Chapter 1
31st October 1981
The sky in Godric's Hollow was pitch black by the time Lord Voldemort arrived. Rain lashed against the ground as he made his way to the Potters' cottage. It was past eleven o'clock, the Trick or Treating muggle children had long since retired to their beds, leaving the streets silent, the plastic decorative pumpkins redundant for another year.
He approached the cottage, which stood in silent darkness. The family were already in bed, no doubt sleeping soundly under the false illusion that they were safe. Perhaps this would send a message - when Lord Voldemort is after you, you're never safe.
At long last, the fools had agreed to change their secret keeper from Sirius Black to Peter Pettigrew, ignorant to the fact that Peter was a traitor. He had passed their location straight to Lord Voldemort, ever the faithful servant.
The Potters would already have been dead if he'd had it his way, but he had decided to hold off for a few hours due to the request of Severus Snape. Severus was his most valuable and loyal follower, and for some reason, he had become foolishly infatuated with the mudblood Lily Potter. He had begged Lord Voldemort to spare her life, and - wanting to keep Severus on his good side - he had agreed. The Dark Lord had decided to come to the cottage later that night, when the Potters would be in bed, in the hopes that Lily wouldn't get in his way. If she did prove to be a problem, he would not hesitate to take her out too. Killing the infant - Harry Potter - was just too important of a mission, and could not be compromised just to save Severus Snape's feelings. Not that Lily Potter could even dream of being a match for the Dark Lord.
Lord Voldemort knew that the house would have wards, despite the fact they had a secret keeper. The wards would likely inform the Potters to his arrival as soon as he crossed the threshold, so he would have to be quick. He swept up the garden path, raising his wand to the door. With one spell, it was blasted off its hinges, and he swiftly flew up the stairs and into what he knew to be the child's bedroom. He barely registered the screams of Lily Potter as he pointed his wand at the hysterical toddler, casting the killing curse. A flicker of relief passed through him as the child fell, lifeless, to the bottom of the cot, just like every other person who had been on the receiving end of the curse. Whoever could have thought that a mere toddler could have been a match for him? They had certainly been proven wrong now.
As Lily and James burst into the room, Lord Voldemort flew out the bedroom window with his wand, before taking off, flying out of it and away from the grounds of the cottage. When he was beyond the reach of their anti-apparition wards, he disapparated.
James had to stop Lily from hurling herself out of the window after Voldemort. He held her around the waist as she flailed, screamed and swore, shooting spells outside at the empty sky.
Eventually her fury subsided as her attention turned to her dead son in the cot. Anger faded - shock, grief, and hysteria took over. She scooped Harry's limp body out of the cot and hugged him tightly to her chest. She didn't even need to check to know that he was gone - no one survived that curse. Sobs ripped from her chest, her screams could he heard from across the village through the shattered window.
"Not Harry!" she choked out, James holding her tighter than he ever had before, "Please, not Harry!"