NOTES: Just a small one shot on the anniversary of Lily and James Potter. Plus it's been something that I've wanted to write for a while. Here you guys go, hope you like it. Leave a comment or like!

Happy Halloween everyone!

PS. Sorry if I make any of you guys cry! If it makes you guys feel better, I cried writing this too...

In Remembrance

"What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal."

― Albert Pine

Death is never fair.

"You have to admit it, James, it's a good song."

"Well it's not witches music but it is good."

James spun his wife around the living room floor. It made Lily laugh as they laughed as the song continued. At that moment, all they thought of was their future during a bleak war. They thought about the baby if it was a boy or girl. They thought about Sirius, Remus, and Peter. They thought about Alice and Frank who were expecting as well, Lily already making plans on introducing their children when they were born.

At that moment, they were just two kids in love. They knew that tomorrow a war would have to be fought but for now they were Lily and James, dancing in their living room to some muggle music. At that moment in time, they were okay.

Harry made his way to the cemetery of quiet Godric's Hollow. The children ran around, hyped up with candy wearing colorful costumes ready for treats and tricks. He smiled at the children, gripping the bouquet of lilies as he walked ahead.

The cemetery was quiet, leaves crunching disturbing that quiet as Harry walked to the graves. He saw the statue of a family, knowing who that family was-the little boy with no scar, no burden on his shoulders and the couple smiling, filled with love. Harry found the graves of his parents, kneeling down and placed the flowers on there.

He wanted to be alone as he told his parents what happened in the months after he was here. There weren't any Death Eaters chasing after him, no time hanging over his life, if he would see to live another day or die trying to save his friends. Instead, the war is finally over, people mourn and celebrate the victory. He should be celebrating Halloween with his friends and the Weasley clan, instead, he is here mourning two people he never got the chance to meet. Telling them that he finally defeated the man that killed them in cold blood.

Harry walked away from his parents' graves, from the smiling statue of his family and headed over to the house where James and Lily's lives ended.

The little signs are still there, honoring Harry. He will forever be known as the Boy-Who-Lived but if history remembers him like that, then they will surely forget the people who helped him stay alive in those crucial hours. His father, who went against Voldemort trying to give his wife and son minutes for them to escape. Lily, who sacrificed herself against Voldemort, begging to spare Harry's life even if that meant she died. In Harry's eyes, they should have been the ones hailed as heroes, not him. But he was one, he was alive while his parents are dust and bone in the cold ground.

The house is silent, the wood deteriorating years after the attack. It smells like rotting wood, wet mildew and something that Harry can't pace his finger on. He carefully walks inside, trying very hard not to get himself hurt.

Harry tries to figure out how his parents lived there. What they did during those months, days stuck in this house as the war raged on. He wanted to learn more but it would be impossible. Most of the people in his parents' lives, their dear friends were dead and gone. He cast Lumos, engulfing the spot with light as he trekked through the home.

He did not dare try go up the steps, looking as if even a tiny bit of air could knock it down. But even so, curiosity was one thing Harry never let himself get stopped so defying the little voice in his head, he made his way up careful as to where he stepped. The nursery was a no-go, even though he could see the door blown off its hinges. He stepped only an inch into his parents' bedroom, or what used to be theirs. Just like the rest of the house that was intact, the bedroom was filled with dust, the scent of dust, rotting wood and mildew became too familiar to Harry the longer he stayed inside.

But he wanted to be inside their home, imagine what could have been and what used to be.

This house held 'what could have been' and echoes of what happened on that October night.

Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!

"Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy … Not Harry! Not Harry! Please — I'll do anything …"

These are echoes that have left its mark on Harry much like the wide hole in the ceiling of the cottage. It haunts Godric's Hollow and it mourns the people that once lived here.

Harry would have liked to imagine his parents being those heroes, brave in the face of evil but also just young adults trying to make the best of a war. They were sweethearts, a young family with a newborn son and war veterans surviving a deadly war. Trying to find good days in dark times. He could imagine James cracking a joke just to make Lily laugh and for a split second, he thought he heard a laugh.

Something creaked inside the house as Harry made his way down the rickety damaged stairs. Must be the wind, He thought to himself as he walked out the front door. But Harry felt like there was someone with him in the home and he hoped that maybe it could be his parents seeing him from the great beyond.

Harry took one last look and saw the lights on and a couple dancing in the living room by the window. A red-headed woman being spun around, her head thrown back laughing at whatever the messy raven-haired man said. It was just the two of them, a smile on their faces as if there was nothing they could handle. They could but in the end death wasn't fair, Harry knew that well.

He walked away from the house and away from the ghosts that resided in it.