The One
"Are you a blessing or a curse? Good or Evil?
Be what you will.... you are destiny!"
.- Black & White
Wednesday, 12th of April, 1980
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Lily gave a slow blink as she stared at the shadow-rich walls. She closed her eyes and pressed her head against the comforting pillow, breathing in the cool night air and cherishing the smooth warmth of the covers against her bare skin.
It usually comforted her, to lie in bed like this, to nestle in the soft. It had always been her safety, but this too was slipping through her fingers. She cupped her stomach, wincing as the tiny life pressed against her bladder.
She sighed as she rolled awkwardly to her feet, her left hand pressed against the wall for support. With a hand on the wall to guide her, she walked slowly towards the door. A silent click and the door opened before her.
Lily took a steadying breath as she made her way past the door. She had hoped it would have been a house-elf this time, but no such luck. She was utterly alone in the hallway.
It was becoming unsettlingly familiar to her now, having doors glide open in her path, chairs tilt to assist her up, and the fireplace flickering to life as a chill came on. And it was always with that same care, as though not wanting to disturb, not wanting to be a bother.
At first Lily had thought it to be some form of pregnancy wards laced in the charm-work of the old place. Merlin knew it was brimming with meshes of if from one end to the other. She had unravel them and recalibrated, respunn and redone the charms all across the house in an effort to find the cause.
She had found nothing.
That was the trouble. That's what unnerved her. There was no explanation for it. No poltergeist or ghost that could be responsible. It simply was.
James had been less than useless in aiding her plight; his bright contribution mostly involved his being away from home. 'To give you space, like." He would say.
Translation: he was scared witless of what sort of manifestation she might be carrying around. Ever since she let him to go off and see Alien with Remus Lupin, James hadn't been able to stop looking at her as though "it" might attack him.
She hoped that she would one day be able to look back on this with a fond sense of memory and have a laugh at her own fears. She desperately wished she would.
Lily traversed the hallway with slow rolling steps, trying to keep herself from stumbling on the carpet and took great care not to bend too far back as it would make the need to pee all that more urgent. She closed her eyes wearily, as the door to the bathroom smoothly opened ahead of her.
Stepping inside she held her eyes closed until she heard the tell-tale click of the door easing itself closed. Sitting carefully down, she put her head in her hands, almost loosing herself over to the tears. Her emotions were so easily overwhelmed and yet at the same time, would change direction mid-stride.
'What's happening to my life?' she question restlessly in her mind.
She shook her head, trying to chuck the thoughts out. Since the start of the third trimester, things had been getting wonky, at first it wasn't really a concern - a spell or two might get a different result or stop working mid-completion, but that could easily happen during a pregnancy. No, the frightening parts started when her charms would suddenly cross over into transfigurations, her conjuring would invoke and just two days ago her wand had stopped responding completely.
Madam Pomfrey had tried to reassure her, but nothing they researched could explain it or even give them a sense of what to expect. Lily was little more than squib at this point and she was getting increasingly worried about what was growing inside of her.
At first, Alice had been her one source of comfort, but as time passed Lily just couldn't stand being around her friend's happiness. Alice was having the most wonderful pregnancy, not even her spells were going nuts! And here was Lily, stuck in the churning magic ride of her life with James nowhere to be found!
She hated the unfairness of it and resented James especially for it.
She stood up slowly and flushed the toilet. She looked woefully at her own eyes in the mirror as she washed her hands.
'It'll be alright, dear.' The mirror said.
'I wish I could believe that,' Lily answered honestly.
The mirror radiated an apology but said nothing.
That was another unsettling occurrence of Lily's pregnancy, for while her own magic seemed to fail her, she appeared to have an increased affinity for sensing the magic around her.
She stepped lightly past the open door and back into the hallway. Her mind was grainy and her eyes tired, but she also knew she couldn't sleep. Her nerves wouldn't let her relax enough for that. She sighed.
"Baily!"
A small grey-green creature with large tennis ball-like eyes and bat-like ears materialized in front of her, nervously ringing its hands.
"Yes, Mistress Potter?"
She wanted to cry. She had even started to give the house-elves a fright!
"Could you please set up some tea and biscuits for me in the library?" she asked, swallowing her tears.
"Baily will do that," the little elf said hastily and vanished with a snap.
Lily pinched the bridge of her nose. She could handle this, she would handle this!
-
-
31st of October 1981
She rubbed furiously against her arm in an effort to keep the dread down. She was warm and safe. It was just a storm, nothing to get excited about... just one of those nights... yet something... something... wasn't right.
Suddenly, a violent thunder clap yanked at her and a rush of fear gripped her heart. There was a blinding flash in the distance. It had struck the river.
There was a wail of plight from above, relentless fear echoing.
'Harry!'
Lily lifted the hem of her robes, hurrying up the steps to the second floor and down the hall to the nursery. She opened the door, lighting a small lamp on the bureau that bathed the room with its soft golden glow.
His wails were so awfully loud. She hoisted him up on her hip, wiping his tearstained cheeks, his wails coming up short.
A second thunder clap sent her baby boy into fresh piercing wails.
She shushed and gently bounced him. His sobs were still there, broken only by the need to breath. Cooing his name and stabilizing his head as she rocked him, she quickly looked around the room.
'Where has it flown off now?'
Her eyes scanned the room and there was a dull flash of green by the wastepaper basket in the corner.
"How did it get over here?" she said softy, "did you throw it all the way over here?"
She scooped down and grabbed the dummy in one hand, unsteadily getting back to her feet.
"Here we go, here we go..." She cooed at him.
She rubbed the dummy against her robes and sucked it twice before giving it to her son. The small boy made loud suckling noises as the dummy bobbed in his mouth. Leaning his head against her shoulder, his tiny fingers circled and intertwined in her hair. She felt a sharp twinge every now and again, wincing when he pulled a little too hard.
She hoisted him in order to get a better balance as she carried him out, closing the door behind her. Halfway down the stairs, she noticed the front door stealthily open, a man's hand holding the frame.
Lily's left eyebrow went up, a hard glint coming to her eyes as she stood stock still, waiting...
A mass of unruly black hair appeared around the frame of the door, black horn-rimmed glasses, too fogged up to see anything at all, missed the angry form on the stairs. The door closed with a rather sharp click.
"Damnit," he swore softly.
There was a gurgled sound somewhere to the right, and above him. He closed his eyes.
"James..?" Lily's voice held a steady accusation.
"Eh," he said nervously, rubbing the fog from his glasses with his robe, "hi Lils..."
Harry's dummy decided to drop from his mouth at just that moment. Lily didn't seem to care, nor did Harry, who apparently thought mommy's hair tasted better.
"What are you doing here, James? I thought we agreed...?"
"Uh, right... yes we did, and I respect that decision, I do. But you see, Padfoot had this girl over..."
'Pa'fooh...'
James heart nearly stopped. A smile started to blossom on his face at Harry's first word, until he saw the look in his Lily's eyes.
"What?" she asked softly, her breath hitching.
James knew that look far too well.
"Pa'fooh!" the child said firmly.
James closed his eyes. 'Oh, now you've gone and done it Harry.'
Lily's eyebrow quivered in its raised position.
"Padfoot?" she asked, sweetly, and then blinked turning her sight back on James as though just remembering he was there,
"So..." she said quietly, almost too quiet for James to hear.
She started to descend the stairs.
"And what... thought you could just slink back here, while..."
James twitched, interrupting her.
"I didn't think you'd be up! And figured I would be gone before you noticed..."
Lily's eyes turned hard.
'Ok, wrong thing to say!'
"You haven't told him have you?" she asked accusingly.
"Told who?" James tried to sound as though he had no idea what she meant.
"Your precious Padfoot, that's who!" she snarled, "You're such a coward, James!"
He hung his head.
"Take Harry, James..."
"Ok!"
James ignored the fact that he sounded like a teenage girl and scrambled up the stairs. Taking Harry gently, he watched his ex-wife stomp off down the stairs, her hands pulled into white knuckled fists.
"Lils, I tried, but he's my best friend! Try and unders..."
Lily turned around like a hailstorm changing course and glared at him.
"Lils, I didn't mean it like that... that is to say... I really think..."
SLAM!
Lily had thrown the door closed behind her. James looked at her son ruefully.
"Well, that really wasn't nice, ey Harry? I'll have to sleep in the shed again!" James said, carrying the little traitorous bundle over by the window. "Do you like it when mommy's mad at Dada?"
James laid careful reference, hoping Harry would try it.
"D.. d.. d... da..."
James eyes shone bright, breath in his throat. Harry coughed.
"Pa'fooh!"
James's eyes narrowed.
'Maybe Lils could use some help...'
There was a violent shudder through the whole house.
"Uhmm... Lils?" James called.
The lights started blinking and mantelpieces where shuddering, there was a charge in the air. The outside flashed deadly green. James became stiff, the child in his arms giggled, clueless.
The door to the dining room flew open as Lily raced inside worry and fear etched in her face. There was another shudder through the house as plaster started loosening in the ceiling.
This was bad.
Lily grabbed her son as James pulled his wand. There was a thundering crack, and the outside lit up by the flash of light.
Lily gasped. James swore.
A tall dark figure stood outside, his blood-red robes billowing in the wind. There was another flash, a menacing smile and movement.
"Lils, it's him!"
James moved towards the door, brandishing his wand. Lily stood stock still watching the nightmare coming. James grabbed her by the arm, shaking her.
"Lily, take Harry and go!"
She shook herself out of it. She starred into James's eyes.
"Go! Run!" he whispered hoarsely, pushing her towards the dining room and the fireplace. "I'll hold him off."
She nodded, her eyes expressing what her voice couldn't, their hands clutching at each other. A quickly stolen kiss and she ran, stumbling from the room in panic.
Both doors burst open simultaneously. There was an insane cackle of high-pitched laughter. Lily skidded to a halt in front of the fire place, throwing the whole pot of floo-powder into the flames. Blood-red: they were trapped.
She covered her baby's ears with her trembling hands as they huddled in the corner. Tears dropped down on her son's tiny pyjama. Harry squirmed uncomfortably in her hands.
'You shouldn't have to hear...'
"Penitus!" a nasal voice cried.
'Oh God!'
"Protego! Concusio!" a firm voice shouted back.
A loud crack followed by an insane cackle.
"That's no way to treat visitors, Potter! Caustica!"
"Blazon!"
There was a gong like the striking of a clock tower.
"Impressive!" the nasal voice called. "I shall have to..."
"Ardere!" James cried, catching the nasal voice mid-speech.
There was a whooshing boom like a fire exploding into vacuum, followed by a shriek of pain.
"I u-underestimated you, P-Potter! It will not HAPPEN AGAIN!"
"Deletrius!"
There was a high-pitched laughter again.
"Crucio!"
A scream of pain.
"James!" Lily's voice echoed.
"You could have been glorious at my side..."
"Go to hell!" James snarled.
"You first," the nasal voice said, dismissively.
Green light, a heavy thump and James's wand rolled into the room.
"NO!"
Lily's and Harry's screams mixed in the air followed by more high-pitched laughter. Tell-tale boots clicked against the hard-wood floor as the Dark Lord approached.
"Now..." he said calmly, sending shivers up Lily's spine, "where's little Harry?"
'NO! Not Harry!'
Lily threw herself in his path, hiding her son from view.
"Please!" she begged, "Not Harry! Please not Harry! I'll do anything..."
The Dark Lord moved forwards having spotted the boy behind her, his robes were shrivelled where James had hit him.
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"
"Step aside," a strangled voice called from the foyer, "step aside you silly girl!"
It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was Harry. She clutched the hem of the dark-red robes when they came within reach, pulling at them.
"Not Harry! Please...have mercy... have mercy!" she begged, hot tears flowing freely as green eyes met glowing red.
"Very well," Voldemort said, with a frightening smile, "I shall grant you... mercy,"
"Oh thank you! Thank you!"
"Lord Voldemort is very merciful..."
The room was suddenly bathed in green light and the lifeless body of Lily Potter fell to the floor with a soft clunk.
"Such weakness..." the Dark Lord spoke as though discussing the weather, "it boggles the mind."
Harry's wails found renewed force.
:s: Blasted child! :s:
A swish of the wand and the boy became instantly still. The tall dark form sighed with relief.
"Ah, much better... I simply can't abide useless noise."
Voldemort swept his wand over the dining table with swoosh and flick, sending the furniture toppling over itself as though a hurricane had grabbed hold of it and thrown it out the window.
"Now, my servant, it is time...." Voldemort motioned with his hand, "I do not wish to stay in this paltry residence any longer than necessary."
A dark hooded man with a silver mask strode forward, his cloak billowing out behind him. He carried a large black-letter carrying bag and set it down by the window, the initials 'R.A.B' stencilled in silver by the clasp. He opened the clasp and withdrew a long slender knife with a bone-white handle and handed it to the Dark Lord's eager fingers.
He continued to pick and remove items from the bag stacking small instruments, candles and incense in neat rows. A golden cage-like sphere was pulled out a long chain dangling from it, incense was placed in the smouldering gelatine substance at its centre and wafts of smoke began to circle around the chain.
"Hand me the Peyton,"
Trembling fingers produced a silvery disk with a gleaming read eye at its centre. The last item removed from the bag was a small sack, a pint of casting salt.
"Excellent crafting, you did well..." the Dark Lord said, his red eyes gleaming.
"Thank you, my lord," an unsteady voice replied.
Voldemort turned sharply.
"Now, now," the Dark Lord said, "no knee scraping. You know I detest that."
"My apologies,"
Voldemort placed a comforting hand on his follower's shrouded head.
"Your mind his troubled, did I not warn you about these lowly insects?"
The Dark Lord moved from him and walked in a circle about the room, at a leisurely pace.
"You must shut your heart to them or they will taint your soul."
The Dark Lord stopped in the centre of the room.
"Put this behind you, dear prince... remember them fondly from those little, meetings of yours."
His follower bristled, almost shuddered.
"Ease your mind... I have faith in you, my prince."
The Dark Lord grew very still, poised like a cobra waiting to strike.
"Now leave me."
The tone left no room for hesitation. The follower nodded and set off towards the front door.
"Oh, and Severus."
The footsteps halted.
"Remember... you were never here."
Severus Snape swallowed hard and stepped outside, but the cool night air did little to slow his pounding heart.
He appeared with a crack back to Spinner's End. Hurried steps took him inside the shabby wreck of his childhood home. Throwing off the silver mask and hood into a nearby couch Severus stooped as he poured himself a double brandy.
He threw the drink back and made the barest of coughs as he swallowed it down. He sank into his favourite armchair with a groan and closed his eyes. Trying to breath steady, he fumbled as he pulled out a vial from within his robes, holding it with a trembling hand. The glowing yellow liquid disturbed him, it was a testament to what he was about to do. He needed to forget, he didn't want to be party to what he had allowed to happen.
He knew the Order would never understand. That Dumbledore wouldn't understand. They hadn't seen what he had seen. They didn't know the sheer volume of recruits that week after week joined the Dark Lord's cause. The war was already lost; the Dark Lord had already won. He just hadn't put the resistance down yet.
Staring at the vial he took a deep breath, uncorked it quickly and downed the vile contents. He threw the vial against the wall, shattering it into a thousand fragments. He could hear his heartbeat echo in his mind, slowing down he felt drunk and weak. His head lulled from side to side until finally, his eyes rolled up in his head and the world turned black.
-
Author's Note
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This is essentially my idea about what happened the night that Harry's parents died.
This one shot was originally supposed to be a prologue for the main story I'm currently working on. However, as these things tend to happen, I realised that this is the way I think of that night regardless of any other story elements. Therefore, I decided I would upload this as a standalone prologue and reference it whenever a character speaks of what happened that night. I feel it works well enough on its own merits to function this way.
I should note here that I disregard the last two books as a general course. To me, the final books of Harry Potter have yet to be written, the so called sixth and seventh books were just fanfiction authors who were given the right to write about Harry Potter and make money of it. Therefore I treat those two books as Fandom, and they are therefore, utterly inconsequential.
Thank you and please review.
Sant