London's Burning, a harry potter fanfic

Disclaimer: I own nothing from JK Rowling's Harry Potter Universe or Michelle Magorian's "Goodnight Mr Tom" plots. Also, I am not a local person of Britain so I am not accustomed to the geography of the UK.

London's Burning

By So Yun

Prologue

The siren rang clear in the night sky, wailing and echoing over the town as the city's lights were shutdown faster than a blink of an eye. As it screeched and wailed the city's residents scrambled, babies and children crying; clutching to their parents and grabbing their favourite toys.

Anything except those precious of your family were left behind, memories, furniture and treasures forgotten; all forgotten in a shuffle between life and death.

People who were riding out their misery in pubs ran to the local tube station with many others, lying on the cold ground, waiting, and waiting. Harsh breaths and loud shuffling as people became afraid, as people waited in silence.

Trains stopping and adding more people to the crowd, screeching brakes as the drivers realized it was not safe to venture their trains out of the hidden, underground tunnels. Safe inside.

They shuffled to their compulsory Andersons underneath the ground, parents' anxious, older siblings' worried, younger ones scared. As the final siren droned, shelter doors closed around the city and the occupants waited in silence.

Perhaps an infant's wild cry would shatter the silence in some cellars only to be drowned out by the rumbling. Everyone was accustomed to the rumbling, the rumbling as fleets of German Heinkel Bomber planes flew over the darkened city.

Though this did not stop them, the city thought to be ultimately hidden by a mere blackout did not even stop the pinpoint accuracy of the parcels that landed upon thousands of homes.

The parcels that burnt and exploded anything it landed on, the parcels that killed those too poor or those not swift enough.

The parcels that made children scream, men frightened and women cry silently, the tears making paths down their pale cheeks. The parcels that could shake the ground and shake it violently at that. Shake it till you felt it in your roots.

These are the parcels that could kill your family in a blink of an eye.

Windows shattered, brick walls collapsed and London became a spectacular fireworks show to the eye of the pilots above. One of the most violent firework shows in the world.

Finally the last of the explosions rocked the city and again, it was deathly silent. They were only leaving to refill and return another night, another night to claim and take what you held dearest.

Now to wait, to wait and find whom closest to you, you had lost.

Lost, forever.

This was war.

Screaming. Screaming. Screaming. All around. Terrified women wailed, wept as crushed children's bodies littered the street covered in debris, their lifeless eyes staring at their mothers, their fathers, their siblings.

The silent echoing of bombs being dropped further away but yet so close, yet so close to ripping away another person's life.

Stoic men stood, limp arms fallen to their sides and unshed water pooling in their eyes, the sight too hard to bear, bringing grown men to tears with just one moment in time.

A giant grey haze swept around them and dust got in their eyes and a piercing ringing noise of the aftermath deafened them.

Blood, ran rivers down the streets and mangled limbs poked out from under structures, evidence of the horrific parallels this war had created.

A vast crater lay on the left side of the street, mourning wails rang high in the air as passer-by's stopped; as the world stopped.

A little boy, raven haired and emerald eyed stood alone, his eyes wide and his small body shaking uncontrollably. People looking on were too stricken in their own grief to notice, and they shuffled him by without a second glance.

His mouth was agape as tiny little whimpers secreted from it, and finally one heart wrenching scream rang clear in the silence, "MUMMY!"

November 1940

James Potter cuddled his son thoughtfully, stroking the child's raven hair as he sang a quiet lullaby. The boy, although slightly too old for this at six years old did not protest except for a sleepy nod and tiny smile.

Harry relished being in his father's arms and he unconsciously snuggled closer to his father's warmth. Not that this moment of love was a rarity, but in these times and age any moment was cherished as sometimes because of the war they were few and far between.

James Potter worked in an Arms factory; he could be with his best friends right now, as a soldier but due to a failed eye sight test he got to stay home. And thank god for that, he'd never miss being with his wife and seeing his son grow up everyday for anything.

His hair was unruly and he wore circular framed glasses which he stared out through hazel eyes. He was fairly tall and strong, as he played football as a lad and now the arms factory demanded a lot of heavy lifting.

He was handsome, and Lily had snagged him back in 1933 and well, let's just say James never felt weak in the knees for anyone; anyone except Lily.

James kissed the top of his baby boy's head; Harry would always be his and Lily's baby boy no matter what. Harry yawned loudly and curled his small, fragile hands around his father's biceps, eyelids shuttering gently beneath his similar glasses.

So he gently removed the offending glasses from his son's small face and folded them by the table.

James smiled at his son, a look of such intense loving directed from his hazel eyes, if only Lily were with them. His wife was on graveyard shift at the local hospital that had daily visitors in hundreds after each nightly blitz.

He remember vividly the night that Lily came over, her prided Nurse's uniform splattered in so much blood that he had shielded Harry's eyes. That had been three whole months ago when the bombing of London had just started.

After he had put Harry to bed he had held onto a distraught Lily as she cried about all the dead children she had had to carry to the morgue and the amount of shrapnel and blood she had to dig out of their bodies.

Lily had not been the same since. She had not been the same since she stopped crying and became numb after every graveyard shift she took at the hospital. She stopped telling James about the horrific things she saw, she stopped thinking about it, and instead she hugged Harry for all it was worth every night before she left.

James looked down; Harry had slipped asleep while he was stuck in his musings. He looked so relaxed and carefree, James smiled.

Their baby boy was small for his age, growing up in between the wars and at the start of a new era and war had taken its toll. No matter how much Lily and James fed him their rations, it was never enough.

Harry was sickly and pale because they could not let him outside much, it was far too dangerous.

He had James's trademark unruly raven hair but he retained his mother's brilliant eyes. Although unlike hers his were vibrant and alive, sparkling in every moment.

Harry was an adorable child, they knew when he grew up he would be a looker and hopefully grow tall like James or perhaps stay short like Lily.

Although his appearance suggested otherwise, Harry was a very happy and healthy child. His parents were his world, and always would be.

James carefully and gently rearranged Harry and lifted him up, pulling him close to his chest and walked down the hall to Harry's nursery.

He placed his small child in the wiry bed; Harry and most children in London were of a small size because rations weren't very large portions and hard to get.

Harry mewed but quietened when James brushed his brow as he tucked the thin sheets and blanket up and around his son's chin. Harry smiled contentedly before rolling over in his sleep, his eyes closed and his muscles relaxed.

James sighed, how he wished that he could be as carefree as Harry were, how he wished he did not have to witness the horrors of war. Unbeknownst to James a tear rolled down his cheek and landed on Harry's duvet.

It would be only so long before something bad could happen. If he lost either Harry or Lily, James did not think he would be able to keep going.

He pulled up a chair and become guard over Harry while his son slept lest there be another alarm. He wanted to be able to grab Harry and have him in his arms if another blitz began.

He also waited for Lily to get home safe and sound. If he did not have Harry with him he would have been too worried about Lily's safety every night that he did not think he would relax.

Harry small breaths and rising chest comforted him in his quiet solace. But that brought up something that James would rather not remember.

The night before whilst they had been having a cold dinner in the dark consisting of cold meat and cheese; Harry happily munching on them while sipping from his little glass of milk, Lily and James sitting in tense silence.

"Daddy, you want to play go fish later?" Harry chirped brightly across the table to his father, his bright emerald orbs wide awake but his hair in disarray. He was chewing heavily on his corned meat as he grinned toothily at his father.

Lily smiled a little but shook her head, disapproving that he was talking with his mouth full.

Harry swallowed hard then smiled; no traces of food and said easily, "Sorry Mum." Lily smiled but dropped it as soon as her son looked away to stare at her hand.

He turned back to his father who smiled at him as he leaned across the table to ruffle his son's hair, "Of course Harry. I wouldn't miss it."

Lily had been watching her son, her face pale and serious before she looked up to James.

James stared back at her then followed her gaze to Harry while she told him to go and play with his little magnetic fishing game James had acquired for him some months back.

Harry happily complied and grinned at his father as he hopped off his chair. James smiled back wearily; if Lily had sent their son away then this was obviously serious.

Lily was a beautiful woman. She maintained a simple yet pretty appearance. She had gotten her hair cut in a short bob that made her red hair vibrant and shining. She maintained it at a minimum and washed it twice a week.

Most of the time though, it was covered by her nurse's cap where she tucked the loose strands in. But the rare moments when she was home it was free and unrestrained, Harry loved running his fingers through it.

Lily was staring at the frayed tablecloth in the darkness, James took her hand tentatively hoping to comfort her but she pulled it away, wiping it on her simple but pretty blouse. She finally looked up, right into James's hazel eyes and opened her mouth, "I think we should send Harry to Hastings."

No matter what James's answer was, it was too late. She'd already written the other week ago and gotten the reply today.

The silence ensued afterwards was not a comfortable one. James didn't know what to say, he could not believe that Lily wanted to break up their family. He stared into her eyes, water pooling in them before she looked down again.

James knew what exactly was at Hasting, or whom to be precise. The fact he wasn't too thrilled to send their son there was an understatement. But he heard his wife out; perhaps it was their only choice…

"James. If Harry stays here the chances of him being killed are high. You know what he's like James, he's sick of being cooped up. I just can't-can't stand the thought of f-finding him i-in the m-morgue or something worse James!"

James clasped his wife's hand, a painful dry sting in the back of his eyes as they both stared up the staircase where they knew their son was playing his game quietly by himself.

Harry loved the little magnetic fishing game very much. James had gotten it awhile back in exchange for a few of their rations. James did not mind just as long as his son was happy.

The game was a miniature size, easy enough to carry around in the little cardboard box it came in. The fish were colourful and the rods easy enough to use, Harry played it with his mother and father whenever they had time for him.

Harry's most beloved toy though, was the stag that his Uncle's Remus and Sirius had sent from Africa where they were stationed as soldiers. The little greyish stag had been hand sewn from scraps of material but it had an adorable effect.

James had laughed when it had arrived and had said it was obviously Remus and Sirius's attempts at meagre sewing. They helped Harry write a thankyou note and posted it down the road.

They never got a reply.

Everyday they were there was a painful reminder of how far people they loved were now.

Harry missed them as much as he did.

The year Harry was born was the year the world famous Brookfield Zoo opened. The year Adolf Hitler became the Fuhrur of Germany. The year a typhoon in Japan killed over three thousand people. The year William Butler Yates and Rudyard Kipling won the Gothenburg Poetry Prize.

It was all in the past, the only way through was to the future.

James closed his eyes, the thought of sending Harry away was a knife in his heart, and he did not know whether he would be able to bear it.

But Lily was right, Harry was not safe in London, he was a mere child and the bombings came regularly and in darkness. He would rather send his son away and let him never see the gore and horror than him to die and never seem him ever again.

James breathed out, an ache ebbing in his chest and let go of his wife's hand, nodding. Her eyes were solemn and wracked with grief and she nodded also, leaning to kiss James's forehead before heading up to say goodnight to their son.

James looked outside, the sky was dark but millions of stars twinkled and winked at him and in the distance he heard rumblings of the city going to sleep.

He looked back down to the floor, his chin falling to his chest, wishing and hoping this was all for the best before plastering a smile on his face as he headed up the stairs.

"Harry, want to play go fish before bedtime?"

Lily cried, not loud wracking sobs but quiet muffled whimpers as the siren rang loud and clear. Harry hugging her legs and James by her side, his ashen hazel eyes darting everywhere as they shuffled towards the Anderson shelter.

Rain ran off the corrugated iron and dull thuds from the distance but yet so close shook the ground. Lily's plants on the roof were now sodden with water and had sunken down to the soil as if they knew what was coming.

Harry had Prongs clutched in one arm and his little box of magnetic fishing in the other. Lily remembered nearly chucking a fit as Harry had run back into the house for them and James had followed as sirens rang above.

The thundering came, the flashes of lightning here and there as dark silhouetted planes darted above. Clouds rolled as smoke drifted up towards to create a giant haze, as an almost deadening silence encompassed the city except for the loudness of the horrific bombs raining down on them.

When James had come back with Harry, Prong and Go Fishing in his arms Lily nearly sobbed in relief before grabbing them both and running to the shelter as debris flew around them and hazes of smoke had them coughing.

They bunkered down under an old bookcase and bed frame, Lily closing her eyes so tightly she could feel it in her bones and clutching Harry so hard he squirmed and James had to release her grasp.

"It's going to be alright." James murmured to them both and Lily hoped to God it were true as Harry cuddled Prong and his father tighter.

The bombs raining down stopped and an eerie silence followed but they would not move. A strange humming swam in their ears and it was as if the world was holding their breath.

They knew it would start again in seconds and of the loss of life afterwards.

Finally after what seemed hours and Harry was asleep against his father's chest and Lily's grip was so tight on James's shoulder that her knuckles were white, the rumbling grew distant.

The pair uncurled from themselves and James picked Harry up and together they made a slightly more comfortable position and a bed out of blankets before falling into an uneasy sleep, their beloved son between them.

The war was making them grow apart. The war was making them distant and would only prove to take them further and further apart.

Lily looked at the worn calendar on her wall; it was a customary gift from her sister Petunia. Lily sighed, today was rations day.

She rubbed a pale hand across her brow, her lips in a grim line. Last night while Harry slept, she and James had written their will; should something happen to either one of them, or both.

She kept in always in her skirt or blouse pocket, these were almost as precious as Harry. Because these letters and will would make sure Harry would be happy and most of all; alive.

She hated these days with a passion, it mean going out of the safety of their house and lining up in the middle of an open street where any German plane could fire at them.

Harry was upstairs reading the worn picture book he loved as skipped down the stairs as his mother called him.

"Harry, its rations day, we must not be last in line. Come on baby, hurry."

"Alright Mummy." He smiled that glorious little smile at her and she felt her heart light up from the gloominess it had been wallowing in since the start of the war.

He heard him rustling about to grab Go fish and Prongs, the rations line was quite boring for a child.

She smiled back. He continued to grin.

Lily helped him with his little jacket and held his hand as they ventured outside. Prongs and Go fish poked out of his pockets and she watched him finger them thoughtfully.

James was at work after having a small breakfast and hugging Harry and kissing Lily on the forehead.

Lily knew that it was dangerous to bring Harry with her, but she would rather have him with her then go home to find their house in ruins and him inside. No. She couldn't even bear the thought.

So she grasped Harry hand and smiled at him as they walked along the cracked pavement, Harry grinning at her again.

"Mummy, I love rations day. It means we get to say hello to the sun again! The sun misses us Mummy don't you think?" He asked her in that tiny little, bright sparkling voice of his as he swung their arms back and forth.

Lily's forehead un-creased and she grinned pointing up to the sky with their hands, "The sun misses us very much Harry. When the clouds cover it up the sun has to say goodbye and when the sun is sinking it is goodnight,"

Harry grinned and waved up into the greying sky as the sun ultimately slipped from sight. Lily pulled Harry close and hugged him; the destruction from the other night was palatable.

They walked quickly for Lily did not want her son to have a too good of a glimpse at their surroundings. Neighbours houses had become rubble and she did not want to know whether they had been inside or not.

Finally they became closer the centre of town near the rations shelter and Lily's heart dropped, the line was already a mile long. So they continued to walk until they reached the end where they stood there in uncomfortable silence.

Many people were milling around quietly talking, children crying in impatience and mothers worrying. Worn and haggard men fiddled with their rations token, their eyes sallow and skin stretched; weary of this war.

"Harry, how would you feel about a little holiday?" Lily broke the silence, worry etched in her pretty face as she looked down to her son. Harry stopped and dropped her hand, his little brow furrowed as he looked up at his mother.

For a moment she thought he'd scream or yell or something worse. But the look disappeared off his face as quickly as it came and a large grin replaced.

"Really?! We can go to the seaside! I've always wanted that, we can go swimming and we can bury Daddy in the sand and we can make sand castles and we can pick shells and-"

"Harry."

Her son stopped, the grin dropping and he looked down, "Sorry Mummy." But looked back up and smiled; it melted her heart. But she continued.

"I meant how about you, just you going on a holiday? Perhaps to the seaside like you want to." She said it with a gentle smile was slowly her heart was breaking on the inside.

Harry retained a confused look on his childish face and he tilted his head and looked up at his Mommy, his pale cheeks slowly turning red. She clenched his hand tightly, anticipating what would happen next.

"NO! That's stupid! I don't want to go on a stupid holiday! You're stupid Mummy, why did you even ask that! I never want to leave you or Daddy, ever!"

The little boy who usually looked like a beautiful cherub angel wrenched his small hands out of her grip and stepped back a few steps, his green eyes ablaze although hidden behind dirty lenses and his pale skin flushed angrily.

Passer-bys and others in the line of rations turned to look at the spectacle, finally something to drag the boredom out of waiting; a little boy chucking a tantrum. The mother looked exasperated and oddly upset and the boy looked like his temper was about to burst.

Some people sighed and shook their heads, it was a hard age at the moment and little boys should not be upsetting their mothers so.

Although the little child had a sweet temperament moments before, smiling at his mother…swinging idly along with her hands in his….but now he did not look so happy after all.

Lily grabbed for Harry hand in a last attempt to calm her son, but he would not have it. He looked at her with watery eyes, accusal and betrayal not the only things swimming in them.

"How could you? How could you even think of sending me away?" His tone dripped with childish sadness that it clenched the heart of many around them.

Ah, so this was not just some childish tantrum. The woman had obviously broached sending her darling child to the countryside like the other hundreds already gone. Ah.

Lily's eyes softened and she felt her own tears welling up, she couldn't do this! She couldn't stand in front of a line of people with her own betrayal ringing clearly in their ears as she stared at her son.

She brought a trembling hand to her lips and the other to reach out to her son. She stepped backwards off the pavement onto the road hoping that Harry would understand and would come to her and smile one of his customary smiles.

He didn't and in her twenty six years of living she had never been so hurt. It stung like an open wound and Harry's rejection was the salt.

"I only want what's best for you Harry-"

She heard the whistling in the air behind her before everyone else and she moved forwards in one movement. She shoved Harry and half the line backwards most of them yelling protest as they fell on their backsides to the cold, damp cement.

She managed to whip out the letter and will from her skirt pocket and into Harry's pocket in that split second.

Then she looked at Harry's hurt eyes and mouthed, "I love you." Before she closed her eyes…

Harry's eyes widened and before his eyes his mother disappeared into nothing as a bomb landed right behind her. Debris covered him and when he looked up again, half the rations line was gone.

He could barely see behind the crack in his glasses, proof of what impact the bomb had made. His mother was gone…

A Jerry flew above, the propellers roaring and their shadows silhouetting the London sky. Somehow making shape through the haze of pollution and stormy clouds.

The silent echoing of bombs being dropped further away but yet so close, yet so close to ripping away another person's life.

Stoic men stood, limp arms fallen to their sides and unshed water pooling in their eyes, the sight too hard to bear, bringing grown men to tears with just one moment in time.

A giant grey haze swept around them and dust got in their eyes and a piercing ringing noise of the aftermath deafened them.

Blood, ran rivers down the streets and mangled limbs poked out from under structures, evidence of the horrific parallels this war had created.

A vast crater lay on the left side of the street, mourning wails rang high in the air as passer-by's stopped; as the world stopped.

His mouth was agape as tiny little whimpers secreted from it, and finally one heart wrenching scream rang clear in the silence, "MUMMY!"

But no one heard his scream because they were too caught up in their own horrible nightmare that had just come true.

The little green eyed boy was lost in the crowd. His mother's finger lying only feet away from him.

He screamed and screamed and screamed.

Until he fell down. And there was no one there to catch him.

To be continued….

Next Chapter: Harry's devastated, someone finds him and he goes back home only to find…..it gone. Enter Dursleys.

Please review!! I need some motivation! Next chapter is pending on the popularity of this first one.

I am hoping I am accurate and rich enough in the history to compel you readers to continue reading and give me much wanted feedback on my new endeavour.

Thankyou : )

Yun

Sources:

Wikipedia

BBC