The Time Before.
"Murder's out of tune,
And sweet revenge grows harsh."
- William Shakespeare, Othello.
Golden meadows dance in the summer breeze, slowly swaying as the whistling symphony crescendos. Lily Potter watches the performance as her car pushes across the countryside, the sun light melting into the notes. The brilliant green of her eyes watch the meadow fade from gold to grey in a wordless tune, eyes hovering along the very literal horizon. Face haunted by shadows. Lily's white skin glows as the darkness begins to encompass her. A song escaping her lips drifts her baby, in the back seat, to sleep.
Her husband steals a glance at the beautiful red head in the seat beside him. She is effortless, graceful. Like the moon. She wouldn't push the clouds away to be seen. Never teasing, never taunting. Never hateful or selfish. When people insult each other the moon sits passively, watching. It doesn't lower itself to participate in an action so weak. The moon is beautiful. His unconsciousness revisited the moment his blue eyes first found her green; a colourful girl next to a boy in black. Shadowed in darkness; deceptive. James replayed the first conversation he had with the boy…
- Why are you looking at her?
- What is it to you?
- I'm allowed to ask questions.
- What's your name?
- Severus Snape.
- Alright, Snivellus...
Reliving the conversation stirred repressed feelings within James Potter. The ten years separating him from Severus Snape barely fumbled at the surface of forgiveness. James' blood still seethes at the thought of Snape's willingly chosen servitude. The circle he takes pride in. Voldemort's circle. The very circle that is hunting them like wolves as they travel across the swaying countryside, hunting his family for no reason other than a cryptic prediction. His hands began to grip the steering wheel with an unconscious force, his knuckles assuming the colour of snow. James could understand Snape's betrayal towards him, but to Lily? The only person in the world who saw through the baggy clothes and greasy hair? He shook his head in jagged twists, trying unsuccessfully to relieve the raging tension.
A cold hand fluttered at the side of James', lingering. The spell that had gripped his enraged emotions was broken just by the touch. His hands relaxed on the steering wheel, its suffocation ended. His eyes momentarily fell into Lily's green, just as they had all those years ago, before his mind, once again, focussed on their destination.
- You're alright you know, James.
- I know.
- I thought you would.
James flicked on the headlights, suddenly aware that their car was consumed in black nothingness. The lights caught a flash of something lurking by the road. It appeared to be a shaggy dog, but as the car got closer, James became aware of its size and the razor sharp teeth protruding from its rotting mouth. It was growling as they approached, its red eyes cursing the car. The relaxed state James had just acquired was gone, all his strength now focussed on masking the fear inside of him for Lily's sake. This wasn't an ordinary dog; it was the Grim, the omen of misfortune, of death. As their car began to pass the Grim, it lunged at the moving vehicle straight at Lily's door, teeth bared. James froze, helpless, waiting for the splintering impact… but it didn't come. He slammed on the breaks, whirling out of the car, his wand at the ready.
But the road was empty. Cold hands wrenching at his body where he stood, pinching his bare arms he stood for a minute before finally accepting that the Grim wasn't in sight. He lowered himself into the driver's seat, and turned to face Lily. She was twisted around in her seat playing with their baby's feet; eventually she turned to face James.
- Everything alright?
- I just thought I saw something.
- That was a pretty big reaction for someone who thought they saw something..
James laughed and shrugged his shoulders.
- Alright then.
Lily smiled and turned back to the road, a lullaby flowing from her lips in a river of sound. James turned the key in the ignition and took off down the road. His mind was reeling, he knew what he had seen, and there was no possible way that any ordinary dog could disappear as quickly. The sighting drifted James between reality and reverie...
Dumbledore stood, hunched, on their porch in the blistering cold, rambling about a prophecy, a prophecy intertwining his family's lives with Lord Voldemort.
- The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.
Dumbledore's sparkling blue eyes bore into James, a silent message within. Realisation made James feel like he was falling, slipping into dark crevices of the night, the moon howling a distant wail.
- But Harry's a baby.. Dumbledore.. you must be wrong.. you..
His faltering words came out helplessly in a harsh, harrowing sound.
- How.. How does Voldemort know?
Dumbledore lowered his silver head for a brief moment, before his eyes pierced Lily. James heard her intake of breath.
- No.. Severus couldn't.. He-
- Is a servant of Lord Voldemort, Lily, you must know that. He cowered to his Master's power.
A mid Lily's shock, James managed to gather Dumbledore's rattling instructions. They were to be taken to a safe house in Godrics Hollow, protected by the Fidelious Charm and a Secret Keeper. The Secret Keeper must be someone who they trusted completely as the spell could only be broken by their betrayal...
James was broken from his revere as their car rumbled their way onto the cobblestone roads of Godrics Hollow, the town where they would finally have a place to stay, no more travelling to unknown locations, a home. The streets were filled with lanterns, children crowding in a park. The smell of ginger bread wafted into their moving car.
- It's safe. Isn't it, James? The house?
- Dumbledore says it is and I trust his judgement.
- But what about our Secret Keeper? Do you trust him?
James thought of his best friend, Sirius Black. They had met each other on their first journey to Hogwarts and had been breaking rules together ever since. He trusted Sirius above anyone. He was the only choice for Secret Keeper, so when he refused, saying that it would be the obvious choice, James didn't know who to ask. It was only on Sirius' suggestion of trying someone who Voldemort wouldn't think of, that Peter Pettigrew came to mind. He wasn't the bravest, or smartest, person that James knew, but he was loyal.
Their car rolled over the bumps in the main road before they soon turned off into their street.
The curving driveway, lined with deep green bushes, took them to a two story cottage on a slight hill. Lily jumped out of the car before it had completely stopped and ran to the front porch to get a better view. Parking the car, James reached around for Harry, before making his way to stand with his wife. Intertwining their hands Lily pushed the door open. It creaked open and revealed a candle lit house, fully furnished with a brilliant orange fire glowing in the first room to the left. Harry wriggled out of James' arms and waddled along exploring his new home. James eyes followed him until his attention caught on an envelope above the fire.
- Lily and James, welcome to your new home! I took the liberty of furnishing it for you. I do hope you like it. I've been told that the lounges are particularly comfortable. Bathilda Bagshot, whose books I'm sure you will remember from your years at Hogwarts, is a close friend of mine, I do suggest getting to know her. She is trustworthy and will not betray your location. I'm only the swish of a wand away if you need me. Good luck, Potters'. Albus Dumbledore.
As James lowered to letter a small hand brushed his. He looked down at its delicate touch.
- Do you like your new house, Harry?
Harry just stared into his Father's eyes. James bent down and scooped up his son, amazed at how quickly the first year of his life had flown by. He rocked Harry in his arms, his scruffy hair sticking out at all angles.
- I think I'll put him in his cradle now.
Lily, appearing in the doorway, held a bottle in one hand. James gently handed Harry to his Mother's welcoming arms. He watched Lily walk up the stairs before turning around and saying to himself in a gravelly whisper,
- Please be strong, Peter..
James thought that the house would take some getting used to, but the trusted guests were constantly flying to and from the house proclaiming news of the Wizarding World and Voldemort's travels. No one ever spoke of Peter. The days went by in this fashion, never one alike another. The days where Sirius arrived on the porch brought James great joy, and Lily relished in the company of Bathilda Bagshot, who had arrived on the porch on their first morning in Godrics Hollow rapping persistently on their front door.
The day before Halloween, two months after their arrival, James answered the door, to find Peter Pettigrew on their doorstep.
- Peter!
- Peter? James? Did you just day.. Peter! It's so good to see you!
Peter began to mumble a reply when Harry crawled through James' legs. Seeing Harry, Peter let out a noise that resembled a strangled goose. James' eyes narrowed, confused at Peter's reaction to the boy he was protecting.
- Is everything okay, Peter?
- Fine, its.. fine.
James looked at Lily who shrugged and invited Peter inside. James felt he could see the battle raging inside Peter's head as he tried to answer. A slight spasm was the closest they got to a 'yes'.
They sat in the living room by the fire, with Lily and James both attempting conversations with Peter, every attempt only ever one sided. Peter had always been strange, but this behaviour was extreme, even for him. Lily was mid way through a sentence when Peter stood abruptly, announcing he had to leave. Peter had reached the living room doorframe when he turned and looked James in the eye with such an intensity that nobody would have known him capable of. Peter's mouth began to twitch, trying to release his voice,
- I'm..
He didn't finish the sentence, but bolted out the front door, leaving the Potter's staring after him dumbfounded.
James couldn't help remembering the Grim.
Footsteps on their porch alerted the Potters' to a new presence. Bathilda Bagshot's head soon poked around the living room doorframe.
- I almost got trampled by a fat man resembling a rat!
Her face held so much confusion, making it was impossible for Lily and James not to laugh.
James spent most of Halloween splitting wood for the forecasted cold front expected for Godrics Hollow. By sunset he was exhausted and gladly accepted the butterbeer Lily had waiting for him.
- Thank you.
James drank to soothing drink by the window, watching the sun kiss the horizon. He stood there watching the world fall into a crimson glow, but Peter's behaviour still toyed on James' mind. He closed his eyes as darkness crawled along the horizon, hoping to relax, but was greeted with the razor sharp teeth and ferocious growl of the Grim. He snapped his eyes open at the sound of smashing glass. Spinning around to found the source, it took some time to realise he had dropped his butterbeer. All around him was silence, life seemingly swallowed by the darkness beyond the window. Lily's troubled face appearing at his shoulder.
- Take Harry. I'll clean this up. Go relax.
James plonked himself down on the red armchair beside the fire, placing his wand on the table beside him; he lifted Harry onto his lap. James fell into the enchantment of the fire, dancing and creating shadows on the wall. A creak of the front gate briefly distracted him from the orange flames, but the sound was soon entangled with the fatigued whisper of the wind, allowing James to be overpowered by the devilish shadows. Another sound at James' ear caught his attention, the shadows receding into the fire. Harry was pulling at his Father's shirt, staring out into the darkness of the night. Somebody was outside. James warily stood.
- Lily..?
A footstep slithering on their front porch threw him into action.
- Lily! Take Harry and go upstairs!
Seeing her hesitation he added,
- Now!
Lily hurried to her husband, her eyes searching him. He couldn't stop the Grim, his fate, flashing to the forefront of his mind. His death was inevitable, but Lily's wasn't. James pulled Lily into a tight embrace, before kissing his confused son on the forehead and handing him to his Mother.
- I love you, Lily! But you have to trust me and go! Now, go! GO!
- James! What-
- There is no time! Go!
Lily managed to get half way up the stairs before the front door was blasted open. James was in the hallway in a blur, screaming up at Lily through to thick wall of dust, his face filled with desperation, a fool's courage in his heart. A dark hooded figure began to take shape.
- Take Harry and go! Lily, go! It's him! I'll hold him off! Go!
His hand instinctively reached for his wand in his jeans pocket. James new his face had paled.
He didn't have a wand.
James defiantly lifted his head to face the assassin; he wasn't going to die a coward. Voldemort raised his wand, his cloak hood not hiding the formation of a twisted smile.
- Avada Kedavra!
The killing curse shot towards James in a electric green light, Voldemort's laughter echoing around him. He thought he heard Lily call his name as the green light blinded him, but it was too late; his body was already crumpling to the round.
Years later a scruffy haired boy, in baggy clothes, turned to his neat, long necked Aunt. Written upon his face was a clear sign of purpose.
- How did my parents die?
The woman, Petunia Dursley, turned to face the boy, her dull grey eyes stared into his unnaturally bright green, in every respect the same as her dead sisters, right down to its glisten. She could tell him the truth, but nothing in her cared to. Her eyes traced a line from his eyes to his forehead, where, still visible although her efforts to conceal it, was a thin scar shaped like a lightning bolt. Petunia decided then and there she would never be the one to tell him the truth.
- It was a car crash, and don't ask questions.