The leaves rustled softly in front of the quiet house. The large two-story sat alone in the corner of an empty street, quite far away from any neighbors. A majestic iron black gate surrounded it. Small trees shaded the house's front and a cobblestone walkway lead to the crimson front door on the large stone house. Wide windows were flickering yellow light on the inside. Everything seemed to be like it should.
But something wasn't right on this dark October night.
If you looked into the house you would see a vaulted-ceiling living room. A large rug spread across the cherry-colored wood floor. Beautiful chairs sat on each side of the rug. In the back of the room, there was a large fireplace with a mantle stretched across it. And if you were to look perhaps just a little bit closer, you would be able to see the many photographs lined up all across the mantle. Pictures of old school friends and family. Two teen-aged black-haired boys were laughing in a red-framed photo. Their arms around each other's shoulders, each grasping a broom in one hand. They were splattered in mud. A distant, green field was in the background. In another, a portrait of an elegant woman. Rich, long, deep curls, such a beautiful dark red, that fire hid its head in jealousy. A smile was on her ruby lips, leading up to her rosy cheeks on her creamy skin. Her brilliant green eyes twinkling with an unearthly light. Another picture showed that of a raven-haired man and the red-haired woman, cradling something in their arms. A small baby. There were many more like these, the biggest one was a wedding portrait. And the last one on the very end of the mantle was that of four boys, all of whom had their arms around one another, huge smiles on their faces as if they knew nothing in the world could come between them.
Memories caught in time…
The house held a warm peace, and any wandering stranger would love to sit inside just for a moment, only to feel its warmth. That's what the view was if you were to look inside the window.
It seemed perfect.
But look a little harder and maybe you'll see what's really in the house. Perhaps if you took your sleeve and wiped the fog from the cold night air off the window, you might be able to glance it…
The Fidelius Charm.
No muggle eye can see what lies beyond… and no wizard eye for that matter. But if anyone could, then you'd be able to see the worried man looking out the same window that you're looking in. A man worried sick because something didn't feel right. A sense of premonition was floating strongly in the air… and so, James Potter stared out onto the empty street outside the fogged window. His hazel eyes were wide in hopes of glancing something that was not supposed to be there. But nothing looked wrong.
James' wife Lily Potter had a strange feeling as well. Sitting in an armchair, a small baby boy on her lap. She held out a small coin Knut in her hand. The little boy watched as she wrung her hands together and then opened them back up with the coin no longer there. The boy giggled. It was a simple trick really. It only required a small use of wand-less magic. But what does the innocent mind of a child care? A child's imagination winds much farther than that of an adult's, and their thoughts tend to wander to much more vast and interesting areas so that no hurt or worry enters their mind… That's why Lily could feel that sense of foreboding, but her little son, Harry, couldn't.
Lily did the trick again and watched Harry's eyes twinkle with delight. How she wished she could feel like that, so care free, just for a moment. She pulled him closer and held him tightly, and the feeling seemed to fade.
Lily whispered for her husband to come away from the window. James listened but he still felt tense. He walked over to the mantle and found that he was looking at himself at the age of 12. His best friend Sirius was in the picture with him, their arms around each other's shoulders. That best friend, Sirius, was supposed to have been back half an hour ago. He only went to check on Peter Pettigrew, their secret Keeper…
"Peter?" yelled Sirius through the streets. Peter was not at the spot he was supposed to be at. Where had he gotten to? Perhaps he had gotten lost. That would be Peter… But after half an hour of searching around the area, Peter was still nowhere to be seen. Something was wrong. "James… Lily." He whispered as panic surged through his veins. He had to warn them, something must have happened to Peter. He swung a leg over his enchanted motorcycle as fast as he could, and then he took off, pushing the bikes acceleration as hard as it would go.
The Potter's house suddenly went cold, and the fire that had been blazing in the fireplace went out in a deadly hiss. Only light fumes of smoke rose up from the burned logs now. James's heart began beating harder in panic, throbbing painfully against his chest.
Thump…thump…
Suddenly a huge, blinding flash burst through all the windows in the house. Everything was lit up with a bright, green light. James ran and grabbed a hold of Lily, trying to shield her from the sudden outburst of strange light; Harry was still in his mother's arms. He began to cry, and with every tearful sob he made, James's heartbeat grew even more fierce. "Lily!"
Thump…THUMP …
It grew to the point where Sirius was beginning to feel extremely panicked now; his limbs were shaking in fear. Something bad was about to happen… Something really bad. He was getting closer to Godric's Hollow… he could feel it…
James and Lily looked out the window, and what they saw made James's mouth go slack and Lily let out a gasp of fright. Clutching Harry ever tighter, she backed up, shaking her head, a silent tear slipping down her face. The reflection of the dark mark was shining in James's wide eyes. "Lily, run."
"No!" She screamed. "I won't leave you!" She ran back to his side. The one arm that wasn't holding Harry grasped James's sleeve in a sense of plea.
"Lily, you have to. Take Harry and go!" He yelled as he grasped her shoulders. "Now! Go!"
"Please, James… please…" She sobbed, begging for him to come with her. But James would not. "Lily, take Harry and run. Please. For me… For him…"
"James…" She begged.
"Lock yourselves in the spare bedroom until Dumbledore or an Order member arrives." He whispered. He knew if he could get them in a safe place that Albus Dumbledore would come for them. He always did…
"James…Don't make me do this…" Lily shakily whispered.
She searched his face for some sign, some reassuring sign that would tell her he would eventually give in. But there was no sign, no reassurance. There wasn't anything. "Please…Let's get out of here, let's run-".
"We can't, Lily, Voldemort's smart, he'll have the whole house surrounded by now."
"But-but the Fidelus charm…"
"They know, Lily. I don't know how, but they know. Do you hear me? They know we're in here! You have to run!"
Lily gazed deeply at him, thinking as hard as she could for some kind of retaliation, some verbal defense to make him change his mind, to give her a different answer. But when she couldn't think of anything, she hung her head down in defeat.
"Lily, I'll see you again. I promise."
James pulled her in and held her against him. The scared pound of his heart was beating against her, just as someone outside began to turn the front door handle…
Thump… THUMP!
"James!" Sirius called again. Everything that he passed seemed to go by in a blur. It seemed as though no matter how fast he tried to go, everything else seemed to be in slow motion.
James embraced Lily in one last kiss that would have lasted an eternity if the door hadn't burst open in a blast of red light.
"GO NOW!" James cried desperately. One of Harry's little hands had grabbed on to his father's robes as his mother had hugged him. James loosened Harry's grasp and Harry clutched on to James's hand instead, and suddenly James didn't want to let go of the little boy he loved so much. But as a spell shot past his ear and all the windows began to shatter, pouring in more green light, Lily began to run, And Harry's little fingers slipped away off his dad's hand. Lily ran halfway down the hall and then turned and looked at him, a sense of longing upon her face.
"Everything will be okay." He whispered.
Lily slowly nodded as tears poured down her face. He heard her sob as she turned and disappeared in a blanket of green light that was pouring in from the hallway window that was now lying in pieces. James stared after them, his hand still outstretched as though hoping there was some possible way his son would come back to him and grasp it again. The shock of knowing he wouldn't, made James's torn heart pound loudly in his ears…
Thump… THUMP!
Sirius was sure he was not far at all from Godric's Hollow now…
A tall, hooded figure walked through the doorway where the door had just been. James furrowed his eyebrows and pulled out his wand.
"Potter," He whispered in a deadly tone. "Three times you have faced me. But I guarantee you… tonight will be your last." James could tell by the tone of the dark Lord's voice that he had been waiting for this.
Spells shot in every direction as Lord Voldemort and James Potter battled into the night. Green light was still pouring in through every gap in the house from the dark mark and tables, furniture; everything was blasting to pieces around them as they tried to hit each other. James had never been filled with more rage in his life. He would never let such evil inflict his family. He would not let them die. For without them, there would no longer be a point in living. He knew that. He fought as hard as he could. And for a brief moment, he thought he was winning. He thought he would triumph. The Dark Lord did seem to look a little taken back at James's strength. And then, one of Voldemort's spells shot through the debris and hit James squarely in the chest. He let out a gasp of pain, his heart beat dulling.
Thump…thump…
"James!" Sirius yelled as he began to near the road that would lead to Godric's Hollow.
James raised his wand in defense and opened his mouth to shout a spell. But too late- another spell shot at him and his wand slipped through his fingers as he fell to his knees. Another spell whizzed past his ear and struck the mantle behind him, the picture frames that had been on the mantle burst around him as a knelt there in pain, gasping for air. The glass shattered everywhere, some of the pieces striking him. He watched the pictures that had once been in those frames, flutter to the floor as a small trickle of blood began to run down from the corner of his mouth. More footsteps… Voldemort was coming in closer through the debris. Another flash of light from a spell that once again barely missed him and struck the rug instead. It slowly began to catch on fire. James tried to focus his eyes as he watched the old photos begin to catch fire as well. The corners of them began to whither and turn black. Their once fine edges were smoking and curling up. And James watched as all those memories of him and his wife and his son turned into ashes before him. Another one that began to crinkle into ashes was that of his best friend, Sirius. He watched as his friend's face blackened and disappeared into nothing as well. The smoke that was beginning to inhabit the house choked James's lungs. But the real panic didn't seem to set in until he saw the picture of his son and Lily become smashed underneath the foot of Lord Voldemort as he walked through the smoke and looked down at James with a cruel smile on his face. His eyes were glinting maliciously as he pointed his wand down at James. James slowly rose to his feet, clutching his side as it gave a sharp pain. Stumbling slightly, he managed to balance himself. And with every bit of dignity he could muster, he stared right back into the Dark Lord's murderous face. His wand was lost in the now rising fire behind the Dark Lord. He was going to die. He knew it. He had known it from the moment he had kissed Lily. For her it had been a sign of hope. For him, it had been a way of saying goodbye.
He stood upright and proud. He had fought as hard and as best as he could, and now he could fight no more. His strength was gone. His will was fading. The only thing that was holding up his weak body at the moment was the thought of his wife and son. He wanted to kill Voldemort, to rip him into pieces for all he had ever done to them. As his hands began to shake. The Dark Lord was slowly advancing towards him. James stumbled back towards the destroyed kitchen. Everything that had been in the cupboards and drawers were strewn everywhere. James searched around frantically for something, anything that he could use to rip that evil smirk off the Dark Lord's face. James's side gave a painful lurch as he dove for a kitchen-cutting knife on the floor and drove in down, plunging it straight into Voldemort's chest. But the Dark Lord didn't show a pained expression on his face, it didn't even seem to have hurt him. The Dark Lord's murderous eyes shone blood red as he gave an amused smile. Voldemort slowly pulled it out, and his lipless mouth curled into a foul smirk. He examined the bloodless knife for a moment before whispering, "pathetic Muggle toy." He gazed amusingly at James.
It was then that James realized that Lord Voldemort had no heart… He wasn't human. He was a mass of evil. A being that was only alive because he fed off the flesh of others. He was a monster. A walking corpse of bloodless flesh. The only thing that could possibly have been running through his veins was darkness. The Dark Lord raised the knife and struck in down…
Thump…THUMP…
…Right into James's stomach…
Thump…thump…
Sirius saw the street ahead, the street that lead to the road of Godric's Hollow.
James gasped painfully, but still gazed at the Dark Lord with his eyebrows furrowed in hatred. He could tell from the small hint of surprise that reached Voldemort's face that he had expected James to fall down in pain already. But he didn't. He instead grasped the blade and slid it out, never tearing his glaring eyes away from that horrendous face of evil. He felt his own blood spilling over his hands, and his anguished pulse throbbed in his ears.
Thump… … thump…
James winced in pain but stood upright. Bright flashes kept appearing in front of his eyes. And with every flash he could make out Lily's face clearer and clearer, until he could see her smile. That image was the only thing numbing his pain.
The Dark Lord's smirk slowly vanished, He stared hard at James. "Give me your son." He finally said in a tone suggesting that his fun of toying with James was over. He was dead serious now, and growing impatient.
But James ignored the painful spill of blood that was issuing from his stomach and stood up straight. FLASH! There was Lily's face again… FLASH! And now there was Harry's… And suddenly his weakness was gone. He didn't stumble… he didn't wince or shudder. He just stood straight and looked at the Dark Lord with every fiber of hatred he was capable of.
"Never." He whispered strongly, "I'd die a thousand deaths before I'd hand over my son to you!"
The Dark Lord grimaced angrily at these words. It seemed to be taking him all of his self-control to not grab James by the throat and throw him into the flames that were beginning to surround them. "You mark my words, Potter. I will get your son… and I'll make sure he dies just as painfully as you're about too. Tell me where he is now and I'll consider making it quick."
But James showed no sign of wavering. He would never let him kill Harry. Not his son. Not ever. "Burn in Hell!" He yelled furiously.
The Dark Lord seized James around the throat angrily and raised his wand.
FLASH! The images in front of James's eyes were changing now. There was Lily; she was speaking to him, though he couldn't hear her voice. FLASH! He was holding Harry in his arms.
"James!" yelled Sirius. He was almost to the house… he could make it… he had to…
FLASH! James was kissing Lily out on a Quidditch pitch.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" A mass of green light…
FLASH! He was holding Lily in his arms… for the last time. He held her tight until he felt her memory fade as he fell deep, deep into the surrounding darkness.
Sirius was practically there, he began to slow down. There were far too many trees to give him a place to land. He let his bike's wheels skim the ground before jumping off onto the gravel road and running into the mass of trees.
… … …
Lord Voldemort stepped over James Potter's dead body and walked down the hall. Some pieces of the ceiling began to catch the lick of the growing flames and fall down behind him as he walked. Voldemort smiled and blasted open the first door on his right. Empty. He blasted the door on the left… but it was empty as well.
Lily could hear the loud blast of doors being destroyed growing nearer. Then it went quiet. She stared at her door, waiting, knowing that any minute her door would shatter before her… and it would all end.
A red light erupted through all the cracks around the door until it burst and pieces of its wood shot everywhere around the room. Lily screamed.
Sirius heard it. His senses perked back to life and his aching side stitch no longer seemed to throb. Was it just his imagination or was there smoke rising from the house? His heart seemed to be tightening within his chest.
"Give me the child, and you won't end up like your pathetic husband." Whispered the Dark Lord.
But for that short moment, Lily didn't feel threatened by him. Even though she had encountered him before and her gut was telling her that this was going to be her last encounter. It almost felt like relief. The sound of the house nearing its demise in the roar of the flames grew faint until she could hear nothing but the gentle pound of her heart. She no longer took any notice to the Dark Lord's cold gaze upon; she felt this strange numbness as she held her baby in her arms. His warm touch was so comforting it helped block out the madness raging on the outside of her mind. It helped her stay safe in her memories, in the soft, caring hands of things that she had once known as happiness.
She could sense the Dark Lord speaking to her again, telling her to give up her baby… to give up her Harry. But she held him tighter to her, his warmth and innocence engulfing her to the point where even her solemn tears felt too warm to be real.
But reality was waiting for her; she couldn't hide in her deep, silent reverie forever. She looked back into those hateful eyes and whispered, "never."
"You'll pay for your foolishness." Voldemort hissed.
So, it was foolishness, was it? He could call it whatever he liked, but Lily knew the truth. Voldemort may call it foolishness, but only because he couldn't bear to say what it truly was: love.
Lily Put Harry down and stood in front of him, shielding him, standing tall. But Lily suddenly didn't feel as confident as she had moments before. As soon as she had put her son down, the strong walls of her inner sanctuary came crashing down. The tears of fear falling down her cheeks felt icy cold once more and the sound of the surrounding destruction growled triumphantly in her ears.
"Foolish girl… you've caused your own demise." Lord Voldemort raised his wand.
Her legs were still shaking at the thought of James lying dead somewhere in another room. She could imagine the feel of his cold hands and the sight of his empty eyes and she fought the urge to collapse and clutch Harry in sobs of agony. But then she thought of Harry. And with every thought of him her legs grew stronger and so did her will. She would so anything to protect him. Lily had spent all of her life running from her demise and she could run no more. She furrowed her eyebrows in anger at the Dark Lord. She would suffer a thousand deaths if it meant Harry could breathe another day, live for another moment. She guarded her son and faced the end of Voldemort's wand with tear of anger and stance of pride, and in doing so, she faced her ultimate end. An end she would never regret, because it meant Harry could live.
There was a burst of green light and a heavy thud as a body made impact with the floor. The Dark Lord gazed at the pale skin of the woman he killed. Her blank stare, cold ruby lips and one final tear escaping down her pale cheek. It was almost a pity that such flawless beauty had to go to waste. But it was her fault. What more foolish act could he expect from a mudblood?
Lord Voldemort looked down upon a whimpering Harry and whispered two deadly words.
Suddenly, a powerful force flooded through the house. The few windows that had remained whole suddenly burst into shards in all directions and an invisible energy swept through the house destroying everything that remained standing.
The Dark Lord clawed at his face but it didn't stop the excruciating pain that was coursing through him, making him feel as though the skin was being ripped right off his bones. It was a pain such as he had never felt. He felt like his burning eyes where about to catch fire and every bone in his body cracked unpleasantly. A terrible throbbing was pulsing in his head and the feeling of thousands of knives being twisted within him carried up his back until he could take it no more, until the world became a blur. His energy drained and he became as little as a feeble spirit wandering the earth. His disappearance would convince many people he was dead. But he would still be there, manipulating weak minds. As long as hatred existed in the hearts of man he would be alive, feeding off them, until he could find a way to restore his body. Waiting for another chance…
Sirius stopped dead in the road. The once fine home was in pieces. Its warm comfort was gone. The many windows that once showed the peace and happiness within the house had all been shattered. A cold chill had taken its place. And the soft rustle of leaves replaced the sound of laughter. The magnificent place was now lying dead against the black night sky. Even the stars seemed to have retreated in fear, the only bit of feeble light that stayed to shine upon the wreckage was the diminishing, green glow of a skull with a snake protruding from it's mouth.
The sign reading "Godric's Hollow" blew in the gentle breeze of gliding debris, making it give off the sound of distant creaking and moaning. Sirius slowly walked toward the ruins. His heart pounding so lightly he feared it would stop. It was so hard to breathe all the sudden. His feet crunched down on glass shards and pieces of wood that covered the remains of broken vases and glass china and many other items that were now lying to rest under the house's fallen walls and broken roof. Sirius was hoping with everything within in him that he wouldn't find what he was looking for. A small feeling in the back of his mind was trying to convince him that he was wrong. That they had escaped… that they weren't here. But the sight of Sirius's best friends emotionless face burned that last hope. Sirius couldn't speak, he could barely move. He dropped to his knees next to his best friend's side dying to scream in agony to green skull in the sky that was fading into the night.
When the ministry of magic discovered the scene, Sirius had fled and the Potter's child had been taken away to safety. What would become of the boy? One day some unfortunate person would have to tell him what had happened. Someone would have to tell him that his parents were murdered and every evidence of their lives had been destroyed with his home. There would be no keepsakes to send him, no possessions to be passed down. He would get nothing from them but a small fortune and a scar. One day someone will have to tell him the horrible scene that had been witnessed. The sight of Lily and James's limp bodies being pulled from the wreckage. The screams of neighbors and the anguished sobs from friends. And then someone will have to tell him that all this horror had been caused out of love. Love for him. I just hope that person won't have to be me. He's so small now; he doesn't understand that they're gone. But he will eventually. Soon he'll begin to feel the absence of his mother's touch. He'll miss it until he grows up and forgets it completely. He'll lose the memory of his father's voice slowly, day by day, until every word; every syllable he ever recalled from his father… is gone. He won't have a memory of a home to think of when he feels lost. Or some remnant of them to look at when he thinks he's alone. That is the fate of the young Potter boy.
Why am I telling you this? As a ministry official I'm supposed to keep these 'murder files' dead silent. But this was so much more than just a killing. I'll never forget the sight of Lily Potter's pale face as fellow ministry representatives pulled her from the rubble. The sight of her luscious red hair fallen over her dim green eyes was more than I could stand. Nor will I forget the pain of overhearing that when James Potter's body had been recovered he was clutching a singed picture of his family in his hand. And no one else should forget either. People need to know what happens when you step foot in God's territory… when you try to defy fate. Why? Not to show that it caused death, but to show the sacrifice. Lily and James didn't die without a purpose and a will. They threw out their lives blindly not even sure if it would make a difference. But in doing so they saved a life, even if they'll never know it.
To those who are reading this, you know was well as I that a second war is upon us. But who will be willing to fight like the Potter's? Who will sacrifice not knowing if their death will change anything? I can only hope that my fellow Witches and Wizards will forget their blood types to fight together; purebloods, half bloods, muggleborns, and maybe even muggles themselves. I hope when the end comes we will be able to let out sighs of relief in knowing that we fought our best, win or lose. That is why I'm telling you the tragic demise of the Potter's, so that you will understand, like them, that to save the ones you love sacrifices must be made.
I hope their story has opened your eyes. Maybe then you will see that there are things worth dying for.
END