He left his wand behind. Too courageous for his own good.
He went wandless, defenseless to face the darkest wizard of all time.
Why? If he had taken his wand…
No ifs.
I never used mine either.
The two of us, great aurours, lovers who had thrice defied him, didn't raise a wand against him when he came for our son.
No hexes, no curses, not even a single shield charm.
Te only thing that protected Harry were the fallen bodies of his parents.
James slowed the assault. Told me to run.
His death gave me the seconds to prepare myself for dying to save my son.
They could have been the seconds I grabbed my wand. The seconds I sent for help. The seconds I fought.
Instead I died.
Two aurours should always be prepared for attack.
Two parents should always be ready to defend.
Two people in hiding should never release their wands.
We were all three; James and I.
Yet we had no wands.
We didn't fight back.
Because we trusted one man.
The surprise of seeing the hooded figure stalk the path to our front door made us forget our promises.
Maybe we should have trusted Dumbledore instead.
Maybe we should have been armed.
Maybe we wouldn't have died.
But then…
Would Voldemort still be alive?