Untitled (to be decided when I see where this story is gonna go)
By: SleepyAngel

Prolouge: Anyone Else


Two figures were hunched over a candle, each holding a cup of tea. The Potter's
spoke in low, low voices, so as not to wake their sleeping child in his room. The woman
was crying softly, and her husband was speaking soothingly to calm her. None of his
words seemed to reach her.

"It...should've been anyone, anyone else," she cried, clenching her cup so tightly
that she felt it would burst. Her husband must have realized this; he took it from her
hands.

"Lily, no one else could have killed Voldemort. No one had as much power as
either Voldemort or Albus. If Albus hadn't done what he did...." the man shuddered, one
of his own tears slipping down his cheek,"Voldemort would still be here, terrorizing and
killing so many more. You have to understand this, Lily. Albus had to!"

"I know, James! Don't you think I've been over it in my mind so many times? I just
don't...I don't..." Lily collapsed into James' arms that were held out for her. The candle
flickered as her heaving breath fell on it. James rubbed her back, trying to calm her to
sleep. He doubted it would happen.

He doubted they would ever sleep the same again.

Lily finally sat back in her own seat, tears still streaking her face, but her face more
resolved, like crying had let her emotions run their course and she could reason now. The
candle on the table was close to flickering out. The witch and wizard stared at the flame as
it sputtered and died. They could've relit it, but it didn't matter at the moment. Their
thoughts didn't need light shone on them. They were dark enough that nothing would
pentrate them.

An urgent hooting came from their closed window. Lily started and James stood
up quickly to open the window. The owl fluttered in, dropped its letter, and left just as
quickly as it'd come. All letters were delivered that quickly now. Their was no risking a
poor owl's life to stand around and wait for some one to kill it.

James unrolled the letter before Lily could get her hands on it. He scanned the
letter quickly, his face paling. Hurriedly, she snatched it from him as he rushed out of the
room to get something.


Dear Lily and James,

Lily, I wish I didn't have to be the one to say this, but your family has been killed
by Death Eaters. They must have wanted revenge for the death of Voldemort. Your
sister's son, amazingly, is alive at the house, but no one else has been able to get to them.
You might want to keep him, or find an adoption center. Either way, he'll need some one
to take care of him.

Love,
Sirius


Lily gasped. Petunia? Dead? Even if the sisters weren't close, they were still family.
She couldn't bare the thought of the Dursley's, her sister's married name, son alone,
orphaned at only a year old....

"Lily?" James stood in front of her, his handsome face grave, his out-of-control
black hair standing more on end then usual. She smoothed a lock with trembling fingers
and said, "I'll get Harry. We have to save Dudley." James nodded and waited with his
broomstick as Lily ran to get their own baby son.

~@~

Navigating with his old Quidditch skills, James safely landed his family in front of
number four Privet Drive. He dismounted the broom, looking away from the terrible
scene. He glanced at Lily, to see she couldn't look away. It was too easy to see which
place her sister had once lived, as all the others were perfectly okay, nothing wrong with
them, the worst part of all it seemed. The house, if it could be called that anymore, was
still smoldering, smoke rising over it slowly, taunting of how they could've come sooner.
A sickly green symbol, one both witch and wizard knew too well, hung above the rubble,
it's light slowly fading, though still clear enough to see the skull and snake. A horrible
burnt smell, one neither wanted to guess was, stung their noses. Both adults had brought
their wands, not wanting to be unprepared if they met a Death Eater, and brought them
out as they landed. James' grip on his wand tightened as he felt anger surge through him at
what the Death Eaters had done to his wife's family.

Lily gaped as she held Harry, imaging the horrible deaths her sister and brother-in-
law must have met. She remembered all the horror stories from other families, how they'd
been torn and hurt when they'd seen the scene of their loved ones' demise. She'd listened,
praying it'd never happen to her, thinking she couldn't have stood it if it ever came to her
friends and family. The realization that it was her this time struck so deep she felt like she
could die. She closed her eyes and gulped. They had to still be inside, dead. James, sensing
her reluctance to go in, went first.

James checked the living room, smoke rising from the furniture and old T.V. set.
No body was in that room. He shuddered, knowing he would find two corpses and moved
on. His steps creaked on the burned floor. The kitchen was almost beyond recognition, no
doubt the place the fire had started. He turned the stove off, burning his hand. It was
scorchingly hot. This must have been done just hours ago.

James took another step and his foot fell through the floor. He cursed under his
breath, not wanting to alert and worry Lily. As he used one hand on his leg and the other
to balance himself on the floor, his hand hit something. He looked under his hand to see a
limp hand outstretched, still warm, though colder than a human's flesh should be. With his
eyes closed tight, he retracted his hand and got out of the hole by pulling his foot out
hurriedly.

"Did...did you find them?" Lily asked once he was outside, gasping. James stared
at her, as if seeing her in a new light. It could've been her, dead, limp, if Voldemort hadn't
been defeated. The evil wizard had wanted his wife for some purpose, one no one knew
except Lily, who refused to tell anyone what it was. If he didn't get her, James had known
that he'd kill her, he'd known by the reckless way Voldemart would dispose of people if
they didn't comply to his wishes. James felt tears sting his eyes as Lily trembled on the
sidewalk, clutching their baby with frightened arms.

James rushed up to Lily and hugged her fiercely. He felt her tears soaking through
his cloak. Harry squirmed between them, his green eyes opening. Mother and Father
watched their child, hoping he wouldn't scream, letting the whole block know they were
there. Harry was silent.

"Was Dudley there?" Lily whispered to James, eyes still locked on Harry. She
didn't want to imagine what would've happened if James and she were the ones killed,
leaving Harry to fight for his own. It was her fault, in a way, that Petunia was dead. If
she'd just given into Voldemort's wishes....

James clenched her shoulder, and those treacherous thoughts fled her mind. What
was she thinking? Voldemort would likely have killed her after his deed was done anyway.
She'd seen him do so many horrible things to others, even his Death Eaters.

"I'm going to get him," she announced when James said nothing of Dudley, and
pushed off her husband's tight hold, pushing Harry into his arms. He would've sheltered
her if he could; she knew that he thought she was delicate and couldn't handle the pain of
her sister's death. Maybe he was right, but Lily couldn't stand to just sit back and watch
her world crash without her at least trying to keep it together.