Prologue

Prologue

James Potter lifted the automatic rifle up to his shoulder and fired a burst at the masked strangers. Once they scattered he ran across the open room to the stair case. He took the stairs backwards shooting random bursts of lead to keep the terrorist's heads down. He needed to get up to Lily and his son. He wouldn't let Voldemort kill him. The only way the twisted terrorist would get 10 feet from his only child would be after stepping over his dead body. As James reached the top of the stairs he yanked a grenade out of his pocket and sent it down to the masked men. While they were momentarily distracted he unlocked the door to the nursery and slipped inside the dim room. After he relocked the oak door he turned around to face his wife.

Only he found her dead on the floor. Blood seeped out of a gash in the side of her neck. He slowly lifted his head to look over at the crib. Standing beside the crib was a gray eyed killer. Beside him on the floor was a disregarded metal mask. "Voldemort you are one son of a bitch. My son has nothing to do with you and me. Leave him alone he is innocent."

The terrorist chief twirled a knife in his hand. He had no expression on his face. It was a blank slate. It showed neither amusement nor remorse. Then the man whipped around and flung the knife. It drove into James chest. The black haired man fell back onto the floor. Then the man leaned into the crib. Just as he began to slowly cut the baby boy's neck. He fell back with a crack. Using all of his last strength James had managed to get off a shot before joining his wife in heaven. But unfortunately the shot didn't kill the man and soon he swung himself out the window he had entered and left to find help and the time to heal. If it was the last thing he did he would kill Harry James Potter.

Two hours later Colonel John Thomas entered the shattered doorway of the house. The terrorist group had used explosives stolen from a military armory to literally blow in the door. After stepping through the wooden shrapnel he came upon a mound of dead "Death Eaters" it was the self proclaimed name of Voldemort's faction. All their faces were covered in metallic masks with warped faces. He also noticed a sizable crater in the floor. It appeared that James must have used a grenade.

Finally he came to the stairs. He walked up them slowly step by step. Meanwhile he was hoping to find the Potters alive safe and sound. He also tried to imagine what it must have been like to be fleeing up the stairs and to not know if he wife was alive or not. By the evidence in the living room it had been James who was downstairs while Lily was assumed to be upstairs with the baby. He recalled the boy had been named Harry.

At last he came to the door at the top of the stairs. So far none of the forensics teams had been through here. The door was locked and the team had given him the choice of being the one to see what had transpired behind the oak door. He took out a lock pick to snap open the lock mechanism. It clicked and slowly opened on to a grisly scene.

Lily lay on the floor to one side of the crib. On the other side there was a blood trail that led to the window. The C.S.I team had once again already known that after finding a blood streak down the side of the house. They had assumed that it was one of the room's occupants retreating after having been mortally wounded. John could now see that that occupant must have been "Lord" Voldemort himself. He muttered a curse to him self. James hadn't been able to kill the bastard. It would be just another thorn in his side. Not only had he lost his best staff Lieutenant and a good communications sergeant but the offender had gotten away only mortally wounded. He just shrugged it off as another reason to hunt the bastard down to the ends of the earth. The son of a bitch would have no safe haven on God's green earth to hide.

Finally the Colonel walked over to the crib dreading the view. Instead he found a sleeping baby with a bleeding scar on its cheek. He exulted and picked the boy up. Harry woke up groggily and began to cry. John settled the babe into his arm and headed downstairs. Voldemort hadn't been able to kill them all. He had left one who would be labeled by the media as the Boy-who-lived.

John legally had to give the boy up to the official guardians. But he knew he would be seeing more of the boy in the years to come. If nothing else he owed it to James and Lily to take care of him. There was also the likelihood that somehow Voldemort would be back to take care of the business he had never gotten to finish before. Yes he would keep the boy's home under the utmost scrutiny he could.

The boy would be living with Petunia and Vernon Dursley. They were his aunt and uncle, Petunia was Lily's sister. They also had a young baby around Harry's age named Dudley. Hopefully they would be a fine family for the young Potter to live with. Of course if they weren't the boy could just wait until he was old enough sol he could enter Hornwood Military School where John would certainly be able to keep tabs on him.

John looked up into the bright sky full of clouds and silently prayed the boy would never have to be in fear of his life. He also promised his parents where ever they were that he wouldn't let them down. Their deaths wouldn't just be another couple of names on a casualty list. Voldemort and the Death Eaters would pay and extremely for what they had done to this family…