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Summary
“Who are you?” What was going on? Why was he across Europe, having no recollection of how–
“I am Tom Marvolo Riddle, “ He declared intently, stepping out into the light. He was an old man, wrinkled and crinkled, grey hair on his head and a charming smile so disarming Harry clutched the covers, “Or, as you may know me, Lord Voldemort.”
Harry wanted to throw up. Or possibly kill himself. Because if he was here, in Italy, waking up to Voldemort by his bedside, he was most certainly kidnapped. Oh gods– Harry had been plucked right out of Hogwarts, and here he was, for Voldemort to torture and kill.
This was his end.
“No Harry,” The older man– no Voldemort – “This is just the beginning.”
Or
Harry is kidnapped. Only to reappear two years later, intent on spending his last school year in Hogwarts, and everything would be just like they were before if it wasn't for one small tiny thing- he was engaged, to Lord Voldemort.