Crinkly red, orange, brown and yellow leaves covered the floor of Godric's Hollow—leaving no room for the soft grass and cobbled pavements to be seen—the brightly coloured leaves that escape from the sunset-coloured floods always welcomed in Autumn occasionally floating through the streets as warm breezes swept them up into the comfortable embrace of the picturesque village. Autumn had come swiftly, yet already the clouds in all sorts of grey shades of winter were hovering above Godric's Hollow. However, the moist air and impending rain did little to dampen the enthusiasm of the citizens below. For Godric's Hollow, October 31st, All Hallow's Eve, Halloween, whatever you wish to call it, was a tradition dating back many, many, many years, and awaited almost as eagerly as the annual Yuletide festivities.
Children's innocent giggles and smiles illuminated the much-celebrated night of Halloween, the small figures of kids racing eagerly from house to house in search of more sweets to put into their ever-growing piles of sugar, only adding to the traditionally decorated town's domestic atmosphere. Larger shapes of parents fondly watching their children, reminiscing on the good ol' days, when it was them doing the exact same thing, were idly stood, as much in the present as Marty during the majority of Back to the Future.
Meanwhile, down a quiet street in the very same town, in a household so homely it felt magical, a hazel-eyed man and a fiery-haired woman sat on a soft beige sofa—matching the rest of the room with a perfect aesthetic—her head laying on his shoulder, his arm around her shoulders, and both their kind gazes resting lovingly upon the child that lay in her arms, who was smiling and giggling up at his parents. She was laughing at something he'd said, and he responded with open affection.Smiling fondly at her beautiful child in her arms and the handsome man at her side, she turned her emerald-green eyes toward her pale-skinned son, whispering words so silent they were barely distinguishable, a quiet "I love you, so, so much."
The woman was Lily Potter, the man James Potter, and the child, their child, their pride and joy, was Harry James Potter.
A figure in a black cloak strode purposefully through a quaint village, scaring the many children he came across wouldn't have gone unnoticed on most days. However, on this particular day (October 31st) it did. This was the day that the infernal prophecy would at long last be completed. Voldemort had finally obtained the Potters' location, and he thanked the Fates that the propecy had not yet interfered with his progress overtaking the wizarding world, for he had feared—and rightly so!—that soon his private thoughts may have stagnated the war. Voldemort cringed internally just thinking about this— he loathed weakness, and now he was admitting it freely? Well, you know what they say. War does change a man.He silently cursed himself for losing concentration— if this had happened in the midst of a battle he could have been (albeit temporarily) dead by now. He scowled.
Anyway, back to the task. He knew where he needed to go. Apparating with a sharp crack to the outside of the cottage, Voldemort strode forwards, knocking as was common courtesy.When no one answered, Voldemort sighed and non-verbally shattered the door to smithereens. Inside, the slightly muffled yell of James Potter came piercing the calm air outside in perfect coherency: "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"Voldemort sneered. Fools, the both of them. Marching through the door Voldemort quickly struck down James Potter with an instinctively-cast Avada Kedavra, and as he soon progressed through the living room, up the stairs and into the nursery he saw the shape of Lily Potter protecting and shielding her only son, who was in his cot, with her body. Remembering the promise he'd made to one of his most loyal— Severus Snape— Voldemort resolved to give her three chances. Three. No more, no less just three."No! Take me instead! Not Harry!" Lily Potter cried. He had to commend her on her bravery. She truly was a Gryffindor in all but blood."Step away from the child, girl, and I will let you live."He saw her hesitate, but instantly knew that she had never considered his offer for a second. It was a shame to waste such talent, and spill magical blood, even though this talent manifested itself in a mudblood.Firmly, Lily Potter shook her head, her confidence in her decision evident despite the tears streaming down her face."Step aside!" Voldemort tried again. He had made a promise to one of his most skilled and loyal, that he wouldn't kill the bitch. Scowling, Voldemort accepted that the Mudblood wouldn't move, and he'd have to kill her despite the probably-minuscule forfeit he would receive for not sticking to his word. Bloody Lord rituals."No, please! Please! Take me! Not Harry, not Harry!" Evans' distressed cries brought him out of his casual musings.Now truly irritated, the Dark Lord instinctively cast a 'stupefy' on his prophesied nemesis' mother. Though he regretted not killing her, at least young Severus would be appeased. Now, it was time to end this prophecy once and for all.
The citizens of Godric's Hollow shrieked as a flash of bright green light illuminated one particular house, but as the screams subsided into silent, stunned terror, darkness stole the once-peaceful village of Godric's Hollow, and panic reigned once more.
A/N
Hullo! As you can probably tell by my profile, this is my first proper, long-term story that I'm posting on here. I can't guarantee regular nor long updates but I'll try my best. I'm still working on improving my writing, do critiques are definitely accepted. If you liked it, please review! Any suggestions— I'm open to PMs but I probably won't respond too quickly unless I'm either on here or not doing anything! Hope you enjoyed it! I'm out.