The Death of the Potters

"The time has come, young Severus," Voldemort hissed at his young Potions master as he drew up his hood. "I've located the Potters and go to deal with them, now."

Snape stared at him, his heart pounding, unable to move.

Lily.

From within the hood, two crimson eyes considered him.

"I only want the child, Severus. I will not harm any of them. He will become a powerful wizard under my tutelage, and loyal to me. Accompany me, and you can have your revenge upon his father and claim his mother as you've always desired. She can be Obliviated so she forgets about her husband and child, and you can take her away . . . live . . . happily ever after, boy. Don't you want that? By rights, she should have been yours."

Snape took this in. Albus had promised to protect Lily and her family, but the old wizard had failed. Voldemort knew where they were. But how? How did he know? Still, if he went with him, he could make sure Lily was safe. James, he had it coming to him, but Lily . . . his Lily . . .

Snape drew up his hood as well.

"I'll come," he said shortly.

"Take hold of my robes," the Dark Lord ordered.

Snape did so, and they Disapparated from the stronghold.

Snape stood back and watched as Voldemort blasted the door of the Potter's residence off its hinges, and heard James shouting for Lily to take their son and run. He was frozen for a moment as he saw the Dark Lord cross the threshold and utter the Killing curse.

Snape stood there, petrified by the silence that followed, then saw Voldemort's robed figure disappear.

The young wizard ran into the house and stopped cold as he saw James Potter sprawled on the floor in the foyer, his wand next to him and glasses askew. He was dead, staring up at the ceiling sightlessly.

Snape stared down at him, not feeling the gratification he thought he would. He had dreamed of him dead, but it had always seemed that he would live forever.

Suddenly, he heard Lily scream, "No, not my baby!" and bolted up the stairs, just in time to see green light flash from a bedroom on the left.

"Nooo!" he cried, rushing in to find Lily dead on the floor, her baby sitting next to her, crying as he looked up at Voldemort, who pointed his wand at him.

Snape stared at Lily's body, feeling as if the entire world was falling down around him, then his black eyes shifted toward Voldemort wildly. He'd killed her!

"No!" Snape cried, lunging at the Dark Lord's back as he hissed the curse, the tip of his wand pointed right at the child's forehead. Snape felt only the slightest contact before he was blasted back by a powerful force that blew away a portion of wall. Stunned, he lay in the rubble. He could hear Lily's baby crying. Smoke and fire were rising all around them and Voldemort was gone.

Staggering to his feet, Snape stumbled over to Lily's corpse, his eyes wet with tears.

"I'm so sorry, Lily," he said softly, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I believed him, believed his lies when he intended to kill you from the very beginning."

Little Harry Potter crawled over to his mother and pulled on her pitifully, looking up at Snape. A nasty, jagged cut was on his forehead The Slytherin looked down at him. He couldn't leave him here. He'd die.

Snape was bleeding terribly from a gash in his leg and losing a lot of blood. He scooped the crying child up and carried him through the now blazing house and outside to safety, hidden in the smoke. People gathered, screaming and calling for assistance. No one saw the young wizard and the child he held.

Snape put Harry down on the ground and pinched the baby so he'd scream. Harry howled as Snape ran around the side of the house and Disapparated.

"That's Lily's baby!" Hagrid bellowed, rushing toward the sound. He had been in the area, calling on an old friend, who secretly bred Acromantulas. He was looking for a female for his friend and former pet, Aragog. He knew Lily and James lived in Godric's Hollow, he just couldn't remember where.

But his memory of their home came back to him when he saw it in flames. The half-giant ran toward the sound of the crying baby and he scooped him up from the ground, running back to safety beyond the flames as the house collapsed behind him. .

"Oh, yeh poor tyke," the half-giant said softly to the crying child in his burly arms. "Looks like yer an orphan now. No one coulda survived tha' I'd better take yer to Dumbledore. He'll know wha' ter do wit' yeh."

Huge tears fell from Hagrid's eyes as he did just that.

No one saw the other person escaping the ruins of the Potter house. They wouldn't notice him, he was in his animagus form, small, grey, Voldemort's wand clamped between his teeth as he avoided all the running feet and Aurors.

Peter Pettigrew made his way into the darkness, scampering away from the scene, fear in his ratty little heart. Voldemort had instructed him to follow, but keep hidden. He was to strike Snape down once the Potters were killed. Voldemort believed the young wizard had betrayed him. He didn't have any proof, but felt it in his gut. He only asked Severus to accompany him to witness the death of the woman he loved as a punishment before he, too, was hexed from the face of the earth.

But Peter had been too slow and was caught in the blast like Snape was, and recovered slower. He saw him run by with the child, and entered the bedroom to find no sign of the Dark Lord other than his wand, which he took. Then he changed form and made his way out of the house and into the darkness.

He had to find someplace to hide. He had betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort to save his own life. He had been their secret keeper, and two people knew that . . . Albus Dumbledore and Sirius Black. He was sure Sirius would confront him, and the wizard could always tell when he was lying. Hopefully, he could leave the wizarding world before Black found him.

If he did, Peter knew he'd never make it to trial.

Severus Snape fled to Spinners End, tended to his wounds and sequestered himself in his home, mourning the loss of Lily and Voldemort's treachery. He'd killed her.

Killed her.

That wasn't the way it was supposed to go. James . . . yes, he was supposed to die, but Lily . . . Lily was supposed to be his. They were supposed to run away together, and Voldemort raise her son as his own.

Snape should have known the Dark Lord wouldn't allow a potential rival to live, particularly one with the power to destroy him. Nor would he allow a witch to live who had the potential to produce other such powerful children. Yes, Voldemort had intended to wipe out the entire family from the very beginning.

Snape stared at the floor sightlessly. What was he to do now? He couldn't let anyone know he'd been at Godric's Hollow and witnessed the murders. He'd been seen as an accomplice although he'd done nothing. He'd have to act as if he hadn't known of Voldemort's plan. He'd have to pretend to be unaware of the Potters deaths.

Well, it wouldn't be hard to show grief. He could only feel two emotions right now . . . grief and despair.

He had no idea what happened to Voldemort. Maybe he was destroyed when he tried to kill the child. Maybe he had self-fulfilled the prophecy and attacking the boy had destroyed him. Oh, if only he'd gone for the baby first . . . Lily might still be alive.

Snape clasped himself tightly with his arms and rocked back and forth, misery, guilt and bitterness wrapping around him like a new skin, sinking into his very soul, darkening it and destroying whatever slim hopes he had for happiness.

And that darkness didn't lift for the next eighteen years.

A/N: Just a scenario that popped into my head in the middle of the night, so I wrote it out and shared it. Snape being present the night Lily died was just too compelling not to explore, as well as him saving Harry. Thanks for reading.