Chapter 1 : Prologue

The tale of the Boy-Who-Defeated-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is a legend in the Wizarding world. There is not a wizard or witch: pure blood; half blood or muggle born, who doesn't know the story of young Harry Potter, who was only fourteen years old when he was forced to take part in the Triwizard Tournament. It was during the final trial of that tournament that he met the newly restored Lord Voldemort face to face. No one knows the details of what actually happened during that battle, but the out-come of it is known by all:

Peter Pettigrew was found alive and in the position of a loyal Death Eater. This therefore led to Sirius Black being cleared of all previous charges and being released from Azkaban Prison.

Several Death Eaters were discovered and arrested, including one Lucius Malfoy.

There were three fatalities that night: Cedric Diggory, the Dark Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter.

Any rejoicing which may have occured for the destruction of the evil wizard was stopped by the despair for the deaths of two who were far too young to suffer the horrors of war. A memorial service was held in both their names and an official day of mourning was named in honour of Harry Potter; the martyr of the Wizarding world, the saviour of everyone.

On a more personal note, the life of Draco Malfoy effectively ended that same day as Voldemort's destruction. He may not have physically died but his spirit wilted and crumbled to dust the second he heard that Harry Potter had sacrificed himself to save them all. For the only Malfoy heir and the Gryffindor Golden Boy had a secret which no one else knew or would ever know; they were in love. They never hated each other, it was an act to protect both Harry and Draco from Draco's father. They had loved each other from the day they had first met, at the tender age of eleven. They hadn't known it straight away of course, but looking back when they were older, they could see that is what happened.

But, if that's all a secret, how do I know it? A very valid question but before I answer, I'll tell you a bit about myself.

My name is Charlemagne Frank. I was born on the 31st of July 1995. I am currently four years old. I am the only son, the only child in fact, of Phillipe Frank and Contessa Frank, the heads of an Upper Class pure-blooded Wizarding family. Neither of my parents take any notice of me, opting instead to spend their time working at the Ministry where they each hold jobs of high importance. There's no doubt in my mind that I was a mere mistake. I have been raised by various Nannies who have ranged from being overly strict to overly soft. I look nothing like either of my parents or any past family member who all have had sunny golden blonde hair and light brown or dark blue eyes. I have dark hair and intense green eyes.

Most of you are probably thinking that I speak very well for a child of my age, and you'd be right if it weren't for the fact that I'm not a child. Yes, I look like one and yes, I was born four years ago. However, I have lived before. I'm what people like to call "a reincarnated soul". I was alive before as someone else, then I died and came back as this. Unlike others who have been reincarnated though, I still have the memories from my previous life which is why I seem so mature.

I remember a flash of green light. I remember living with a cruel uncle and aunt and a cousin who would beat me up for fun. I remember hearing for the first time that I was a wizard by a huge man with a big fluffy beard on my eleventh birthday. I remember meeting a red haired boy and a brown haired girl who soon became my best friends. I remember facing a mad man on two seperate occassions. I remember finding my godfather. I remember my shock at being told I was to participate in the Triwizard Tournament when I hadn't entered. I remember watching as a dear friend was killed trying to protect me. I remember watching as the man who killed my parents was brought back to life with the aid of my blood. I remember killing that man again with the price of my own life as well.

What I remember the most though, is meeting a wonderful blonde haired boy who I fell in love with instantly. We grew closer in secret. We had our first major argument in Third Year which led to my first kiss. He was my family. He was my heart, my soul mate; he still is. He was the last person I spoke to before beginning the final trial of the Triwizard Tournament.

So, you see? That's how I know the truth about what happened in that final confrontation between the Dark Lord Voldemort and the Saviour of the Wizarding world Harry Potter. That's how I know about the secret love between two young boys who had no one else but each other. I was there; everything that happened, happened to me. Despite what people call me in this life, inside, my name is not Charlemagne Frank.

My name was once and, as far as I'm concerned, still is, Harry James Potter; and I remember everything.