"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! I'll hold him off — just go!"

He yelled the words instinctively, his eyes flying to his wife's as she pulled their son closer. Their eyes met and for a moment, one breath taking, heart breaking moment, James Potter knew he would not hold his son again, he would not feel Lily's soft hair or hear the laugh that so often took his breath away, not in this life at least. As he turned to face the door, and what could only be his death, it broke James heart to hope that he would not see his family for a long time.

"Go…"

Splinters were hanging from the door frame and great blisters of paint budged from where the door had fallen on the wall. It laid on the floor now, shards of what had been security, what he, James, had thought would protect his family. His family, the two people above all others of whom he should have been able to protect.

He raised his head, his jaw set and eyes blazing. A flicker of hope still dared to rise up inside of James, hope that maybe, just maybe something would happen, someone would come. But no one did, no one came. Defiance shone through James as he faced Voldermort.

"Straight back and proud, the way your father died."

He knew now who the traitor was, Peter, and even though he was seconds away from death, James could not help but feel sympathy for the man, maybe he had been forced, bewitched, cursed. They had been friends. Good friends.

And in that moment his friends faces ran through his mind, Remus, Sirius. And Lily and Harry. And the rest of the Order, Frank, Alice, Hagrid, Marlene, Mary, Gideon and Fabien and all the others, dead and alive.

He could hear Lily upstairs, blocking the door.

Voldermort began to raise his arm, manic laughter filling the house. And James could do nothing but stand; his wand lay untouched and unhelpful in the next room. He would stand though, he would delay it. Whatever it was, he would delay it.

Harry began to cry, the sound filled the house and James wondered what Voldermort was thinking.

All the sound in the house seemed to blur together for James, Voldermort had let out a cackle off high pitched laughter, Harry was still crying, James' own breath seemed unnaturally loud and somewhere there was the curse.

James could still hear Harry crying.


It's for Jily October.

I couldn't bring myself to publish it on Halloween.