Chapter One.

Godric's Hollow,

31st October, 1991.

The night is quiet with the sound of flickering electricity from the elderly street lights, which loomed either side of the narrow street, curved over the cobble road like protective giants. The cottage was white fronted with wooden beams stuck both vertically and horizontally to add unneeded age, despite the strange largeness of the home, the living room within was small and cosy, with fluffy cream carpet covers the floor and shelves on the painted blue walls with a red sofa with a matching armchair.

I sit on the sofa clutching my son, Harry, in my arms protectively. On the armchair that has been angled to face slightly towards the sofa, my husband James was seated cuddling our daughter, Grace, in his arms singing a muggle lullaby I recognise from my childhood. The pair were getting fussy, so we place them both on the carpet floor together and James removes his wand from his back pocket, flicked his wrist sending a stream of glittery bubble from the tip.

Grace and Harry gurgled in glee and clumsily reached out for the bubbles that burst into shoots of colour at their touch, and every so often they would accidentally hit each other in the face or fall into one another but neither cared. The twins – yes, twins – never enjoyed being apart, and if for any reason they had to be separated, Harry and Grace would be grumpy until reunited, however, together the pair were incredibly sneaky – which, of course, James and Sirius think is hilarious.

As I sit on the sofa, my elbows on my knees with my head in my hands, I watch my children laugh and play with no care in the world, I feel sickness lay heavy in my stomach like a lead and my chest clenches with anxiety.

The pair 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 them as his equal, but they will have power the Dark Lord knows not...

And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live whilst the others survive...

The pair with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...

The prophecy was made by Sybill Trelawney to Albus Dumbledore at the Hog Head pub. It refers to twins born at the end of July. This was James and my fault. Tears threaten to spill out of my eyes as a solid lump forms in my throat. My husbands eyes flicker over to me but I continue staring at our children, only fifteen months old, Harry twelve minutes older than Grace.

James comes to sit beside me on the sofa, he grips my hand tightly, squeezes it before pulling me into the warmth of his body which I accept gratefully. He kisses the top of my head before rubbing the back of my neck, "He won't get them, they are safe." he whispers in my ear.

Despite nodding, my body still shook in nerves mixed with terror and my palms sweated as my hands shake with useless and unknown amounts of adrenaline. My stomach remained heavily and unsettled as my chest just seemed tighter than ever making breathing steadily difficult.

"I'm going to put them to bed." I announce before standing up then scooping up my children, one in each arm, James kisses Harry on his forehead and Grace on her cheek before whispering that he loves them. He then leans in to kiss my lips softly.

"I'll be up in a minute, Lils." he whispers. Smiling, I turn to exit the living room, passing the front door which always remained locked, turned left to begin climbing the stairs.

Halfway up the stairs to the nursery the twins shared, I hear the echo of not to distant footsteps, I hear the rustling of James' newspaper, the turning of a lock and then, a loud crash. I almost fall over on the stairs and with my arms filled with my children, lunging for my wand that is now two steps down the stairs behind me, was impossible.

"Lily!" James cried, the seer tone of my husbands voice terrified me more than anything, "Lily, take Harry, Grace and go! It's him! Run! I'll hold him off –"

I'm frozen with fear, but at the sound of stomping footsteps, spells being shouted, flashes of lights and small crashes and bangs. A sudden jolt of determination to avoid my fate filled me as I sprint up the stairs to a small landing and up to a second set of stairs – only four steps – to the door of the nursery. I place the twins down in their cot, closed the rooms door and locked it with surprisingly steady hands.

Tears suddenly brim my eyes as the twins begin to whine, it has only really just hit me what was truly awaiting them, they are only babies. Harmless. Taking a deep breath, I kneel down by the cot and studied my beautiful children. A boy with black hair and a girl with dark red hair, both staring up at me with fearful green eyes – my eyes.

"Hush." I coo gently, a yell followed by a sickening thud on the stairs echoed through the eerie house, forcing a sob to escape from my lips. No, James! I scream in my mind as tears flood fiercely and freely down my cheeks. A high-pitched evil laugh pierced through the house, bouncing off the walls and grasping my body.

"Mummy loves you, Harry. Daddy loves you, Gracie. We love you both so much." I choke, another sob is muffled by my hands as green light suddenly appears in the dimness, illuminating around the door frame before the wood shatters and flies into the nursery. I turn quickly with shaking knees, shielding the crib containing my children with my body as I face my fate.

He stood there, in the doorway in a full length, black cloak with the hood up, the skin of the wizard was whiter than paper, paler than anything I had ever seen, his head looks around curiously at the scene, his slitted grey eyes gobbled up the images in front of him. I raise my arms higher at my sides to protect more of the crib. The Dark Lord grins mockingly, the bastard smiles as he chuckles in contempt of my feeble protection.

"Not Grace and Harry," I plead, "Please, not them."

The wizard steps into the room, "Stand aside, you stupid girl."

I shook my head, "Not Grace and Harry," I repeat, more confidently and filled with determination, "Take me instead!"

He takes another large, confident step towards me, studying my strong expression as he stand over me, wand held in his long slender finger, ready.

"Have mercy! They are just infants!" I beg, he – Voldemort – grinned and raised his wand. "Please! Have mercy! Please –"

"Avada Kedavra." he spoke with no emotion, I turned swiftly on the balls of my feet to take one last glimpse at my children before the unforgettably familiar stream of bright green light clasped my body. And with the last sight of my children's faces, the world around my goes black.

James and Lily Potter were dead. Killed in their home in Godric's Hollow. The Dark Lord lets out a cold laugh that echoed menacingly through the house and in the surrounding air as he stepped over the open-eyed corpse of Lily Potter to reach the cot where the Potter twins sat with wet cheeks and snotty noses. Grace wailed at the sight of the flat-faced wizard but Harry didn't, he simply stared down at his mothers body.

Voldemort pointed his wand at the infants, he grinned in delight as he felt an overwhelming rush of power cause through his body as he raised his wand above his head and as he brought it down, he screamed at the top of his lungs: "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The green light soared from the end of his want, it hit the twins and illuminated the door, but something strange happened. The green light then rebounded an a violent roar settled in Voldemort's ears, suddenly, he felt pain pulsing through his body. Something is wrong, he thought as his limbs became stiff and his chest tight, something was very, very wrong.

Then, a yell of pain followed by the light removing itself from the Potter twins, striking Voldemort whose body began to glow with the green light and then suddenly, the light shot out in all directions, shattering the windows, removing paint from the walls and breaking small sections of the houses interior.

When the light settled back to normal with nothing but a lamp lighting the nursery dimly, on the floor lays pieces of shattered wood, splinters of jagged glass, rubble and the body of Lily. Almost the items also laid the black clock that once belonged to Voldemort.

And in the crib sat Harry and Grace Potter, unharmed except for matching, freshly cut lightening bolts. The cuts were no bigger than ¾ of an inch big. Harry's was carved into the left side of his forehead and Grace's was on her right cheek, staring a centimetre and a half from the outer corner of her right eye.

It wasn't long after the tragic event that an unlikely hero appeared to rescue the abandoned and newly orphaned Potter twins, a huge man who needed to duck to enter the nursery, he collected the twins from their destroyed home before muggles could begin poking about. He wrapped the infants in warm blankets, neither of them knowing how special they are. Not knowing how famous they have become.

They couldn't know that that, even in this horrid moment, people are meeting in secret all over the country and holding their glasses up, saying in hushed voices:

"To Harry and Grace Potter – the children who lived!"

A/N: Hi there! This is my first Harry Potter based fanfiction so please be nice! Please comment! ~ Valerie.