One Fateful Night
by Isabel Godfrey
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter, and all the characters and places in this story belong to JK Rowling. I am not making a profit from this story.
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It was a cool night at the end of October. Outside the door of the small cottage, young children dressed in all manner of whimsical costumes were walking the streets asking their neighbours for candy. The child in the cottage was too young to know why they were doing this, of course. His parents had wanted to take him out this year. Last year had been too soon, he had only been three months old. And this year the Potters were in hiding. Lily and James tried to make life as normal as possible for their little boy, but it was getting more and more difficult as time went on. Harry wasn't normal to begin with, although his parents often wished he was. So, yet again, this Halloween, Lily, James, and Harry had no part in the festivities going on outside. But yet again, this year was different than the last. This year, no one knew that the Potters' cottage even existed. They, and their home, had disappeared off the map.
Lily was cooking dinner in the kitchen, while James was playing with Harry in the living room. The poor cat was traumatized as, yet again, the small child went zooming around the room on his toy broomstick. James laughed when the cat finally decided that she had had enough and ran from the room, probably to hide under someone's bed. "Alright, Harry, that's enough now!" James said to his son through his laughter, "Let's go see how mummy's doing with dinner. It smells like it's almost done!" Harry landed, for the first time since he received the gift for his birthday, he landed properly without crashing into something. He squealed happily as his father picked him up and gave him a kiss, and they went together into the kitchen.
As they came through the doorway, James said, "Hello, love!" He looked at his son expectantly. When Harry just looked at him blankly, he said, "Harry, say hello to mummy!"
Now Harry looked at his mother and said, "Mama!" He held out his arms for her to take him.
Because Lily was cooking, she said, "Mummy can't hold you right now, Harry, but when I'm done I will, okay, I promise."
Harry seemed satisfied with that and allowed his father to take him over to the kitchen table, where they sat down on one of the chairs. "So," James began, "Is dinner almost ready?"
Lily left the stove momentarily and swooped down behind him to kiss him. "Men!" she said, "I suppose I should feel lucky that Sirius isn't here! But, yes, James, dinner is just about ready. So get your son in his chair and set the table for me, please?"
James got up and situated Harry in his high chair and began to set the table.
The Potters enjoyed a pleasant meal that night. Lily and James were a little wistful, thinking of all the things that Harry was going to miss out on if they had to stay in hiding. "I hope the danger passes soon," Lily said sadly, "It breaks my heart to think that Harry won't get to grow up like the rest of his peers."
James rested his hand on his wife's. "I hope so, too, Lily. But this really is for the best. Sirius and Peter have this all worked out. We'll be fine."
Lily smiled, "You're right," she said, "and there's nothing we can do about it right now. I just wish..."
"I know."
At this time, Harry decided to make his presence known again. "Mama!" he cried. Lily jumped out of her seat and scooped Harry out of his high chair.
"Shall we go and sit in the living room for a while? Mummy can read you a story if you want."
"Story!" Harry said. "Mama story!"
"Do you want a story about Mummy?" Lily asked.
"Yeah! Mama story!"
Lily laughed and said, "Alright munchkin! Here goes... When mummy was a little girl, many years ago, she went to school. And one day at school, a mean boy was teasing mummy and saying mean things about her and her friend. So mummy started planning to get back at the boy for saying those things about her..."
James, for the entire time that Lily was telling the story looked mortified, and at this point in her story, he couldn't help but interrupt, saying, "Lily, do you have to tell him that story?"
Harry giggled as Lily replied, "Fine, then. Let's see what you can come up with!"
"Alright, but I didn't really know you that well until seventh year, so Harry, how would it be if I told you a story about Daddy instead?"
"Mama story?" Harry asked, pouting.
"Well, the story that I'm thinking of is about all of us. Mummy, Daddy, and your uncles Moony, Padfoot, and Wormtail. How does that sound?"
"Yay! Daddy tell!"
"Alright." James said, "Well, when Daddy was old enough, he started going to a special school. He was very nervous when he arrived, but then this really nice boy introduced himself to Daddy. Do you know who that is?"
Harry bounced up and down in Lily's lap. "Moony!" he said.
"That's right, Harry, how did you know? Have I told you this before?"
Harry shook his head. "No!" he said.
"You think?" James said, "I think I have." And he pulled Harry off of Lily's lap onto his and began tickling him.
Lily watched them for a minute or two and then looked at her watch. "James," she said, " We had a late dinner tonight. It's almost nine o'clock."
"Whoops!" James exclaimed, "Well, Harry, no more of this, I don't think. We'll finish the story tomorrow, okay? It's time for bed."
Harry pouted some more. "No story?" He asked
"We can't finish it tonight because it's past your bedtime." Lily replied. "Come on, let's go to bed."
Harry didn't protest, because as much as he tried to deny it, he was a bit sleepy. He allowed his mother to pick him up and take him upstairs to his room. James followed to say good night to his son properly.
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After putting their son to bed, Lily and James went back downstairs to spend some time together before they headed off to bed. They sat down on the sofa together the way they used to before Harry was born and just sat there for a while, enjoying each other's company. The cat finally came back into the room and jumped up onto the sofa with them. Lily lazily reached out a hand to pet her. "I miss how our life used to be, James." she said. He said nothing, but nodded his head against hers. "I really don't wish it was different, though. I love you and Harry more than anything in the world."
There was a moment of silence between them again. Harry was quiet; he was probably asleep. Then they leaned into each other and kissed.
Suddenly there was an unexpected creak from the front door. James broke the kiss and looked up to see who it was. He gasped when he saw who had just come into their house. "Lily, it's him!" He whispered urgently, "Take Harry and go, I'll hold him off."
"It's... but how?" Lily asked, not daring to believe it.
"Just go, Lily! Anywhere but here!" James gave her a quick kiss, drew his wand, and started heading out into the hallway.
"James, wait!" Lily cried. James turned back. "Be careful," she said, "I love you."
"I love you too, Lily, now go before it's too late!"
Lily fled toward the kitchen, hid behind a cupboard, and watched as her husband bravely faced the Dark Lord. Once he looked back at her and mouthed, "Go!"
She ran up the stairs to her son's bedroom. As she was racing up the stairs, she heard the voice of Lord Voldemort utter a final curse, heard her husband's lifeless body hit the floor. In tears, she rushed to her son's room. When she arrived, he was standing up in his crib, facing the door, his eyes wide with fear. But it was too late for them to make an escape, Lily knew. So bravely, she drew her wand and faced the door, shielding her son with her own body.
He entered the room, but surprisingly, did not kill her on sight. "Stand aside, girl!" he said, instead. "You needn't die with him. Stand aside!"
"No!" Lily cried desperately, "Please, take me instead!"
"Stand aside, you stupid girl!"
"No!" Lily repeated.
"Very well," Lord Voldemort replied, "If that's what you want. Avada Kedavra!"
Lily's last thought as the green light raced toward her was of how much she cared for her son.
--
About an hour later, a small child was found in the rubble of a cottage in Godric's Hollow. The man who found him picked him up carefully. Noticing the laceration on the boy's forehead, he tended it as best he could, then took the boy reluctantly to a larger, bearded man, who was waiting by a motorcycle to take him away. After watching the bearded man take off with the child into the distance, he disapparated. He was not to see his godson for another twelve years.