Prologue: To Begin with an Ending

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Harry Potter or anything related, all rights to the wonderful mind of J.K Rowling

It had all been planned out so perfectly, they would dress Harry up in his little pumpkin costume that his grandmother had stitched so beautifully, and they would run around the house, uncovering all the hidden treats that they had both secreted so carefully around the neat thatched – roof cottage. But now, all that perfection had been shattered, like the shards of a mirror falling down around their ears.

And yet despite the icy cold breath that was without from Death's own mouth whispering across his neck, James Potter felt curiously unafraid. He knew what his fate was now, for he had no wand in his hand. Throughout his life, his wand had always been the first thing his hand flew towards, but not tonight. Tonight it had been Harry, his son, he had been the first thing that his arms leapt to; and he did not regret it.

Then James found himself doing something, that under any other circumstances he would have simply laughed at, he began to pray. James had never really believed in any divine intervention, at least he didn't think so; but any possible trace of it had been lost when he had been thrown into the fray of war. As he stood by and watched so many of his friends, good people, die, he knew that there was nothing else. But now he prayed; not for his life, as he knew that was a die already cast; but for his family. He prayed that at the very least, Lily and Harry had been able to get away – if so, he could leave his mortal body in peace.

His silent plea was interrupted by the deafening crash of the door flying from its hinges, splinters flying across the hallway. There he was, on their threshold, the dark monster that had the nerve to call himself 'Lord'. Voldemort's ghoulish face crumpled into an unholy grin.

"James Potter," his voice was a soft hiss, quiet but menacing. "You know why I am here. Hand over the boy." James felt his rage boil up inside him until he could barely contain it; he could not believe that this monster simply expected to hand over his own son to his death. His hands and voice shook as he prepared for one final defiance.

"You'll never have my son, or hurt my wife."

James saw the emerald spark of light advance towards him, he closed his eyes, wanting his family to be the last earthly thing he saw. The light connected with his chest and he fell to the floor in a mangled heap.

The thud echoed around the house, meeting Lily's anguished ears and a cry escaped her lips, tearing through her throat. She held Harry tighter to her, feeling his tiny heart beat next to her thudding like a kettle drum.

Every time before when she had been faced by death, Lily had always managed to fix her mind onto rational rails; thinking of her best way out. But upon hearing James' body hit the floor, his life leaving him on the other side of the house, all reason had left with it.

Carefully, she placed Harry into his cot and knelt down in front of it, staring at his confused expression through the wooden bars.

"Harry, you are going to need to be so brave, so strong," Lily choked letting a tear roll down her cheek without wiping it away. "I'm not going to be able to be there for you, and I am so, so sorry. But I promise when the time comes I will see you again." Hearing the approaching footsteps, Lily spun around, her determination driving away her fear.

The door was flung open, what little light there was illuminating the Dark Lord, draped in his midnight robes, his scarlet eyes regarding the terrified mother and son with air of sick pleasure.

"You know what I have come for, now step aside." Lily shook her head firmly, saw Voldemort's lips move to form the words that would sever the strand of her fate. One thought filling her mind as the curse connected with her chest.

"James…" She breathed as she dropped to the floor just as James had done. Lily felt herself sailing through a tunnel of light, getting brighter and brighter by the minute when at last the spinning sensation stopped and she was left lying flat on her back, looking up at a misty sky. Little did she know that as she had fallen, Voldemort had stepped over her body and cast the spell that had brought his reign of terror to its abrupt end and set Harry Potter upon a pedestal as 'The Boy Who Lived'.

This is the part of Lily and James' story that we all know so well and yet it is the end, now it is time to tell their story – this time from the beginning….