AN. Hey all, this is my first HP fic. Hope you like it. Rated T for now, will probably go to M later.

Obviously, I don't own Harry Potter or anything related to it. Sad.

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Harry lay on his bed, watching the dragon and phoenix chase each other around his room. Uncle Frank had given him a set of enchanted toys for his last birthday, all of them miniature magical creatures that could run around and interact with each other. Or in this case fly. These two were his favourite. Obviously. What four-year old doesn't love dragons and fire birds? Duh.

He rubbed his stomach absentmindedly, his eyes drawn from the dragon which had victoriously pinned the phoenix against the floor up towards the ceiling above him, where hundreds of tiny little lights twinkled. His mother, a master of charms, had changed it for him after he came back from camping with his dad last summer and raved about all the stars he'd seen that night.

Today had been a good day for Harry. Halloween was fun.

It started off with pumpkin carving. Or rather, pumpkin gutting and then pumpkin carving. James had wanted to do it all by magic, but Lily insisted that the only way to properly carve a pumpkin was to get elbow deep in all the goo and make a right mess of it. So that's what they did.

When the pumpkins were finally gutted, Lily put all the insides into a big bowl and then placed it in front of Charlie.

Charlie. Harry's younger brother. His best mate (even though he was only 1 and a bit).

Charlie looked like Christmas had come early. He stuck his two fists into the bowl of orange goo and started to giggle. He picked up a couple of handfuls of the stuff and gave them a squeeze until his hands were stained with pumpkin juice. He gave one finger an experimental lick and grinned in delight at the familiar taste.

Harry started to giggle at his brother. He knew where this was going.

Sure enough, Charlie swiped another chunk of stringy guts from the bowl in front of him before plonking it straight on top of his head.

Harry started giggling louder. Charlie started giggling. James fell out of his seat he was laughing so hard. Harry turned to his mum only to see her with tears of mirth streaming down her face. She quickly reached behind her and grabbed a wizarding camera off the counter. A flash later and the memory was saved.

A while later and they had all calmed down a bit. Harry carved his pumpkin into a big scary face. At least he thought so. He may have heard his mum say it was adorable. Surely not.

After that Harry got to help his mum make toffee apples for the evening. Lily had a serious fight on her hands to ensure that there would be enough toffee in the first place. There was more than one yelp from James after he was hit with a stinging hex while trying to sneak spoonfuls of the sugary goodness. Harry was grateful for his dad's interruptions. Every time James got caught, Harry sneaked his own spoon into the pot.

To round off a great afternoon, they had Harry's favourite dinner. Baked ham, mashed potatoes and peas. Awesome.

Harry twisted on to his side to look out the window. Dad said they couldn't go out trick or treating because it was too dangerous, but he wouldn't say why. Instead, Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus would be coming over soon. Then they could finally have those toffee apples. Harry almost started salivating at the thought.

He was just drifting off for a quick nap, when a loud siren started wailing. He shot up out of bed and threw his hands over his ears, desperately trying to block out the terrifying noise. His heart beat was jagged and painful and his breath was getting shorter and shorter.

He could just about hear his dad downstairs, even over all the screeching. "LILY! THE WARDS ARE FALLING! HE'S HERE!" James screamed.

"JAMES!" Lily cried back. She must have come back upstairs, Harry realised numbly. He was cowering in the corner. Something bad was happening. "WE NEED TO GET OUT!"

Just then, the wailing cut out. Deathly silence.

"Lily, get the kids and-" James called, before he was cut off by a loud boom that shook the house.

The front door was blasted open and James went with it as he flew across the hallway and smashed into the wall. He groaned and slowly rose to his feet, hissing as he did so. Broken ribs. Concussion.

Shit.

He forced himself to shout once more, grimacing through the pain. "Lily! Get the kids! Get out! I'll hold him off!" He gathered himself. Gathered his Gryffindor courage, all his skills as an auror, his knowledge as a Potter, his love for his family. "I love you!"

He summoned his Patronus. His faithful stag. "Go to Padfoot. Voldemort has attacked. Look after my family, Sirius."

He tried a brief healing charm on his ribs. It helped a bit. Not enough.

A cloak swished in the gaping cavern where the doorway used to be. From the swirling dust and black night stepped his greatest foe. The man come to kill his family. Not if James Potter could help it.

"Potter," Voldemort sneered. "Would you rather I kill you before or after the rest of your family is dead?" James stood his ground. He needed to buy Lily time. Even if it meant listening to this drivel. "Or maybe," the Dark Lord hissed, stepping further into the entranceway, "You would prefer to see your wife taken by another. She has been promised to a loyal servant."

James bristled. Snivellus. That fucking evil bastard.

"Three times we have met now," Voldemort continued, gliding further into the ruined entranceway, "And each time you have survived. Mere luck on your part, I assure you." He gazed around the hideout impassively. "You will not survive this meeting. That too, I assure you."

James stood firm. He had accepted his fate. He had only one duty left.

The eldest living Potter issued his warning, knowing it would do nothing but delay the monster in front of him. "Leave now, Voldemort. Should you bring harm to my family this night, you will not see tomorrow's sunrise. I promise you that."

"You dare speak my name? You filthy blood traitor!" Voldemort hissed in rage. "Crucio!"

James resisted the urge to scream for as long as he could, his body on fire. It felt like someone had ripped the skin off his body and then thrown him into hot oil. He could only last so long under the power of the utter hatred emanating from the murderer before him.

He screamed until he tasted blood in his mouth. At last it stopped.

He was curled up on the floor at the bottom of the staircase. His muscles were spasming, tears dripping down his face from the sheer pain.

His time was coming fast. He knew it. And the little voice in his head knew it too. A little voice which sounded suspiciously like his dead grandmother, Dorea Black.

Get up James. You are a Potter. You are a Black. You have bought Lily enough time. Get up and die on your feet.

He unfolded his limbs and slowly started pushing himself up, using the wall for leverage. The pain faded to the background. Voldemort watched indifferently.

Quick as a flash, James fired off a series of curses, shrugging off his agony and determined to cause some damage before he bowed out.

The Dark Lord caught them all on a shield. All except one. A Potter family magic special. It slipped through his guard and caught him on the shoulder. Upon impact, the flesh underneath began to boil instantly.

Voldemort screamed in pain and fury and sent a black bolt of light back at James which caught him in the chest. It threw him backwards against the staircase and he heard another few ribs crack. That was the least of his worries. He'd been hit with a lung rotting curse. He had only minutes left.

James fumbled for his wand, breaths bringing stabs of pain with each intake of air. He looked up and saw his wand lying two steps down. At the same moment, he noticed a malevolent green streak of light heading towards him.

Time was up.

Lily, forgive me.

Lily was in Charlie's room, tears streaming down her face even as she quickly chanted the last few words of the final phase of the ritual they had begun weeks earlier. Before her, Harry sat holding his brother. The two were at the centre of the runic circle she had drawn a month ago and just minutes previously, activated for the last time.

The wailing signalling the attack on their wards had sparked a nearly all-consuming panic in her. She had run from Charlie's room to the landing at the top of the stairs, desperate to get to her husband.

"JAMES! WE NEED TO GET OUT!"

The sudden silence scared her more than she could even fathom.

"Lily, get the kids and-" her husband started, only to be halted as he was thrown bodily thrown across the room from an explosion that crippled the front of the house.

The blast caused Lily to stumble backwards into the wall behind her. Her thoughts focused, even as her mind warred with itself.

Get the kids.

She bolted into Harry's room. He was curled into a ball in the corner, small frame shaking and hands clamped over his ears. She didn't say a word, simply scooped him up and ran back across the hall into her youngest son's room. She tried to block out the voice she heard from below, taunting James.

Throwing her strongest locking charms on the door, she turned and placed Harry down on the floor. Going over to the crib, she grabbed Charlie, who was now crying, and hurried back to her eldest.

With Harry holding her hand and Charlie in her arms she attempted to apparate.

Nothing happened.

She tried her emergency portkey that she had hanging from a necklace. Again, nothing.

It wasn't unexpected. It had been standard Death Eater practise for years now to throw up anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards around any house they attacked. If you wanted to live, you had to fight your way out. Nevertheless, Lily's heartrate went up another few notches and her fear spiked again

She turned to her oldest boy, a mini James. But with her eyes. She held back a sob.

"Ok Harry, you remember that game we play where you hold Charlie and Mummy does magic? We need to play that now, ok honey?" she said as she led him over to the middle of the faint circle in the floor. He sat down, legs crossed, clearly terrified. Her heart broke for her child, but she ruthlessly shoved the feelings away. She needed to do this.

Handing the 15-month old to his brother, Lily stepped out of the circle and waved her wand, activating the runes she had painstakingly into the wooden floor.

She began the third and final step of the ritual. Three – a sacred magical number.

A scream of primal fury from downstairs, another blast of spellfire and then silence. She felt something within her break and finally allowed her mask to fall and her composure to slip.

James was gone.

Tears came thick and fast as she uttered the final words. A bright golden glow engulfed her two boys and then faded away. It was done.

There could only be seconds until He arrived. She hurried to put Charlie back in his crib, worried he might be stood on if there was a fight.

A flash of inspiration hit her and she summoned her patronus, a doe.

"Go to Amelia, Minerva and Alice. Peter Pettigrew has betrayed the Potters. He follows Voldemort. Beware."

She allowed herself a moment's satisfaction. Lily Potter would have her vengeance. In this life or the next. Hopefully both.

Her brief second of victory was shattered as the bedroom door was blasted inwards. She got up a shield just in time to stop shards of wood from impaling her family.

The Dark Lord Voldemort stepped through the wreckage. He was bleeding from one shoulder. James had not gone quietly into the night.

Lily pushed Harry behind her and placed herself directly in front of the crib.

She was drowning in fear. She could barely breathe. He was going to kill them all.

"Not my children! Please, have mercy! Not my children!" Lily pleaded.

Voldemort laughed cruelly. "Step aside girl. I am not here for you"

"Please! Have mercy! Not Harry and Charlie! Please!" she cried. Harry was shaking behind her and she could her Charlie whimpering.

Voldemort sneered and brought up his wand. "Step aside! I am here for the youngest. Step aside and I may let your other spawn live." The Dark Lord narrowed his black eyes as the fiery woman before him refused to bow to his demands. He, who had Lords of Ancient and Noble Houses grovelling at his feet, flinching in terror if he even raised his voice. He would not stand for this disrespect.

"Not my children! Please – I'll do anything!" Lily begged, desperate. She had to make him. This was the only way.

His wand snapped up, the unforgivable on his tongue. The Potter line would end tonight.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Lily almost sighed in relief. She would see James soon, and though her heart shattered at the thought of losing her sons, of never seeing them grow up, she knew she could do no more.

I hope this works.

Harry watched his mother collapse to the floor in front of him. She fell heavily, landing on her back. Her flame-red hair splayed out around her face. Harry looked into her green eyes, the same as his, but she couldn't see him. Harry didn't know how, but he knew she was gone.

The young boy lifted his eyes from his mother's body and caught sight of the man across the room. Harry shivered under his gaze. His black robes seemed to suck all the light out of the room.

Harry's sight drifted to the wand still pointed in his direction and the young boy was suddenly filled with anger. That man was the reason his mother was lying on the floor. He did this.

Without even thinking, Harry screamed and rushed at the man in front of him, his magic pulsing.

For a second, surprise flitted across Voldemort's face before he schooled it into contempt.

"Stupid boy," he spat. With a flick of his wand, Harry was banished across the room into the far wall. The child crumpled into a heap, seeing stars and in pain. "I will finish you in a minute," the Dark Lord hissed.

Voldemort strode forward until he was only a meter from the crib. Charlie was standing up, hands on the bars. He was alternating between looking at his mother on the floor in front of him and his brother on the far side of the room. Only when Voldemort stopped before him did he look up at the cloaked figure. He had stopped crying an there was nothing but curiosity in his young eyes.

Voldemort stared at the child of the prophecy. He was nothing special. He could not imagine how a child could have power that He, the greatest Dark Lord in British magical history, did not. No matter. To ignore prophecy was foolish. The threat would simply have to be ended. Tonight. And from the death of his last real threat he would complete his protection against his own mortality.

"Charlie Potter, this night you die. This night, I complete my rise to power. Avada Kedavra!"

The deathly green spell raced out of the wand and into the forehead of the child in the crib. The second it touched his skin, a sound like a bell being struck rang out through the room. The golden aura that appeared when Lily Potter completed her ritual once more flared into existence. Charlie fell backwards, crying as his forehead burned.

The spell meant to end the young Potter was returned on to its owner. Even as he was blasted backwards, Voldemort screamed in pain as the connection between his body and remaining bit of soul was ruthlessly severed, the unforgivable malevolently causing as much pain as possible to the creature that dared to defy Death itself.

Harry watched all these events happen in disbelief from his place across the room. He was going to lose Charlie too. He didn't even have time to scream before the man who had done this to his family was blasted across the room, landing in a heap of robes. Harry's eyes were glued to the black pile. Was it over?

In the sudden stillness he could hear crying from the crib. Charlie! He wasn't gone!

Harry scrambled to his feet and limped his way across the room. His whole body was hurting. He reached the crib and put his face between the bars, trying to see his brother.

"Charlie! Charlie are you ok? Shhhh, it's ok Charlie," Harry tried to reassure his brother. He could see the bleeding cut on Charlie's face, but his brother did calm down on hearing his voice. The crying quietened to more of a whimper although the young boy's eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Charlie crawled back over to Harry and grabbed his hand through the bars.

"It's ok Charlie, Daddy will be here soon, or Sirius. I'll stay with you." Harry kept his eyes on his brother, refusing to look anywhere hear where he knew his mother lay.

A wickedly quiet hissing started behind Harry and his senses were flooded with fear. As the sound grew louder, closer, the dread filled Harry until he felt he couldn't move, couldn't breathe, could barely even think.

Charlie's grip on his hand tightened and Harry saw terror in his eyes. The Potter Heir took a deep breath. And another. And turned himself around. Hovering over the pile of now-shrunken robes was a cloud of black mist. It was hissing and pulsing and evil.

It started gliding towards them and with each foot closer it came, the air became more oppressive. Harry saw his mother fall again, heard the first explosion that rocked their home and his father's terrified shouts.

Harry felt something bubbling within him, just below the surface. It soothed his aching body and quietened the images in his mind. It gave him resolve.

He placed himself firmly between Charlie and this new threat and allowed the new feeling to fill him up. He felt confident. Powerful.

Angry.

The soul fragment of Voldemort was only feet away from the two boys when the Potter Heir thrust out his hand and shouted "NO!" A blast of magical energy erupted from the small boy. The whole house shook with the power and conviction of the magic being used. Windows shattered and the small bedroom upstairs when the confrontation was taking place was damaged beyond any hope of repair. The ceiling cracked, the furniture was obliterated and the soul fragment vapourised. Curiously, the only thing left standing was the crib.

Harry sagged, exhaustion sweeping through him. He didn't know what he'd just done, but the evil mist was gone.

He sat heavily, leaning back against the crib. "S'ok Charlie," he slurred, reaching his arm through the bars to grasp his brother's hand. "S'ok."

Then Harry passed out.

AN. Let me know what you think!