(James Potter)

James sat on the sofa before the front of the lit fireplace in his family's new safe-house in Godric's Hollow. His mind was far away, thinking about the horrors of the war, and the lunatic who wanted to kill his son. Lily was snuggled up beside him reading a large book that Dumbledore had leant her about learning to apparate regardless of existing anti-apparition enchantments. For that was one major flaw of the protections that they had used to ward their safe-house: one could not apparate if they were within its boundaries.

James looked over at his wife. She was focused intently on her research on how to further protect their family. She is so perfect. He reached up and stroked the back of her red hair. It was a few seconds before she looked up at him, now clearly in a spot in the reading where she could take a pause. Her eyes were bright, even in the dim light, and she looked so – so sad. James put on an encouraging smile for her.

"Do you want to head upstairs to bed, Lils?" He asked gently.

"In a bit. I want to finish this chapter first. You don't have to wait up." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. James leaned his head down onto hers.

"I'd rather stay with you, love." He muttered contently. She moved her head to face him, causing him to lift his own in response. She was studying him, a faint familiar smile now emerging on her face.

"James." She said lovingly. "I know you're tired."

"Mm, fine, Lils." He said letting out a large yawn. She gave a small laugh. Oh. I haven't heard that lovely laugh in weeks.

"Let's go up. I can finish the chapter in bed." James smiled at her kindness.

"If you insist." He teased, as he leaned over to place a kiss on the top of her head. He let her make the first move to rise, but she stopped mid-way through.

"James." Lily whispered suddenly. "Did you just hear that?"

He had heard it: the faint pop of someone apparating. There was something wrong. They weren't expecting any visitors that night, and it was near midnight.

Has someone gotten hurt? Is someone here to tell us that someone else has died? Is Sirius okay?

James stood and ran to the window. A tall cloaked hooded figure was standing motionless at the end of the front walk, just outside of the anti-apparation barrier. James recognized that figure; he had seen him thrice times before. He backed away from the window hurriedly, instinctively reaching to his back pocket for his wand, but it wasn't there. Bedroom.

"Lily it's him." James warned, spinning around to see his wife. Lily's emerald eyes held, for a brief moment, a look of stricken shock, and then she turned and ran to the nursery – to Harry. James ran after her. They had planned for this. They had considered the possibility that Voldemort might still find them, even with a Fidelious Charm in place. He trusted Peter, he trusted his friends, but Lily and Dumbledore had been wise enough to create an escape route to an apparition point in the backyard from his son's nursery – just in case Voldemort managed to somehow get it out of their secret keeper.

He didn't have time to let the realization that Peter must surely be dead or tortured somewhere far away from them sink in. Peter, I'm so sorry. My fault… He had to protect Lily and Harry. They meant everything.

The sound of the front door opening reached their ears as they ran. They reached the top of the stairs and James stopped. There isn't enough time, he realized. Lily turned back to look at him immediately when he stopped.

"James" she said breathlessly. There was fear on her face, yes, but there was more than that. She was looking at him lovingly, and James felt a stabbing anguish knowing that this would likely be the last time that they would ever look into each other's eyes again. She wanted him to come with her and Harry. But the man was in the house. He would know they were upstairs any second now.

"Take Harry and run. I'll hold him off." He told her, nodding in his attempt to give her some sense of reassurance that they would – or at least she and Harry would – make it out of this alive. She shook her head 'no', almost imperceptivity. There was a noise downstairs; he'd find them any minute now. James reached out and kissed her. It was short, much shorter than he wanted it to be. Our last kiss. Another noise downstairs.

When it came to the safety of their beloved son, Lily didn't hesitate. She gave him one last look that said it all: I love you more than anything; we can't let him get our son. James turned back around to the staircase as Lily shut herself into the nursery.

James started back down the stairs. I have to give them time to escape. He had not made it all the way down the stairs before the tall dark figure had found him. For a moment they stood, only a few feet apart, staring. James' wand was upstairs in the bedroom. There had been no time to retrieve it. Still, he had to try. He had to buy his wife and son time.

James tried to muster all remaining courage as he stood there defenseless before the mass murderer that had come to kill his family. Struggling to force the lines of what he prayed was a believable grin onto his face, James spoke to the man. He knew it wouldn't work – that Voldemort would not for long believe him – but anything to buy them even a few more seconds. Perhaps I can provoke the evil man into a bit of torture before he kills me. More time. Giving his family more time to escape was all that mattered now.

"It seems that you've found the wrong safe-house." His voice came out in barely a whisper, but at least it was steady. "Looks like it's just you and me."

For a brief moment, Voldemort remained transfixed upon his prey. Then, all at once, that pale face and those cold dark eyes vanished behind a flash of bright green light.