Three years later

Harry and Alice Potter.

Smart.

Cunning.

Untrusting.

Thieves.

Runaways.

Those are five words to describe the ten year old Potter twins.

After running away the two lived on the streets together. Living off whatever little money they could find, going to bed hungry every night.

A month later they realised that begging wasn't going to help much. So they resorted to trickery.

Others might call it scamming.

Harry was very talented at pick pocketing. He had nimble fingers and an innocent face. No one would ever think that the small green eyed orphan would steal.

Harry soon realised that stealing was just something he had to do, he pushed any guily feelings to the side and did what he had to do to get his next meal. He would take someone's wallet, take some money, then pretend that they'd dropped it and give it back. They often gave him some money in thanks.

If not money he would steal jewellery or beads.

Alice would sell little things she made on the street just outside the leaky cauldron from the things Harry stole

Braclets, wood carvings, paintings. Anything really. She was very good with her hands. But art supplies were hard to come by and expensive, so once a month, Harry risked everything and stole from an art store, stuffing everything into his worn backpack.

After three years they made a name for them self's, they weren't just two runaways.

They were the Darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~

On a particularly hot day in mid July, a family of red heads wearing strange clothes were pulled towards Alice's small table where she sold her things by their seemingly youngest, a small girl with red hair in a ponytail.

Harry was leaning against the old brick wall, hidden in the shadows, his shirt stuck to his body from sweat. This was where he stood most days, watching over his sister as she sold her things.

One time an idiot made the mistake of trying to steal from Alice. Harry had been up in a second, pinning the teenager to the ground, demanding that he return the bracelet. When the guy didn't cooperate, Harry punched him square in the face breaking his nose.

Harry had gotten the bracelet back.

The mother, Harry was guessing, pointed to a brown and blue weaved braceket that the young girl had been fawning over the whole time.

As the woman fiddled with her purse, Harry advanced and sat next to his sister, nudging her shoulder lightly.

"Hey Ali." He said smiling softly at his sister, glancing at the group of red heads as the mother spoke quietly to one of the older boys showing him a handful of coins.

The act confused Harry. Their accents gave the impression that they were British, so why was the mother having problems figuring out what coins to use?

"Hey Rye." Alice said back as she expertly wrapped the bracelet in black paper.

For the longest time Alice, for the life her, could not say Harry. So, her younger self had settled on Rye. Like the bread. Even now, the name Harry came out weird and choppy.

Suddenly one of the older boys gasped.

"Mum! Look!" He said pointing right at Harry, his horn summer glasses falling down his nose.

He was pointing to Harry's forehead where he knew a lighting bolt scar sat. Alice had the same one, only hers was on the palm of her hand. When their parents had died in a car crash, shrapnel had cut the almost identical scars into their skin.

Harry, on instinct, tapped his knife down from the makeshift holder on his forearm and into his hand, keeping it concealed. They'd learned quickly that everyone was enemy, except for each other that is.

The small girl gasped, delight spreading across her face.

"Blimey mum! Its Harry and Alice Potter!"

(yay! First real Chapter)