Happy Halloween everyone! Well, it's not going to be so happy once this has dragged up all the feels and bad... stuff surrounding the 31st October 1981, so yeah.
The only thought on James' mind was saving Lily, saving Harry. They had to survive. There was no doubt about that that-he had to save them. No time to think about who had betrayed them.
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Watching her husband die, that was worst than the Cruciatus curse for Lily. Her James-gone. She had to save Harry. She had to protect her son.
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Approaching the baby Tom Riddle smiled for the first time in years. He would be invincible-invulnerable. Once this baby was dead, none would stand in between him and his quest to become the most powerful wizard alive, to become the master of death.
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HarryPotter screamed and cried into the uncaring night. What was happening? He wanted his mum and dad-where were they? Why weren't they coming?
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Hagrid strode through the ruins, searching for any life left. His ears heard the pitiful wail of a baby amidst the deathly silence. Could it be? Could Harry have survived? He saw the corpses of James and Lily, and all joy vanished from his heart. They were dead. The whole wizarding world would be rejoicing, but that didn't matter. James and Lily were dead. Harry Potter was an orphan.
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Sirius Black laughed. There were corpses all around him, James and Lily were dead, yet he laughed. Aurors flooded the street, yet still he laughed. He was captured, and he laughed maniacally. He knew he was going to Azkaban, he knew they thought he was guilty. He knew that he was going to pay for the death of his best friend's, even though he wasn't guilty. Even though he had nothing to do with it.
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Severus Snape paced up and down frantically. What if the dark lord hadn't save Lily? It was all his fault-he never should have joined the death eaters in the first place. Never should have told him the prophecy. Even if Lily didn't die she would never forgive him in the first place. God this was ridiculous. He had no one to blame but himself and his stupid life choices. Why had he ever gotten mixed up with the death eaters and the dark lord.
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Peter Pettigrew ran through the sewers, his hand bleeding from where he had cut his finger off. He had survived. Yet he felt oddly... Empty.
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Remus Lupin looked at the newspaper in front of him. You know who was dead. So were James and Lily. Sirius was in Azkaban for killing... Twelve people and... Peter. Remus felt his heart crumble as he realised the mess he and his friends were in. A mess three of them hadn't survived. But Harry had. Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world, the boy who lived they were already calling him.
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Minerva McGonnagall watched Albus warily. "Are you sure we should leave him with the muggles?" She asked. "I've seen how they treat their son."
"If he stays in the wizarding world all he will hear is how great he is for an act that happened before he can remember. Any wizarding family would be happy to take him in, but that's not the kind of life he needs, nor does he need a bloated head from fame. No Minerva, this is better. Let him learn about this when the time is right."
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Minerva nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. The happy marauders she had known were broken, and this baby and Remus were the only ones who survived. James and Lily were dead. So was Peter. Sirius was in Azkaban and Minerva wondered what the marauder's had done to deserve this tragedy.
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Albus Dumbledore wondered if he was making the right decision. Any wizarding family would be happy to take him in, they would treat him like a prince. But that would result in Harry growing up with a big head... No this was far better. Even if he had his own doubts about it, this was better.
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Lucius Malfoy felt the dark mark fade somewhat on his arm. Voldemort was dead. Gone. But how?
That didn't matter. He could find out in the morning. No, what really mattered was clearing the Malfoy name, protecting himself and his family. Anything else would come second.
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All across Britain witches and wizards celebrated the death of Voldemort, the end of a regime of terror. They threw parties of celebration in joy, not caring if the muggles saw them. Some, former death eaters, planned lies that proclaimed their innocence, and others mourned the deaths that came about because of the defeat.
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The muggles however, found nothing amiss apart from the funny clothes, and the abnormal abundance of owls flying around, especially during the day.
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Petunia stared at the baby, and eventually brought him in, reading the note that was attached to it. She reread it, not believing the words written on it. She dropped the letter, the realisation shocking her. Lily was... Dead. Suddenly their arguments seemed so childish, now that Lily was dead. Petunia wished she could apologise, but she couldn't. Not now when her sister was dead.
