Author's Note: Remember when, in the beginning of 'Philosopher's Stone,' Hagrid brings Harry to McGonagall and Dumbledore, mentioning that he had to get Harry from a house that was almost completely destroyed. Yeah, well, that's provided some incredible inspiration I never expected to get from that line. This, in short, is about the night Voldemort attempted to murder the famous Harry Potter. The story of the night his power broke because of an attempt to eliminate an extraordinary boy. Alright, this should be interesting, to say the least. winks at readers I'm sure you'll enjoy it...

Yes, yes, it's another one-shot... but I promise it'll be good. I'm searching for another good topic to write about; a story, I mean. So, if any of you would be so generous with your time, could you please give me an idea on what I should write about? I would like a romance, but not something that EVERYONE writes about... Thank you! ;)

Please review. Cheers!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, blah, blah, blah...

The leaves about them barely stirred as three cloaked figures crept silently towards the small, pleasantly peaceful cottage ahead of them. The man in the lead, if he could be worthy of the name 'man,' was tall and slender, his piercing red eyes staring straight ahead behind the gold coloured mask covering his gaunt, pale face.

The other two, who followed, were a couple of men who had obeyed his every command- one, willfully, the other, out of cowardice and a desire to keep his miserable life. The former went by the name Malfoy- Lucius Malfoy- and the latter, Pettigrew. He had not wanted to come, but his master had insisted, telling him he'd be offended if he did not accept this 'honour,' and he did NOT want to offend his master.

They approached the cottage noiselessly. It seemed as if the earth had taken a breath and held it, waiting for the horrible act that it hoped in desperation would not ensue. Like the uneasy, total silence before the dawn breaks on a morning of war, the moment before two armies race towards each other and clash in seemingly endless battles.

Breaking in would've been difficult for most wizards or witches, but in this case, it seemed no less than casting a small child aside from your path towards a goal. Speaking of small children, he believed he would find one in this house... but that was to come later, after he had dealt with the older, more experienced people dwelling here.

Yes, James and Lily Potter... How he loathed them... They'd foiled many of his plans, many of the murders he intended to be spectacularly sickening... Of course, no one could expect less from the two most intelligent, incredibly powerful aurors... Even the strongest Dark wizard in history had to admit that they were astounding. To him, though, it only meant they were a problem to be removed before he could continue with his other, more important conquests...

He approached the master bedroom with ultimate caution, opening the door as noiselessly as possible. Not even the Dark Lord would've anticipated what happened next.

White hot sparks shot straight at him, missing his right ear by less than a hair, and he turned to face none other than James Potter, head auror, himself. As James screamed to his wife to wake up, he dueled with Voldemort, blocking and sending spells with incredible speed and accuracy. Lily woke within moments, being a very light sleeper, and through some miracle got past Lucius and a stuttering, scared... Peter Pettigrew? She almost stopped, thinking this incredibly strange, then remembered her purpose and kept running toward to the room where her young child lay sleeping.

Voldemort yelled at Lucius to block Lily, to prevent her escape, but commanded for her not to be killed. Lily, meanwhile, was NOT attempting to escape, but holding her son in her arms and murmuring a strange phrase many times over in quick succession. There seemed to be a strange white light surrounding both her and the child, so that Lucius and Peter could not get to her. She focused all of her mind and the words she was repeating.

James struggled to fight against the wizard opposite him, his strength beginning to fail under the never ending stream of curses being constantly thrown at him by his adversary. He had been trained extremely well, yes, but never had he been put against a wizard of such incredible, astounding power. He failed to block one of the curses aimed at him, being knocked off his feet and into the wall behind him, and the next thing he saw was a bright green light filling the room, and Voldemort's chill-inducing voice yelling the deadly words, "Avada Kedavra!"

Time seemed to slow for that one split second before the icy hand of death overcame him, and his last thought before he was taken away was, "Harry... How I loved him... Save his soul..." Death then blinded him, leaving his lifeless body on the floor.

In the next room, Lily's spell had become complete, and she broke down into terrible, heart wrenching sobs. The fact that her spell had finally been completed had let her know of her husband's departure- it was the last piece needed for her charm to have worked. She held her dear Harry close, her heart feeling as if a half had been ripped out entirely, taken by the man she'd loved for what seemed like eternity. Speaking of eternity...

The room was once again filled with green light, and the last of Lily Potter's tears fell on the forehead of her dear, beloved child as she departed from the world to meet with her husband...

Voldemort now approached the lifeless form, rolling her off of the body of her only son. The child pushed himself up cautiously, then sat up and stared at Voldemort. There was not a trace of fear or curiosity in his eyes as the man removed his mask to reveal his snakelike face. He now faced the most terrible, the most powerful Dark wizard to have ever walked the earth without flinching.

Voldemort laughed his high pitched laugh, perfectly prepared to eliminate the possibly powerful future wizard from the face of the earth... or so he thought...

As he screamed the deadly curse, he laughed mirthlessly, cruelly, closing his eyes and leaning his head back toward the ceiling. When he looked down, expecting to see a lifeless child form, he was shocked to see the child staring at him as ever before. With wide eyes, he told himself he had probably just missed, and raised his wand to aim. He yelled the curse again, this time watching to make sure it hit its target.

To his great surprise and incredible shock, the spell hit him, but made no apparent change in him. He seemed to be absorbing the curse...

Suddenly, a bright white light burst out from Harry's chest, surrounding him for a split second before expanding rapidly over the whole cottage. It knocked the three cloaked figures straight through the outside walls of the cottage, leaving them fallen in the snow. The house was completely destroyed; the walls seemed to have shattered into thousands of pieces. As Voldemort attempted to stand, he felt something in his chest seem to break, as if there had been a filled crystal phial containing his power which someone had just carelessly dropped and broken. He fell to his knees from the pain, clutching his chest, eyes wide, gasping for air.

Lucius ran to his aid, apparating as far from the scene as he thought possible with his now almost dead master, while Peter transformed and ran as far as his little rat legs could take him.

Back in the middle of where the cottage had been, the child lay, motionless, knocked out by the force of the spell he had unconsciously released. Upon his forehead, where his mother's last tear had fallen was forming a scar that would forever mark him as The Boy Who Lived...