Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. The characters all belong to J.K. Rowling. My only contribution is the story idea.
On Halloween night, 1981 the Potters were enjoying a quiet night in Godric's Hollow. Though they knew that they were in hiding they tried to enjoy the holiday as best as they could. Little did they know of the mysterious figure walking up the path to their front door. Voldemort was grinning, as he thought of this, his most important victory of his life, even greater than that of conquering Death. He was about to kill the only person that could stop him, this so-called "child of the prophecy."
That really peeved him. He scoffed at the idea that anyone could kill him after he has beaten Death, but then again, prophecies were not to be trifled with, even he knew that. Prophecies were dangerous to attempt to change, let alone stop. However, he was going to stop this one tonight. He was going to murder the boy born as the seventh month died.
He cackled at his own ingenious thinking. He had Severus and multiple others out on the prowl looking for anyone who dared appose him, and what would Severus overhear in that oaf of a Dumbledore's bar? Well, none other than a prophecy that claimed that someone would be born to stop him. Severus was well rewarded for his discovery.
Yes, but then Severus heard of his discovery of that Potter man-child siring an heir on the day the child was to be born. Severus begged and pleaded with him for days to spare the girl, the mudblood Lily. In the end Voldemort agreed. Who was he to deny the servant who gave him the information about the boy in the first place.
Killing Potter was easier than Voldemort wanted it to be. He even showed himself to the man-child for a few seconds for him to get ready. Instead Potter yelled for his wife, "Lily. Lily, he's here. He's here. Take Harry and run." He laughed a little at that. The man didn't attempt to go for his wand which was laying on the couch five feet to his right. Potter just charged, his fists clenched and arms outstretched. It was all too easy for Voldemort to raise his wand and whisper the Killing Curse. Potter was launched backward toward the stairs.
As Voldemort walked over the body of the now deceased James Potter he heard a door up stairs close with a creak. He smirked and walked on. There were three doors on the upper floor, one of which held the mudblood and her abomination. A small cry told him which door he should open. With a short spell the door burst open on its hinges and smacked the wall. The mudblood screamed and turned to face Voldemort. "Stand aside, girl," Voldemort demanded.
"Take me instead. Leave him and take me!" Lily screamed. Voldemort asked once more for the mudblood to stand aside and once more she defied him. He was getting irritated now, but he promised Severus. He must remain patient. "Stand aside filth. Your life isn't worth the boy's"
It was then that she stretched her arms out wide and told him that he had to go through her to get to her son. Voldemort had had enough. He would explain to Severus later, but for now there was a mudblood to kill. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" he screamed. The flash of green light lasted only a second and Lily was on the ground dead. Yet, something was wrong. There was still magic in the air, strong magic that made Voldemort start to worry. He needed to get this over with now.
He walked over to the crib and looked down at the boy. This? This is the thing that would stop me? A mere child? he thought. "Avada Kedavra," he yelled out. But instead of killing the boy, the air around him charged with magical energy exploded. Voldemort vaporized on the spot and he could still feel the boy in the crib. This worried him, as he had no idea what happened and what would come to be after this. He needed to hide, and to think. He would go to some distant country and find someone to ensnare and use. Yes, he would return.
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