Avada Kedavra
James Potter loved his wife his friends and his son. Everyone who knew him would easily tell you that.
They would also tell you, that the first time James had seen Harrys eyes, he had told everyone how much they looked like his mothers: The same green, the same shape.
That was not true thought.
The first time James had seen Harrys eyes, he had realized that they had Lilys shape, but when he noticed their color he had felt a shiver of fear race though him.
Lilys eyes were a beautiful emerald green.
Harrys weren't.
They were brighter. The exact same shade as the killing curse, a spell that James wasmore familiar with then he had ever wanted to be.
Every time he looked into the eyes of his son, he heard those two words: Avada Kedavra.
And while he loved his son, dearly and deeply and desperately wished for it to be any other way, he was filled with an uttermost sense of certainty that it was his son, that would be the downfall off Voldemort. He was also sure that he would not be there to see it.
Avada Kedavra his sons' eyes taunted him.
Yes, James thought as he faced Voldemort, hoping desperately for his wife and son to escape.
Avada Kedavra.
