Disclaimer: I own nothing, though you probably guessed that.
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Prologue
Lily threaded her hands in through her crackling red hair and out of hit, feeling a slight sense of pain when she ripped a knotted piece of hair from her skull by force. I deserve this pain, she continued, unable to think clearly of the child being cared for by close friends. Her child of which she was in her school Professor's office, daring to speak of handing him over to his death by the Dark Lord Voldemort.
For a year and more, friends had died and families had been torn apart. The Longbottom family, for instance. Oh, Alice and Frank. The dorky, brave, and courageous pair. They had a son. He was destined to grow up and experience the wizarding world as a young man. To go to Ollivander's and experience that rushing, glowing sensation at the pits of your stomach when you get the wand that is matched for you. To go to Hogwarts and be cheered on by the house you get picked into. On that first trip to Hogsmeade. He was going to experience it with his parents to write him letters while he was away and to encourage him while they were together.
But now, the closest contact would be annual visits to St. Mungo's, holding back tears as he witnesses his mother and father, mumbling under their breaths bits and pieces of words and nothings. He would lose all that he deserved rightfully.
Same could be said for their own son, though. He was the son of James and Lily Potter, they would all shout! He was to have the sharpest brain and be the star on the quidditch field. But he wasn't going to get special treatment or even treatment at all.
Because he was going to die.
Tonight.
Lily had begged, pleaded, and wept for a better solution for her family, but Dumbledore had insisted in his calm, clever, and almost cunning tone.
"The sacrifice you will make will be great. . . much greater than you deserve. But it will save your lives and the lives of others if Voldemort gets the boy." His crooked nose was red from ill health. "If he does not have him, he will take many others. And as he kills," Lily released a sob, "Harry, he will be weakened beyond repair. The killing of the innocent is of the cruelest thing, and he will be defeated at last."
James tried to console Lily, attempting to tell her that their son would be hero never forgotten, and how many lives it would save and the vengeance of the lives he took everyone so deserved.
"No!" She shouted, standing. "He is my son! To me, his life matters more than anyone's and I don't care! I don't care if they all live or die, Albus! Harry will live, and by God I will not be the one to throw him into the graves!" Lily screamed to the old man, gathering with fury her things and her husband.
Albus looked back, a cunning glint in his eye. "Tonight, the world will either be raised or razed. We all lie in your palm, Potters. Go to Malfoy Manor to lay down the boy's life in order to save us all, or be selfish. Goodbye." With a whisk of his great blue cloak, he stood and bounded away.
Selfish?
Saving her son was selfish?
"James, I want to leave," Lily demanded, tears almost immediately coming to her eyes at the decision she was faced with. And no, it was not a tough decision. It was a simple decision. It was terribly tough to get Albus, the crooked minded, manipulating, odious piece of lying filth. Her son was being looked after by Remus and Sirius, the young babe's two godfathers.
Her husband was hesitant. "Lily," he began, pulling her down by her sleeve to meet his chestnut brown eyes on the chaise lounge.
Lily was in absolutely no mood for this. Her husband trying to make reason of Albus's ludicrous statements, only because of all the detention he was saved as a young and troubled boy because of Albus. This infuriated her even more.
"No one loves Harry more than I—"
Lily snorted.
She wiped a tear from her face. "Except for me if you plan on justifying his death, you cowardly fool!" Lily would hold nothing back from her husband if he was to defend Dumbledore. He was a lying cow for all she knew at the moment.
James tried to remain calm, but was beginning to get antsy. "Listen," he began. "You and I have to decide if we are going to place one life over perhaps thousands. Millions. Billions, Lily! Once he has the Wizarding World, what will stop him from enslaving the muggles? This is too big to let attachments get in the way."
"Shut up!" She screamed, her cheeks blazing hotter than her hair. "You waste! The life of your son is less important to you than people you never even met! You should be ashamed!"
"Well, Lily, life is isn't fair!"
"What makes you think death will be any better!" Their screaming match had risen so loudly, that Fawkes the phoenix looked weakly at them with fright for the wands clutched in their fists. The enchanted cloak Dumbledore had on his coat rack waved itself back and forth, silently beckoning for his master to send him out of the place.
As exhausted and sleepy and oveall worn out at they both were, they were unwielding for their son. But one was for his protection, well-being, and life. The boy's mother would keep him, and ignore everyone until it was just the two of them on an isolated piece of rock and stone keeping them afloat in a sea of lava.
And yet one cared more, for reasons selfish, but in the eyes of a young man, noble reasons, to have the life snuffed out of the babe.
The wise man had his words of manipulation and malice, the glint of self-induced nobleness and bravery shining behind those aged eyes. A chance to prove to everyone he was better than most. Better than all. The death of the boy would bring the family fame, pity, and the wealth of those who wish to tell a tale.
Safety to all when Voldemort's soul is weakened and vanquished.
Safety to all but a young boy. . .
.. . . . .
Night had fallen and Harry Potter was dozing to his favorite classical tunes. Lily had put together a mixtape for him. Her young son loved Swan Lake: No. 29 Scene Finale and Requiem: Dies Irae. He would give this adorable, small little smirk, and then close his eyes with his hand clamped around Ronny the Monkey.
Why her son loved such strangely epic, loud, and chaotic music, Lily couldn't understand. Of course, there was a beauty to it. The same melodic beauty in all music, but it had lost the peaceful element and the joyful lull it should bring.
Especially on that particular night, the bangs and drums and pauses of suspense from the tunes on the mixtape kept Lily's hand sweaty as she stared deeply at the golden door knob of the nursery. Which, she had locked.
For the assured safety of her son, she had whisked James to sleep with a sneaky little potion and locked the door, for when he woke any minute now. . .
"LILY! GIVE ME THAT BOY!" There is was. The furious, thick, and enraged voice James, her husband. It was beginning to wear off the sleep as he pounded on the door. "I WILL GET IN WITH MAGIC! DON'T PRETEND YOU CAN HIDE! VOLDEMORT MUST BE STOPPED, LILY," He screamed, his footsteps a march in an off direction for a moment, but then returning.
"I'm sorry." His voice softened for a moment before the door blasted open, and awoke Harry from his sleep.
Looking around the room at the door, hanging on its weak hinges, James slowly began speaking to Lily, trying to become just as calm as Harry, who sat on his knees and goggled at his parents in eerie wonder. "Lily," he began, but Lily backed toward Harry. To shield him from his own father. "Don't make us fight. I don't want to fight you. . . Just think of all the people that Snivellus and Malfoy are killing without a second thought."
Lily snorted. "Of course, James. And I'll make sure to add Harry to that list as well." Her wand was out, hidden behind her back to strike at any given moment.
And when Lily saw the words Accio Crib forming quickly on James's soft lips, she wasted no time and pointed the wand squarely at his chest, wincing with a touch of regret as she cast the spell.
"Flipendo!" With a third-year level jinx, Lily cast on James to fly backward with a pulsing wave of energy, him lying on the floor, groaning and moaning in aches as Lily quickly wrapped Harry up in a baby blue blanket and magically attached him to a broom oversized for the small little boy. Edging fast towards the open and windy window, Lily held Harry in the air as James got on his feet.
He shot multiple blasts at Lily, bright, offensive, desperate glowing orbs of brown and deep orange. She felt the heat of them pass by her as she dodged and twisted to get out of their harmful way. And alas, she was not harmed in any terrible way or simple one. She let out a yelp though, with one hollow, somber scream, as her balance vanished, and she tumbled down.
Down.
Down.
. . . . . .
By far, the most frightening and horrifying and miserable thing to happen to happen to Lily in a while was that. Partially because she was falling from a two story building to the rocks and gravel path beneath her, and also partially because she was just an inch from Harry and the broom that floated down with her, offering assistance, but too careful moving to handle the violent tilt without breaking little Harry's bones.
The ground was coming closer and time was gracefully sparing her, slowing itself. Either to make the pain drawn out or to give her more time to figure out a solution.
"Levicorpius!" Spurring quickly, she reenacted a spell her once-close friend had shown her. She stopped falling and summoned enough energy from her breathless body to grasp the broom with her rough hands and reverse the spell, falling gently onto the wooden stick, gasping for air and circling her surroundings.
She was. . . in the air. . . with Harry. . .
James wouldn't be able to get her because they only had enough money for one broom. With a cheerful giggle, she kissed Harry's forehead as the baby began to close his eyes, he feel asleep on her stomach as they floated away from that nightmare household.
"We'll be OK. . ." She whispered and glided farther and farther towards a place where her own husband and the rest of the insensible people that plagued her life couldn't find her and her son.
. . . . . .
The sounds of leaves bristling and twigs snapping played on repeat to Lily. She didn't know if it was real or if it was something in her own mind, but with her back to the deepest end of the forest, she couldn't even get a wink of sleep.
Harry was sleeping soundly on top of her, his perfect small body's chest rising and falling as his breaths left his body and sailed back in.
As she was beginning to try and convince herself that the twig-snapping and leave-brushing sounds were just paranoia. But then, she heard her name come from a weak and exhausted man.
"Lily. . . Lily. . ." James called after her, stumbling forward to face Lily. Oh, and the sight that greeted her was nothing short of horrifying.
His nose was swollen and purplish red, crooked and broken by force. His cheeks were scraped and charcoal red, as if he had been dragged through the very own gravel of their home. . . and his hands. . . covered in welts and bruises and long, deep, red cuts that bleed profusely as he wept in front of her, rushing forward to kiss her just once more before being pulled harshly back by a cruel Bellatrix LeStrange and snarled at by Antonin Dolohov.
Immediately, the tears came to Lily.
All of her plotting and deep planning and running to escape this and more; the imprisonment and torture of her husband, no doubt leading to not only his death but hers. And. . . the death of Harry.
She was too tired to fight back.
Too surrounded.
With dignity, she planned to die, and without handing her son to the Dark Lord.
"The mudblood is alive, well, well," Voldemort swirled, almost towards her, his beading red eyes and swirling towards her. "And with the filthy, half-breed baby. Ugh, it's almost too much." In his dark cloak, he reached down and snatched Harry from Lily, drawing a wail from the young woman.
He cackled. "Should I kill you husband or your child first? Asist me, my followers. . ." Some howled for James Potter, already too weak to defend himself, and some asked for the child, a small, pitiful creature. It was a jumble of hate and unwanted taunts that burned and seethed loudly in Lily and James's ears.
"Not. . ." She whispered. "Not Harry. . ." Try as she might, Voldemort looked at her hatefully and, "crucio."
Pain like hellfire, seething, twisting, boiling inside of her, making the young woman writhe and scream in absolute anguish. This total terror of her mind and body continued for a solid nine seconds, and all the while, Harry and James weakly tried to escape their bond to find a way to help her. His wife, and his mother.
Again, the Dark Lord cackled, his laughs a deep whip against her spine. "James Potter here was just telling me how he would exchange little Harry's life for your and his safety. . . how predictable. . . the little boy influenced so much by Dumbledore, that crooked little man, into giving up his own son!" He clipped his tongue. "I don't agree with your policy, James Potter. . . Avada Kedrava!" A blazing strike of cackling green light hit James blindingly sudden, knocking him to the edge of the stream, his eyes open and dead.
"J-James. . .James!" Lily ran to him faster than she knew her weak body could carry her. Over his still body she wept and sobbed and spilled her tears, unknowing of the almost pitiful look he shot her way for a simple moment.
At this very moment, the killing curse formed on his lips. His followers might've thought this was another act of cold blood. Another killing of those beneath him. But what only Voldemort dared to know was that this was pity. A pity that moved him to end the woman's life before she suffered more.
The last thing she looked at before the curse hit her chest was her baby Harry. The eerie sadness in his bottle green was all too familiar of his wife.
Someone collapsed behind all the rows of black robes.
Voldemort held Harry who did not cry. Did not jiggle to get out of the arms of this dark creature. Who looked at Voldemort instead with a calm and amused look, his bottle green eyes illuminating the sky. The warlock knew there was great power behind those eyes. A great promise. A great future. This boy was too be powerful.
The pity Voldemort once held for Lily Potter evaporated as he remembered her husband's cowardice. His absolute willingness to give this boy's life.
"Do not worry, Harry Potter," he brought the babe up to the light. "You will not be weak." The howls of the night engulfed them as they vanished away.
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Thank you for reading! I hope to have the first actual "chapter" up in a week or two. Review, Favorite, and Follow! Thanks!