Disclaimer - I don't own the Potterverse. If I did, I would be living in England right now, expecting my third child and writing my 6th book. I am just borrowing JKR's characters and settings for a little play time and I promise faithfully that a.) I am not going to make money off this and b.) I will put all JKR's toys back in the box when I am through.
Author's Notes: Second fan fic (never finished the first one, school got so in the way but I will endeavor to do better on this one) so be nice and R&R. If you want to post it somewhere, get permission please. In this chapter, aka the prologue, anything in the story in italics are JKR's words from The Prisoner of Azkaban from pages 179 and 240 (American Edition).
"James! Oh god, James, please pick up the damn mirror!" Sirius screamed into the mirror in his hand as he climbed onto his motorbike, holding it in front of him, tears streaming down his face as he jammed the keys into the ignition. Scarcely paying attention to what he was doing, he kicked the bike to life and lifted off immediately, not caring if a hundred muggles saw the bike flying in the air and his wand was snapped in half because of it. "Please, James, please, Voldemort knows!"
A little earlier, at Godric's Hollow, Lily and James had just put baby Harry down for bed and turned to each other with a grin at their success for it wasn't often that Harry went to bed without a bit of a fight. Well, a bit might be an understatement, to say the least. Not that either of them minded it, they adored their son, even if he could be a handful at times. James took Lily's hand and led her out the door, closing it quietly behind him, "You know, love, Harry is going to age me before my time. Did you see him playing with the fire earlier?"
Lily grinned up at her husband, flipping a stray strand of red hair over her shoulder, and smiled fondly at her husband, "He is worse than you were at that age?" She giggled, that low sensuous sound that James could never get enough of, "Not the way your parents tell it, is it?"
James grinned back at her and opened his mouth to reply when he heard something, something muffled, coming from downstairs. Putting a hand across Lily's lips to prevent her from speaking, he motioned for her to stay put while he walked, cat foot quiet, towards the stairs, listening for all that he was worth. Surely not was the thought flitting through both their minds as James eased his way down the stairs while Lily watched from the top, fear crawling up their throats. As James got down to the last five steps, he paused to take out his wand, glancing up to see that Lily had done the same, before going the rest of the way down. Tension showed in every line of his body and he worked his way into the dining room where the sound was clearer.
James stopped dead in his tracks, his heart in his throat, as he finally made out what the noise was; Sirius' voice, ragged from the tears and distorted from the wind, screaming at him, "He knows, James, He knows!"
A shadow passing at the back door had James whirled around, yelling, "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" He would have said more but he tripped over the chair in his path. His mind had the barest second to recognize it as Harry's baby chair before the back door burst open and Lord Voldemort filled it. Not stopping to banter, running on sheer adrenalin and reflexes, James pointed his wand at Voldemort and threw every single spell he could think of at him. A flash of blue light flared around the downstairs, only to be followed by a snake's hissing and a brilliant green light, and James fell to the floor, his last thought a desperate plea that Lily had taken Harry and run for it.
Upstairs, Lily had frozen in shock at James' words. Unable to move, she stared down the stairs, her hands over her mouth. The tears started to flow as she heard a cackle of high-pitched laughter but that broke her out of her paralysis. James is dead her mind screamed even as she turned and ran for Harry's room. Reaching the door, she yanked it open and was just reaching for Harry when she felt His presence behind her. "Not Harry," she screamed at Voldemort, defiantly whirling around to face him, "not Harry, please not Harry!"
Voldemort stood in the doorway and grinned at Lily, scaring her even more than she already was, "Stand aside, you silly girl." He said lazily, pointing his wand directly at her chest, "stand aside, now."
He would have said more, she would rather die than let him speak another word, "Not Harry!" All the spells she had ever learned were useless against such evil; she knew it and, more to the point, so did Voldemort. All she had left was to beg, "please no, take me, kill me instead." The feral grin that stretched across Voldemort's face was enough to keep her going, "Not Harry! Please, have mercy." A green light emanated from Voldemort's wand, he had spoken the killing curse but her screaming had drowned out the words, "have mercy..."