AUTHOR'S NOTE: First off, thank you to Kimi Komayaka Onnarashii for alerting me to the fact that the font in my previous posting was painfully tiny. I have also posted the next chapter, so keep breathing! (jk, like anything in my story would compell you to stop breathing in the first place) On to the standard disclaimer.. ::rolls up sleeves::

Although I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters/places/events related to Harry Potter (all of that belongs, unfortunately for we fanfiction authors, to the talented J.K. Rowling) I do own this storyline and plot. Thank you for not stealing! Feel free to post it on any of you reader's respective websites, if you ask me first!!!! Got that? Good! ^_~ Thank you so much for taking the time to read this nonsense! So read it, review it, and most importantly, (other than review it) enjoy it! Muchas gracias,

~Teller

What would have happened if Lily had been able to escape Voldemort with the baby Harry in her arms? Harry would have no scar, less fame, and a completely different life. How different? You're about to find out . . .

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It was the usual stunning, breath taking, brilliant sunset that washed Godric's Hollow over with golden light every evening Lily and James Potter had known there. Gold, red, orange, and pink painted the sky a glowing picture of autumn that complimented the red, orange, and brown leaves on the trees nicely. She sighed, and leaned against her husband's chest. The maple leaves almost matched her hair in their reddish glory. Her peaceful reverie and appreciation of nature was abruptly disrupted with a ear shattering -

"Good bye, Sirirus! Thank you for coming!" Bellow from her husband out the door to the retreating back of his friend, who turned and waved in response. He mounted his gargantuan motorcycle, started it up with a tap of his birch wood wand, and roared off - but not along the road, as 'normal,' non-magic (or 'Muggle') motorcycles would - no, Sirius rode straight up into the sky. Lily sighed and tightened her grip around James' waist as she watched him fly away. James looked down at his wife, who was still staring up into the sky worriedly. He smiled, and brushed away her curly ruby hair that looked almost golden in the lights of the setting sun. She turned her emerald gaze to her husband, and smiled slightly. James smiled in return, and kissed her gently.

"Happy Halloween, my love," he murmured when they seperated. She smiled and rested her head against his chest.

"And to you, my darling." They turned from the door and setting sun to their quaint house and young son, shutting out the night that was slowly closing in.

Later that night, Lily sat on the couch, bottle-feeding her son Harry. His night- black hair fell into his green eyes that were mirror images of her own. She brushed a strand of his wayward hair off his pale forehead, smiling, but as her fingers smoothed an area between and slightly above his eyes, her stomach was gripped with a sudden and violent wave of nausea. Her stomach convulsed slightly, and Harry broke away and started crying. Lily inhaled sharply, put Harry down in the crib, and rushed to the bathroom. She was suddenly very violently ill, and when she sat back, she became aware of James' hand rubbing her back gently.

"Lily, what's wrong?" He asked, frowning in concern. Lily shook her head, and broke into sudden sobs, the taste of bile still strong and bitter in her throat. She collapsed on James, unable to calm herself.

"James, I don't know!" She cried, near hysterics. "Something's wrong, something ... I don't know, I just can feel it! I don't ... understand, James!"

"Erm . . . now, now, Lily, calm yourself, everything is going to be just fine . . . I promise." Lily shook her head, clearly as terrified as James was, but for a completely different reason. She gasped, taking deep breaths, and the nausea was suddenly gone as if it had never been. She took another huge breath of air, and it still did not return. She shook her head.

"I . . . I'm all right now, James. I'm fine." She stood, and James followed suit, still frowning at her in concern. She pressed a hand to her temple, and James saw that it was still shaking slightly. Neither of them had ever been huge Divination fans, but this was beyond weird....

"I'm going to make a pot of tea, all right James?" She asked, strangely bright. James nodded, still wide-eyed, clearly thinking that saying 'no' would send his wife into convulsions again. She hurried to the kitchen, and put a pot on the boiler. James picked up Harry, and played a rather slow version of patty-cake with him to pass the time. Without warning, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and he whipped his head around over his shoulder. Nothing was there. James raised a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it, shaking his head slightly. Lily had raised his nerves, and it was Halloween, after all . . . he brought his hand back down, and the anxiety attacked again like a rabid hyena. James jumped up, hand clasped on the back of his neck in a vise-like grip, looking around wildly. Harry started crying, startled by his father's sudden and aggressive movements. Lily came in, carrying two cups of steaming tea.

"What's wrong, James?" She asked worriedly. No trace of the former fear still glinted in her verdant eyes, and James was not eager to re-awake that.

"Nothing, Lily, I startled Harry." She accepted that, and handed James his tea. She sat down in a nearby arm-chair and closed her eyes, stirring her tea slowly. James sat across from her, and shivered slightly.

"Lily, dear, I'm a touch cold. Would you mind if I started the fire?" Lily shook her head, and took a long sip of her tea. James pointed his wand at the fireplace, which blazed into life and cast strangely ominous and unfamiliar shadows on the walls of the small room. He settled back, trying to get comfortable, trying to ignore the whisper-light fingers of fear that were brushing up and down his spine - and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled yet again. He shifted in his seat, looking for an excuse to get up.

"Erm . . . excuse me a moment, Lily. I'm going to get a sweater." Lily nodded again, and finished her tea. As James left the room, she bent and picked up Harry, singing him a nursery rhyme she had learned from her mother.

"A flea and a fly were stuck in a floo,

'Let us flee,' said the fly,

'Let us fly,' said the flea,

And out of the floo they flew." Harry giggled, but then stiffened in her arms, and began crying. There was a loud crash, and a foundation-shaking bang echoed around them, making books and pictures of grinning Siriuses and Remuses drop to the floor. A high-pitched laugh followed the crash, and James' face appeared in the door, pale with fear.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him!" Lily gasped, and turned away from James, then turned back to him.

"James, no -" James pushed her to the fireplace.

"Lily, go! I'll hold him off!" Lily began to cry, tears streaming down her face.

"James, I love you -" she began, but James cut her off with a fierce kiss that made her cry harder, because she knew it would be the last one she would ever share with him. He pulled away.

"I love you too, Lily," he said, and turned from her. Lily could hardly see from the tears streaming down her face, but turned to the fireplace and grabbed a small jar. Her hands were shaking too hard for her to open it, so she threw it into the fire and it exploded into green flames twice her height. She fell into it, sobbing, "Pirate's Cove," and sheilding the crying Harry in her arms from the falling ash. As the swirling feeling of vertigo overwhelmed her, she thought: 'Let us flee,' said the fly, 'Let us fly,' said the flea,

"And out of the floo they flew," she sobbed as she collapsed onto the floor of Sirius Black's living room.

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More's coming! Promise! Thanks for reading! Now, review!! (please?)