H-E-R-O
Chapter I
Godric's Hollow
Godric's Hollow / Halloween 1981
"Step aside, you silly girl!" spat Voldemort, raising his wand.
"Never!" retorted Lily Potter, placing herself in the way of the cot.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
A bolt of green light shot at Lily, who raised her arms, a small black box absorbing the curse. In an explosion of light both Lily and Voldemort were sent flying backwards. A bolt of energy flew out of the smoking box as it fell from Lily's hand, striking the crying baby in the cot on the forehead, leaving a lightning bolt scar.
"No!" cried Voldemort, raising his arm as his hand cracked and crumbled like stone.
Pushing herself up onto her knees, Lily watched as Voldemort slowly crumbled to nothing, his wand rolling away as Voldemort crumbled into nothingness.
"Finally," muttered Lily, pitching forwards, falling into unconsciousness.
Stumbling into the room, James Potter dropped to knees next to Lily, clutching a gash on his arm, a dark bruise forming on his forehead.
"Thank God!" sighed James as he felt a strong pulse.
Rolling Lily into the recovery position she'd once taught him, James stood and picked Harry up out of the cot.
"Impossible," breathed James as Harry opened his eyes, no longer bright green like his mother's but dull grey.
"James! Lily!" called a voice from downstairs.
"Up here, Sirius," replied James, staring at Harry as Sirius charged up the stairs.
"What happened? Are you okay?" asked Sirius hurriedly, coming to a halt, "Where's Voldemort?"
"I don't know, Voldemort came, I tried to fight him but he must have knocked me out," answered James, "I woke up and found this, Lily unconscious, Voldemort gone and Harry crying."
"Wormtail!"
"Don't think that, Padfoot," spoke James, "What if Voldemort tortured it out of him?"
"No he didn't, he was just fine when I saw him half an hour ago, rushing off saying his mother had been taken ill," muttered Sirius, "I've got find that traitorous bastard!"
"No!" stated James, stopping Sirius in his tracks, "I need your help, we need you."
Sighing, Sirius turned back to face James, "Fine, but next time I see him I'll make him pay."
H-E-R-O
St. Mungo's
"I-I can't believe this," stuttered James, looking down at his infant son with tears in his eyes, "Hasn't that bastard taken enough?"
"I'm sure it'll be fine, James," replied Sirius, placing a reassuring hand on his best friend's shoulder, "I'm pretty sure we'd all rather Harry alive and a squib than dead."
"Yeah, it's just he had so much potential with magic," muttered James, "Now Voldemort took that as well, what else will he take?"
"Mr. Potter, your wife is awake, it's urgent," informed a healer from the doorway.
"Go," urged Sirius, "I'll stay here with Harry."
Nodding slightly, James took off after the healer, striding down the maze of corridors. Turning a corner, James came to a halt next to Lily's.
"Hey," smiled James, taking his wife's hand.
"James," spoke Lily weakly, her skin pale, white streaks in her hair.
"What's wrong?" asked James worriedly, looking up at the healer.
"We're not sure, one second she was fine, the next she started deteriorating," answered the healer, "It's like she's dying of old age, her body is simple shutting down, I'm afraid there's nothing we can do."
"No, there's got to be something!" exclaimed James, jumping to his feet.
"James, this is my fault," coughed Lily, grabbing James' arm and pulling him back into his seat.
"It's not, it's Voldemort!" growled James, the healer flinching at the name.
"When I went back to work at the Department of Mysteries after Harry was born I started work on way to counteract the killing curse," explained Lily, "I guess I didn't get it right, it didn't stop it, just slowed it down."
"I can't lose you Lily," pleaded James, tears flowing freely, "We've still got so much to do, how can I raise Harry on my own?"
"Harry's going to be a wonderful man, just do what you think is right," replied Lily, "I love you, James Potter."
"I love you too, Lily Evans."
With one final breath, Lily closed her eyes, her body going still.
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St Clementine's
Wiping away his tears, James stared down at his wife's coffin, alone now most of the congregation had left.
"I'm so sorry for your loss," spoke Cornelius Fudge as he placed a hand on James' shoulder, "I'd you ever want to talk, you know where to find me."
"Thanks, Cornelius," replied James, staying where he was.
With a nod, Cornelius turned and left, as the Junior Minister for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, the man was in charge of liaising with the DoM to find the cause of Lily's death and vanquishing of Voldemort.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" queried Sirius as he came to a halt beside his brother in all but blood.
"Absolutely, I don't want him to grow up to be like Petunia, bitter and jealous," answered James, "Where is he?"
"Remus is saying goodbye," informed Sirius, the two making the short walk to the Potter Cottage in silence.
Reaching their destination, James and Sirius made there way inside, greeted by the sight of Remus with Harry while Adrian and Geraldine Evans, Lily's parents, stood off to one side.
"I'm going miss you, cub," muttered Remus as he hugged the confused toddler, "So much."
"Daddy!" cried Harry as he raced over to James.
"Hey, Prongs Jr.," spoke James, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "There's something I need to tell you."
"What's that?" questioned the toddler, "Is it where Mummy went?"
"No, it's more important than that," replied James, kneeling so he was at eye level with his son, "Daddy has to go away now for a while and you're going to staying with Grandma and Grandad, but it doesn't mean that I love you any less."
H-E-R-O
Wandsworth / Halloween 1992
Waking in a cold sweat, Harry Evans sat bolt upright, his chest heaving. Sighing, Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the clock telling him it was four in the morning.
"I'm not going to get anymore sleep," groaned Harry as he pushed himself up to his feet.
As Harry shut his bedroom door behind him he couldn't help thinking back to his nightmare, a flash of green light and an unearthly scream.
"Couldn't sleep?" asked a man in his early fifties as Harry slumped down at the kitchen table.
"Yeah," replied Harry, the man placing a steaming mug of cocoa in front of him, "Thanks, Ade."
"Just don't tell your gran," smiled Adrian Evans, sipping his own mug of cocoa, although Harry suspected there was something a little extra in there.
"Sure thing," grunted Harry, taking a slurp.
"You packed for the trip to Godric's Hollow?" asked Adrian, running his hand through his greying hair.
"Yep," muttered Harry, staring into his mug.
"It's hard to believe it's been twelve years since we lost your mother," stated Adrian, shaking his head.
"I'm going for a walk."
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Ten minutes later found Harry trudging down the street, hands in his pockets. He hated Halloween, the night his mother, Lily, had been killed by an evil wizard.
But that wasn't the reason Harry was dreading the annual Evans' family trip to Godric's Hollow to visit Lily's grave, but of the living people still there.
After his mother had been killed James Potter, Harry's father, had discovered his son was a squib, a child without magic born to a magical family.
James had taken the coward's way out, choosing to pass Harry to Adrian and Geraldine Evans, Lily's parents, who formally adopted him, while the rest of the wizarding world believe he had died the same night as his mother.
Only two years after the death of his wife, James had remarried and had new children to replace his squib embarrassment.
Not that his squib status meant he was completely without magic, on his cousin Dudley's eleventh birthday the entire family had visited a zoo where Harry had discovered his ability to talk with snakes.
As the pale first light of sun slowly lit up the street Harry looked up to see he had managed to walk back to the apartment building where he lived with his grandparents without thinking.
"Harry!" called a voice, making the teen turn.
"Morning, Jeff," spoke Harry, accepting the letters the postman handed to him.
"It's that day of the year isn't it?"
"Yeah," nodded Harry.
"Give my regards to your grandparents," replied Jeff, setting off again.
"Sure thing," muttered Harry, sorting through the mail as he made his way inside and up the stairs.
Entering the apartment, Harry dumped the mail on the counter, sliding a letter addressed to him into his back pocket.
H-E-R-O
Godric's Hollow / Devon
Stretching, Harry climbed out of the car, enjoying the use of his legs after a cramped four hour car journey.
"But I want to play on my Game Boy!" moaned Dudley from where his Aunt Petunia was trying to get him out of Uncle Vernon's latest company car.
"Let the boy have his fun, Petunia," urged Vernon.
"How would you like it if he was being this disrespectful of Marge?" retorted Petunia, her head whipping around to face Vernon.
"Dudley, out the car!" instructed Vernon hurriedly, Dudley grumbling as he clambered out.
Setting off through the graveyard, Harry glanced at the headstones as he passed, seeing the same familiar names, Potter, Dumbledore and Peverell. Looking up, Harry froze still, his fist clenching in anger.
"What are you doing here?" spat Harry, marching forwards.
"I here to pay my respects," replied James Potter from where he was stood in front of Lily's headstone, "Just like you, son."
"Don't you dare call me that!" growled Harry, "You're not my father!"
James sighed, "Son-"
"Your son doesn't exist anymore!" retorted Harry hotly, "You saw to that!"
Turning, Harry started to walk away as James put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
"Don't touch me!" yelled Harry, slamming his palm into James' chest, a red blast sending him flying backwards, landing at the foot of Lily's headstone.
Taking one look at James, Harry set off out of the graveyard.
"Wait up!" called James, stopping Harry as he came to halt behind him.
"You know, I used to write a letter to Santa every Christmas when I was younger," spoke Harry, glaring daggers at James as he turned to face him, "When I was three I asked for my daddy to come and take me away so we could a family again. Next Christmas I wished you would visit for the day, until in the end all wished for was a single present off you."
James took a step forwards, "Harry-"
"Grandad found the letter on Christmas Eve, so he raced out after work in a blizzard to buy me a toy," interrupted Harry, "Christmas morning I opened a present from you, I was so excited, but knew it was Grandad's handwriting, that's when you stopped being my father."
With one last glare, Harry turned and marched away.
"What have I done," muttered James.
H-E-R-O