got better.

His feet swung from the bed of silks and met cold stone floor. His mind picking up that it was the same if not closely similar to what he saw in the dream. He then remembered a castle of his, one he had forgot he had. But felt it would be to dangerous to use as a base while he was staying in the shadows-or...he felt he should avoid it and that causes suspicion. Quickly he showered and ate before informing the Malfoys that he would be back when he was back. They only nodded and didn't speak a word.

His apparition still needed some work but he found him self in the castle mansion. He had named it-what had he named it? It's been either so long or something has tampered with his mind. And this concerned him more then the dream had.

Walking around he found the place dusty and unused, yet there was a sense it was well lived in and loved. Especially a sitting room when he came across it, books were piled on a coffee table still opened. A drink with mildew clinging to it and causing a much stronger scent of mold. The couches had throw blankets and pillows arranged as if they were to comfort someone laying down. The fireplace broken and unlit.

Tom could imagine it lit and giving a homey feel to the somewhat clustered clean room. He could faintly remember-faintly the presence of someone and himself feeling the warmth of a strong fire. The gurgling of a baby reaching his ears in a tickling fashion. His chest grew tight. Anxiety he deduced-spread from his chest to his fingertips.

He exited the room and found himself in a bedroom. The bed broken and the sheets poured onto the floor to collect the dust. Why could he hear screams from here that weren't his or anyone he knows? Or maybe he's never heard anyone scream in horror quite like that. He couldn't even remember the night he killed the Potters. Even though he felt-or thought he did at least....

Blinking he found himself in front of a door, opening it his breath caught in his throat as he looked into the adjoined room to see the same nursery from his dream just that morning. The room was a mess. The walls had become darkly stained in spikey explosions of spells that marked the walls. Pictures fallen and broken. Dresser toppled over. Clothes scattered.

Chest tightening as his eyes laid open what looked like a cradle, surrounded by a curtain. He walked forward with fear-anxiety beating in his chest-his hands shaking ever slightly. The word-the name of a child scripted on the footboard facing him. Hardleear. He moved his lips to the sounding of the name-he felt his lips wanting to form another sound that just wouldn't come. When he was closer he looked in and found nothing. And for some reason this broke his heart-a familiar feeling of something deeper hidden in his memory.

Suddenly as if he was hit with a brick he fell with a gasp as the words of the Prophecy echoed in his ears. Flashes and sounds. His name being called-the smell of a potion brewing. The shriek of a baby. The for some reason the prophecy came strongly to mind-The one that made him go after the Potters. As their son would cause him his downfall. Yet...why did it sound as if it was enchanted to his ears?

Something was amiss...

He held his head. As even as it played he felt it wasn't real. It echoed deeply into his head-as if trying to imbed itself deeper. But something-something was keeping it from doing so.

Looking up he pulled himself up in stubborn defiance. His hand rubbing the dust off the cradle. He frowned. Then looked out the large window. Seeing the trees green and beautiful. Untouched but witnesses to the land around them.

He needed to see that Prophecy.

His eyes looked at the cradle and fell in a somber look.

"So-I have a son?" He spoke-the sound sounding like it was yelled out instead of a near whisper in the empty destroyed room.

He needed to look for his son to.

____

Harry rubbed at his hand, it itches bad-his father had tried to sooth it. But the dark magic of a blood quill was not easily fixed. His hand would scar from the abuse, and the words that made the scars would be something he would t ever be able to forget. He sighed. Wondering if he could scratch them out but decided against it for his fathers sake.

Sitting up from his bed, near to his fathers. He decided to go ask his dad something when he walked in himself making it easier for Harry. But he stopped from his quest for cookies to see his dad frowning. "Dad?"

Looking up the man smiled at Harry before frowning again at the paper in his hands. "Nothing to special but Hermès was able to give me some information while he looks for what I originally was looking for."

"What is it?" He perked up as he walks over and his dad gives him the letter. Then he to frowned like his father. Hermès had been told of a prophecy that was a fraud and involved himself. "Can we find it?" He asks his dad. He wants to know what the Prophecy said.

He nodded. "Sure, tonight or tomorrow?" His dad asks putting the paper on his bed to turn to his dad.

"Tonight." He says as determined as could  be, he wanted to know.

"Alright, get ready-tournament ready. Just in case someone else goes looking for it tonight okay?" Percy speaks as he walks to his closet connected to the bedroom. Looking for his own armor and cloaks.

Rolling his eyes, he couldn't help but let a bark of a laugh. "Wouldn't that just be our luck?" He responds as he catches his gear and starts putting it on over his clothes.

Percy already dressed as all he would have to do is snap his fingers. "Let's try not to jinx ourselves Harry."

"Sorry dad." Harry spoke as they found themselves holding two balls of gooey white clouds and it whispered soft words towards them as they ran from a fast approaching figure, another one in an opposite row of them. They had definitely jinxed themselves.

Percy skidded them around a corner. He cursed himself. He should have been able to leave but for some reason he couldn't. He was able to get there with a bit of difficulty but he didn't have the energy he needed. And apparition wasn't an option in a place that's anti apparition.

"Dad!" Harry yelled as they found themselves in a doorway that led to a large circular room with a curtained doorway at the bottom. Quickly they went down the narrow stairs. But were stopped when a figure with a skull mask and pointed robes stood before them and another with dark robes fluttering from behind.

It was Tom Riddle himself his wand pointing at the two with a frown. "Give me the prophecy." He spoke calmly.

"Or, since we came for the same thing, listen to it together?" Percy offered as he kept Harry close to himself.

Tom actually conceded quicker the Percy thought, which he found somewhat strange and very anticlimactic considering they were just chased like a game of cat and mouse. But he grabbed the fake one, it was a lot dimmer then the one Harry clutched to his chest. Tom eyeing the boy that glared with bright green eyes. Yet...he shook of his thoughts of Havel eye and focused on the words of the prophecy while Percy tried to shake off how quickly they stopped trying to kill each other for the moment.

"The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies....and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither could live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the Dark lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

It hisses and Percy held Harry closer as he eyes the mist that disappeared from the glass ball. That wasn't supposed to happen. Tom was confused to.

"A fake?" He asked wand arm relaxing as his mind swirled with his confirmed suspicions.

"Impossible...." The word made Percy's eyes whip to the dark brown and he glared. Of course. Severus was on the Dark Lords side, at least that's why he guessed why he hadn't talked to him and stopped being his friend-he should have figured but he had hoped-against all the facts he was wrong. He would pout about it later.

"Quite possible actually." Percy retorts with a roll of his eyes.

Tom eyes went back to the one in Harry's hand, ignoring the heated glare coming from the boy. "What does that one say?"

Percy shrugs. "Now that is none of your business. This is Harry's personal one. Doesn't have you in it. One made before he was probably even conceived. For him alone."

Rolling his eyes his wand was back up and pointing at the clammy looking Percy. "Then it shouldn't be much of a problem to me if he read it here and now."

Harry sighed as he was getting irritated before he stepped around his father. "Fine."

"Harry-okay fine." Percy spoke when he tried to speak to his son but knew he would be determined to get Tom off their backs. He didn't want to deal with his biological parents any longer then needed.

Harry this time let it read out. Listening to a voice much older yet softer then the one before. Percy recognized the voice and sighed. Who would have though Apollo would have given Harry a prophecy? He wondered if the eccentric god of sun remembers it.

"The boy, not born, born to two fathers adopted by another pair and then finally in the hands of loyalty incarnate. He will grow healthy and happy, if not troubled by the misdeeds fate hands him. He will bring the wizarding world to a new era. Lead a war to save ones he loves, Lead to victory against the light."

Harry stared wide eyed as it stopped and went back to swirling with fevor in the glass ball.

Tom and Severus stared at Harry. What did it all mean for them?

Percy shaking the sudden bout of dizziness grabbed Harry by the arm and suddenly they were back in the room. Percy collapsing soon after, having used what remained of his suddenly waning strength.

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