Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I owned Harry Potter, do you honestly think I'd sit here and be writing my own stories about my opinions, or even just fancies ON MY OWN STORY? No, I'd be out living it up somewhere tropical.
Lily Evans-Potter quietly closed the door to her office in the Department of Mysteries, a faint smile gracing her lips. Tonight she had accomplished something that she'd worked on as a student at Hogwarts, and had continued to work on until now. She'd slaved on and off, for Ministry funding was becoming harder to get. Stepping into a dimly lit hallway, she recognized her handsome young husband waiting on a bench with his head in his hands. He looked weary and sleepy. "It's done," she whispered into his ear.
James Potter jumped, startled. For a moment, utter bewilderment crossed his face, followed by relief, and finally curiosity.
"What's finished?" he asked, standing up and taking Lily's small hand in his own.
She fought the urge to smile and replied, "The project I've been working on."
"No more late nights cooped up doing Merlin knows what?" James eagerly implored his wife.
"None," responded Lily just as fervently.
"Well, come on, Harry's sound asleep in the house. I tell you, it's been murder putting him to bed without you." James informed her.
They aparated into their home, finding it quiet. James landed on Lily's foot with a devious look on his face.
"You did that on purpose!" Lily screeched, but not being able to hide her amusement.
Ruffling his messy black hair, James replied, "Who, me?" with a semi0innocent look on his face.
Lily eyes him suspiciously, then started up the stairs. "I'm going to see Harry."
James nodded and conjured up some noodles and a pot, starting a fire on the stove.
Lily stepped silently into baby Harry's bedroom, turning on the light. Harry's eyes slowly opened up, and the baby gurgled happily at the sight of his mother. She picked him up in her arms and cradled him close, settling down into a rocking chair as she gently told him of her night's work. Harry fell asleep to the sound of his mother's voice and the slow, monotonous rocking of the chair.
A voice broke the silence, coming from downstairs.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" yelled James desperately.
Quickly steeping across the room, Lily lay Harry back in his crib, as he gently began to cry. She stepped back and ran to the door. She shuddered as a green flash showed from down the stairs and around the corner. That was the end of her husband. Her mind briefly sailed back to the capsule, the size of her hand, that glowed with a light purplish light, and hoped her husband would not die in vain. That capsule held the charm she'd worked on for months, perfecting, but never being given the opportunity to use. This was its' test, unfortunately it wasn't really a test, for two young lives depended on that spell tonight.
An evil figure entered at the door, and Lily ran over to Harry's crib, shielding him from the view of the dark wizard, whose red eyes fixed on Lily's boring into her. She blinked, shook her head, and returned the gaze, unfalteringly.
"I'll do anything, please," she said quietly, entreatingly. Her mind raced back to that spell, fragile and growing, inside the capsule at the Department of Mysteries. It would be easily destroyed.
Voldemort raised an eyebrow, before pointing his wand at her. Without breaking his gaze, Lily stealthily lifted her out of her pocket, with her hands behind her back.
She muttered, "Amatorius ara," before slipping into nothingness, of her own accord. A pulse of energy surged through Harry's veins, and the baby smiled, not knowing that his mother had just committed the ultimate sacrifice.
Voldemort looked uneasy, it was not often that his victims committed suicide before he killed them. They didn't normally have the time. He chanced a step forward, closer to Harry, and when Lily Evans-Potter didn't move, he knew took for granted that she killed herself. Her passing was something much deeper than he would ever fathom, it was a sincere and purposeful depart from life, given to save another. A selfless act, backed only by love and a potion he knew nothing of that floated above a pedestal at the Department of Mysteries.
The baby, easy game, was all that was left. He stepped closer, coming to face this apparent enemy. Nothing looked special about him, no mark, he was ordinary. Raising his wand and pointing it at the babbling baby, he whispered the words, "Avada Kedavra," only to have the flash of green light reverted back at him. An odd tearing he felt, as his body was ripped from the fraction of a soul he had become. The body that was once his merely vanished, like a thin film of smoke, into the frozen air.
Barely there, the fragment of soul floated away, weak and worried. The boy had lived.
A/N: Thanks for reading, and I'm sorry it was short. For the record, "Amatorius Ara" means 'love protection' in Latin. Or at least 'love protect'- not sure which one. Anyway, please R'n'R!