JAMES
31st October 1981
The night was clear, and the children scurrying from door to door in pursuit of treats were all in costumes. The date was October the 31st, 1981. Hallow's Eve. Or, as the locals knew it, Halloween.
A light dusting of snow covered the ground. It was the first of the year, abnormally early, but nobody thought odd of it.
The exception of that was a small family of three in a little cottage near the church. Many children avoided the house, because they were told that the occupants of it were 'weird'. Of course, if any of them saw the owner's of the house just in the streets, they wouldn't have thought anything strange of them.
That family was odd, but nothing compared to others.
A sweeping gaze of the area was made by a tall figure in a dark cloak. He had such of an intimidating aura that nobody dared to make eye contact with him. One look from his cold, expressionless eyes was enough to send them running away.
One brave child approached the cloaked figure.
"Excuse me, sir? You have a great costume." The cold fingers of the man twitched beneath his cloak, and the child seemed to sense that there was something wrong, as he scurried off. It would have been so easy to end his life right then, but it would have been worthless.
He smoothly glided to the front door of the small cottage and smiled at the scene in the window. This would be easy. Too easy.
A young man with black hair and glasses was sitting on the floor producing smoke rings with his wand while his redhead wife with green eyes laughed. In the middle of the two sat a boy in stripy blue pyjamas, no older than two years old.
He was almost the exact replica of his father - that was something the dark one could see from where he was standing.
The child was laughing and clapping his cherubic hands at his father. The whole scene was a happy one, but underlying all of this was the makings of something much darker and bigger.
A knock on the door would do for the mysterious figure. After all, it was only polite. Out of the corner of his red eye he could see the man toss his wand down and spring up to answer the door.
The man fingered his wand, running his fingers along the creases and texture of the wood. This would be simple.
The old wooden door swung open inwards, and the light framed the figure in black.
The second man didn't even have his wand. His expression of fear and surprise could have been almost comical, if it hadn't been for the seriousness of the situation.
The taller man of the two grasped the end of his wand and lazily pointed it at the messy hair covering the other's head.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" the man in the house yelled. The terror on his face was more than the older man had ever seen. The cloaked on chuckled darkly at his words. Silly boy – he didn't even have his wand.
Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it directly between the two hazel eyes of the man.
"Avadra Kedavra!" he called, almost in a bored manner.
It was all over for the dark haired man.
There was a flash of green light, and then everything went black.
James Potter died protecting the ones he loved.