The sun set on Godric's Hollow as it did on any other day. Except this was Halloween, the night in which ghosts and ghouls haunted the imagination of the young trick-or-treaters who now scurried back home to their parents. And it was safest, to be sure. For tonight, the stories that had been around for a good year were most feared. No, these were not the tales that were told 'round the campfire at the Cub Scout meetings, or the old wives tales that mothers told their children so they wouldn't get out of bed. No, this was for real.
The Potter family had moved into the neighborhood at just about the time these stories had uprooted themselves and took flight, sending a desperate warning to Godric's Hollow's citizens. Many people tried avoiding the Potters; rumors said they were strange people, not quite normal. Now, the son and the wife were fairly normal. But the father, he was different.
Many people had said he talked funny, about something called Kwidditch, or what not. He also seemed a bit too flighty, causing a few neighbors to think he might have been an ex-criminal, driven insane by prison life and, with the way he constantly looked around, many thought he believed the police were still looking for him. The poor bloke, as many people seemed to say, had a terrible habit of stopping in the middle of the street when a car was coming. One man, who claimed to have helped Mr. Potter out of the road, had said "The man's eyes had grown very wide in nature, reminding me of a deer caught in the headlights of a car."
Thus, the tales began. Many parents warned the children to stay clear of the Potter house, no matter how inviting and normal it seemed. But, children will only be that way once, and many of them would ignore their parents on nights like this and visit the Potters. None of them really knew anything about the life they lived. Lily seemed to always have a tray of fresh cookies waiting, James could give you one of the most accurate sports commentaries in all of Britain, and the baby Harry, well, he was cute. He had an adorable patch of brown fuzz on his head, which would soon be hair, and his big, round, green eyes stared at you like an owl watching a mouse.
The sun finally hid itself behind the horizon, giving off a faint glow as a promise that tomorrow it would return. But, the night only brought with it worries in residence of the Potters. The large, white house with the matching picket fence and neatly trimmed lawn seemed as safe of a haven as possible, it was also the most watched house in all of Britain. Every Wizarding bigwig and member of the Order of the Phoenix was protecting this house for all they were worth. For inside this perfectly normal house, was possibly the most extraordinary boy wizarding kind had ever, and will ever know.
Lily Potter stood in the doorway of the place she called home and shook her head, bouncing her infant son, which lay nearly sleeping in her arms. "Where is he?" she asked no one in particular and walked back inside, setting baby Harry on the window seat where he could suck on his fist without having the worries of his mother passed to his tiny mind.
She began to pace the foyer nervously. James knew the rule; be home before sundown. She had made it VERY clear that he be on time tonight and look what happened. He was late, again! Lily buried her head in her hands as she took a seat on the edge of wooden stair rail. She lifted her head in time to hear the doorbell ring.
" Dada!" Harry giggled reaching up towards his mother, who quickly headed towards then door. "Dada home!"
Lily laughed softly at her son's comments, as she opened the door no more than a crack. "Hello? Who's there?" She expected to see a bunch of trick-or-treaters looking up at her expectantly with their brightly coloured masks. Instead a stag was standing on her porch. Letting out a breath of air, which she was holding, Lily could have sworn she felt a drop of sweat glide halfway down her forehead. "James…"
The stag let out a soft, well, laugh and after a couple minutes James Potter stood on the doorstep, holding a bunch of roses. "Yes, Lils?"
"What would you name Harry if he was a girl?"
"Why are we doing this question thingy again?"
"Because I need to know if you're a Death Eater in disguise or not!"
"Oh all right! I'd call him Celeste. Partially because it's a nice name and partially because when he as born, I was in the mood for pizza." James sighed, looking back at his wife and rolling his eyes. "There, satisfied?"
Lily laughed and opened the door for her husband. "You're late again, dear. You know you can't do that."
"Dada!" Harry giggled, reaching up towards his father, his red jumper making him look like an oversized Quaffle. "Dada home!"
James pick up his miniature clone of a son and hugged him tightly. "How has the little Pronglett been? Have you been a good little tyke?" Harry gurgled in happiness and began to try and smooth out his father's hair, not aware of who was standing right at the edge of village…