In the Moonless Night
On a cloudless night the tiny village of Godric's Hollow slept. All except for a cottage on the outskirts. There was a light at the window. A light, in the darkness.
But now a shadow loomed. A shadow with demonic red eyes, brandishing a yew wand. A wand of death. Walking up to the door of the cottage, he flicked the wand and the door flew open to reveal the shocked face of a bespectacled man with messy black hair, whose eyes widened with fear and shock.
"Potter," hissed the intruder, "you should have known it was only a matter of time. You cannot hide from Lord Voldemort."
"Lily!" the man yelled, "take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off."
There was a gasp and a patter of footsteps as a woman with long red hair disappeared up a flight of stairs.
"It is pointless, Potter. I have disabled all Portkeys and thrown up Anti-Apparation Wards. You will die."
Potter raised his smaller wand. "Stupefy!" A jet of light flew out the end of Potter's wand at the cloaked figure he waved his own stick, and the spell bounced harmlessly off the ethereal blue shield Voldemort had conjured.
"A Stunner, Potter? One would think you had more skill than that… Discerpo!" A slender beam of light shot out of his wand, enlarging as it went. Potter barked, "Protego!" but it was too late to stop the entire spell as the powerful Severing Curse cut through the shield and hit Potter in the gut. He was knocked back into the wall.
The man laughed a high, cold, ruthless laugh. "Crucio," he hissed. The air was filled with the sound of the Potter's screams as he convulsed and rolled along the ground. Finally, Voldemort raised his wand. "I grow tired of this, Potter."
"Avada Kedavra!"
A jet of green light struck the writhing man. He stiffened before he fell back to the floor, his eyes wide open and glassy, dead. The high, cold laugh of the snake-like man filled the room once more.
Lord Voldemort stepped over the body of James Potter and softly crept up the stairs. He strode down the hallway until he reached a small room across from the main bedroom. Inside, a terrified young woman desperately held a crying baby, who she had taken from his crib.
Lily Potter, her mane of coppery hair cascading down her shoulders and her green eyes wide and her freckled face set in lines of determination, stared down Lord Voldemort as few have done. But as Voldemort stalked forward, wand extended, her defiance gave way to desperation and fear. She clutched the baby tighter to herself.
"Please, not Harry…Have mercy, have mercy," she pleaded.
"Stand aside silly girl, stand aside."
He was so close to fulfilling the Prophecy.
"No, not Harry, please, take me instead!" the woman pleaded again. The baby, a small child with a shock of jet-black hair and his mother's green eyes, wailed in Lily's arms. She clutched him tighter, shielding him from the monster.
Lord Voldemort let out a hiss. "Then die, Mudblood. Avada Kedavra!"
The jet of green light connected with Lily, and she fell to the ground, her green eyes glassy and lifeless. Her baby wailed at the sudden loss of his mother. Had Voldemort been paying attention, he might have noticed the red sheen that was covering both mother and child.
Taking aim at the boy's forehead, he hissed, "Avada Kedavra!"
For the third time on this awful night, a jet of green light shot out of Voldemort's wand. But instead of connecting and wiping the life from the infant, the green light hit the red aura surrounding the baby, which flashed white. Lord Voldemort had nary a second before the curse flashed back at him. He felt utter agony as his dark spirit was torn from its warped physical form.
And in the wreckage of the burning cottage, a baby, forehead now adorned with a lighting shaped scar, wailed for his dead parents.
00O00
Minutes later, a lady appeared on the outskirts of the cottage. She moved with the grace of a panther. Her brown eyes had the hardness of steel. Her fiery hair was tied back in a ponytail.
But was remarkable about her was that her face was like a mask – bright green and shiny, with thick, waxy features. In the magical world, this was a sign of a witch who had suffered great injury from a curse and been disfigured. Her mouth stretched open slowly as her rubbery, green face showed the horror of the realisation that she had failed.
She was dead. Her best and most beloved schoolfriend was dead.
Along with her husband, James, and her son, Harry, Lilly Evans Potter was dead. It was almost too much. It wasn't fair. First her parents and infant brother, then her husband, and now...
A sound pierced the air, the last sound she expected to hear.
A baby's cry.
Harry.
She raced in through the open door, and stopped as she saw the dead body of James Potter, blood no longer flowing from his wound, his eyes glassy; dead. But the crying was growing louder, as were the flames that had enveloped the small cottage. Without second thought, she raced up the stairs and into little Harry's room.
Powerful magic permeated the air, magic that stank of Darkness and was only associated with the Darkest of the Unforgivables; a curse that was feared by all decent folk. A curse that left no trace.
Avada Kedavra.
Yet there was something else in this small room, the walls blown out, what was left of the ceiling blackened and charred. She felt her eyes burn with tears and an overwhelming nausea threaten to overtake her. She forced her eyes to look at the body.
Lilly Evans Potter lay on the floor next to the cradle, her eyes dull and glassy, Voldemort's final victim. Her dark red hair was spread out behind her like a halo. Her arms were wrapped around the source of the noise that had summoned her here, a small infant with his mother's green eyes and father's jet-black hair. There was a thin cut on his forehead, shaped like a bolt of lightening... A burning ceiling rafter fell, and she knew she had to leave.
Gathering Harry gently into her arms, she turned to go, but then realized what Dumbledore and the Order would assume if Harry had vanished without a trace. So she summoned a parchment and quill, and wrote quickly:
To any who may find this,
Harry survived the Evil One's Killing Curse. I've taken him with me, to raise on my own. Do not attempt to follow me.
M. M.
Hurriedly , she placed the parchment underneath Lily's left arm, when lay across her chest. Then she leaned her green face close to her friend and kissed the freckled cheek one last time as tears splashed from the eyeholes in her mask of a face and into Lily's unseeing eyes. The tears trickled from Lily's eyes, giving the impression that her dead friend was crying too. Sobbing, she ran downstairs and cleared the Apparition wards. Harry was sound asleep in her arms. Poor little thing. She ran outside, and with a final glimpse of the burning house, she vanished.
00O00
Merely seconds later, another noise resounded around the area, and a young wizard with casually elegant shoulder length hair appeared on a flashy motorcycle. The engine revved loudly as he brought dismounted. He took once glance at the sight before him and broke down, falling to his knees. For he didn't even need to see the bodies to know that his two best friends were dead. They had failed.
Peter.
Wormtail had betrayed them, he knew that now. And it was Sirius's fault – it had been his idea to switch at the last moment. He'd been there, where Peter was hiding. The building was empty, but there was no sign of a struggle. He hadn't been captured; he had gone to his master.
He had delivered them right into Voldemort's hands.
And he would pay.
Oh, yes, he would pay for this.
A CRACK resounded through the air, and Sirius Orion Black spun around, wand drawn. But he lowered it at the sight of a massive man with shaggy black-hair and beard. The giant looked harmless at the moment though; he was crying like a small boy.
Sirius couldn't get it through his head that he would never see James or Lily again. My god, I thought it was Remus. God, it's my fault they are dead! I as good as killed them!
Through his choked sobs, Sirius felt Rubeus Hagrid walk over to him and place a massive hand on his shoulder. "S'gonna be alright Sirius," he mumbled. Suddenly, he removed the hand. "Sirius? Have you looked for Harry? He's probably…you know, but…"
As if scalded, Sirius ran into the house, clearing the way with a quick Aguamenti charm. He ran through the front door and froze when he saw the body of his best friend. Still, he could mourn later. He hurried up the stairs towards the baby's room. The walls along the hallway were blackened and scorched, and the faint sense of powerful magic hung in the air. He found Lily dead, lying next to the baby's cradle. The cradle itself was empty, and for a moment, Sirius thought that Voldemort might have taken the child. But a piece of parchment held in place by Lily Potter's left arm caught his attention, and after gingerly retrieving it, he carefully unfolded the parchment.
He read the message and the blood drained from his face. His features changed from baffled to sudden recognition as he realized who had taken his godson. He slipped the paper into the pocket of his robes.
Picking up Lily's body, Sirius cradled her gently in his arms. He carried her downstairs. She deserved a proper wizarding funeral. He looked around the living room to see that Hagrid had already picked up James's body. He glanced at Sirius for a sign of Harry's fate, but Sirius gestured out the door. As the exited, the fire picked up in intensity, and the upper floor caved in, causing the ground floor to be enveloped in flames. They just made it out in time. Somehow, the glowing green of the Dark Mark and the flames now leaping into the sky hadn't alerted the Muggles living in the village. Though it was possible there was some residual effect from the Fidelus Charm.
Sirius gently laid Lily Potter's body next to that of her husband and ran over to Hagrid. "Hagrid, Harry's alive. But he isn't here. Read this," he said, handing the paper to the half-giant. He suddenly stiffened.
"Who's M. M., Sirius? An' where's 'Arry?"
"Do you know the Masked Maiden?"
"She was Lily's friend, wasn't she? In the Order. A Death Eater hurt 'er face."
"Yes. Hagrid, I've got something I need to do. You can have my motorcycle, I won't be needing it."
"Yes, Sirius, but wha'…"
"No time. Give Dumbledore my regards."
Sirius, hell-bent on avenging his friend's murder, apparated away to begin the hunt of his former friend. In his haste, he neglected to mention the very evidence that would prove his innocence.
00O00
Albus Dumbledore apparated to the site of the Potter's Home expecting to find it deserted. At his side was his Transfiguration Professor and deputy in the Order of the Phoenix, Minerva McGonagall. Dumbledore was a very tall wizard with long silver hair and an even longer beard. He wore gold rimmed spectacles that slightly magnified his blue eyes, eyes normally twinkling. But no more.
Beside him, McGonagall a once lovely woman, now in late middle age, with her hair in a tight bun. Tears streamed down her face.
"Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked a hint of confusion showing in his voice. "Why have you not taken Harry to his relatives?"
"Uh, Professor, 'Arry isn't there," Hagrid said nervously. He looked up to Dumbledore like a revered grandfather, and was ashamed that he had failed even though he could not be faulted.
"What do you mean, Hagrid?" McGonagall asked sharply. "He lives, does he not?"
"Yes Ma'am. Problem is, somebody got here first. Sirius and I got here second."
"Sirius Black?" McGonagall asked, shocked. "Wasn't he the Potter's Secret Keeper? What did he say?"
"HE WAS?" Hagrid roared, "I SHOULDA KILLED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!"
"Rubeus, please," Dumbledore said, weariness in his voice. "We didn't know that Sirius had adopted the ways of his benighted family. I must say I am shocked. I was fooled too. However, nothing is certain in this war. Except that Lord Voldemort has gone. For now."
"He's really dead then, Albus?" McGonagall asked, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead at last? We've won?"
"For now, Lord Voldemort is gone. However, I do not doubt that he will return some day. It may be ten years. It may be twenty. It may be fifty. But what of young Harry?"
"The traitor gave me this sir," Hagrid said roughly. "Got it off Lily's body. They're over there by the way," he said, pointing in the direction of the bodies. He handed Dumbledore the note. McGonagall hurried over and let out a gasp. "The Masked Maiden?"
"I believe she has indeed taken Harry. Where and why, I cannot say," Dumbledore said, thoughtfully. "It is obvious that she intends to keep him away from me, for whatever reason. Come now, let us bring James and Lily back to Hogwarts, and we will discuss this later."
"I got Lily, sir," Hagrid said.
"And I'll," McGonagall sniffed, "get James."
Holding gently onto the two bodies of their departed friends, the three apparated back to Hogsmeade, before hurrying up to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
00O00
The Masked Maiden and her infant cargo arrived at the gates of the ancestral home of her late husband's family. Blaine Morgan had been the only son of a very wealthy pureblood family, and the most kind and loving man that his wife, Mira, now known as the Masked Maiden, had ever known. She didn't plan to even stay the night here. She needed to get away from Dumbledore, and that meant getting out of the country.
Harry was sleeping soundly at the moment.
She kissed the baby's forehead. The wickedly thin scar - It must be from the Killing Curse. But then how was Harry still alive?
She didn't have time to ponder that now. Gently rocking him back and forth in her arms, she walked up to the front door of the estate, opened it (the wards were spelled to accept her), and was met by a picture that broke her heart all over again. Their wedding picture. It showed her as she had been, a beautiful girl with long red hair and creamy skin, with a beautiful silk wedding gown, wearing a bright smile, her arm wrapped around a gorgeous man with wavy brown hair, bright blue eyes and a freckled nose and cheeks, wearing elegant blue robes and a dazzling smile...
She was shook out of her daze by the sight of the old house-elf. The elf's face lit up when he saw her standing in the doorway.
"Mistress Mira, ma'am," the house-elf bowed low, "It is so good to be seeing you again. Who is the little one?"
"This is Harry, Pudgy. Harry Potter."
"Mistress Lily's son, Ma'am?" the house-elf asked, his eyes lighting up in excitement.
"Yes. Please take care of him while I prepare? I plan to leave England for our retreat in Canada."
"Yes, Pudgy knows how to take care of small ones. He took care of Master Blaine when he was much smaller," the house-elf said, sniffing into its tea towel shaped like a toga.
Mira felt her eyes watering, and took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears. She still couldn't believe he was really gone. It seemed only yesterday that she and her husband were discussing having a baby.
I have Harry now. I owe Lily so much, and I am going to raise her son as she would have. I am going to give him the love and affection deserving of my own child. It's the least I can do. He's already suffered so much.
Their decision happened four days before the attack.
They had come in the dead of night, when Blaine was downstairs getting a late-night meal. There had been six of them, led by the Death Eater who had murdered the Prewetts and one of Voldemort's chief lieutenants, Evan Rosier. They had ambushed Blaine, who had fought a brief duel before Dolohov had hit him with the Killing Curse. Enraged and maddened by grief, she had run down the stairs and began firing off powerful curses at random, many of them Dark. Dolohov had hit her with a deflected Sectumsempra Curse, taking off her nose. Her prosthetic face had a nose, but she had lost her real nose at that point. She had ended up decapitating Rosier with a Sectumsempra Curse, and blowing another Death Eater's head into pieces with a Blasting Hex. She had grabbed her husband's body and activated her Portkey, spiriting them far away...
She hurried up to her bedroom to pack. She needed to be gone soon, before Dumbledore could catch up with her. She waved her wand, and her necessary clothes and personal items flew into her trunk. It was easy: she already had them laid out in her mind. She knew they'd be able to access her account overseas.
She charmed the trunk to float after her, and ran back downstairs. Pudgy had baby Harry in his arms, and was rocking him gently. The baby appeared to be sleeping soundly. She wondered absently if he still needed booby milk. She might be able to make her breasts work and do that. She would do anything for Lily. As she knew Lily would have done anything for her. And saving Harry from Lily's horrible relatives, where the old Machiavelli Dumbledore, no doubt, would have sent him, was something she had to do. The only time she had met Petunia and her husband, she had instantly disliked them. Vernon was crude and distrustful of anything out of the ordinary. Petunia was a paranoid neat-freak who despised the success of her sister. No, Harry would not be doomed to life with them.
Speaking of Harry, Mira had very little she could bring for him. There were no baby clothes here. If worse came to worst, she could always make some. Yes, she had everything. She would leave Morgan Manor in the capable hands of the family house-elves.
"Pudgy, I'm taking Harry away now. We won't be back for a long, long time, my dear and faithful servant."
The house-elf looked crestfallen. "Very well, Mistress. We will take care of the house."
With a final nod to the elf, she took the baby out of his arms and pulled him gently to her chest, cuddling him close. She took out her broom, a Nimbus 1800, and tapped it once, thinking clearly of the small house in Canada, while muttering, "Portus." The broom glowed blue for a moment, then faded. An unauthorised Portkey, but the Ministry had no power in Canada. Grasping her trunk and Harry securely, she placed her hand onto the broom and felt a tug behind her navel. The world disappeared in blur of colour.
00O00
Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, and the remaining members of the Order of Phoenix stood in a loose circle in the middle of the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The house tables had been shoved to the walls, with only a circular table in its place.
The entire Order was waiting, spellbound, for Dumbledore to continue his story of the fall of Voldemort. Most simply couldn't believe that tide of the war had turned. The Death Eaters were now leaderless and it was only a matter of time before they were beaten. No more Voldemort!
Kingsley Shacklebolt, a tall black wizard with a hoop earring and shaved head, asked quietly, "How, Dumbledore? How did this happen?"
"Ah, yes, Kingsley. It seems that Lord Voldemort was undone by a baby, a baby named Harry Potter. Unfortunately, James and Lily appear to have been his final victims."
There were a number of gasps, and several ladies broke down crying. The Potters had been much loved in their circle.
"But how did this child defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" the wheezy-voiced Elphias Doge asked. "And where is the boy now?"
"I do not know, Elphias, how young Harry survived the Killing Curse."
Whispers and gasps followed this announcement.
"He survived the Killing Curse?" Arthur Weasley asked quietly.
"Yes, Arthur," Dumbledore said. "It appears that Lord Voldemort cast the curse at Harry and it failed. Voldemort is gone. As for Harry, he is safe, I hope..."
"What do you mean by that Albus?" Alastor Moody growled. "You hope…? Explain yourself."
"It appears that someone got to Godric's Hollow before we did, and took young Harry with her. It appears to have been Mira Morgan. It also appears she plans to raise him on her own. I cannot trace her. If she doesn't want to be found, she will always elude us."
00O00
The next day, Sirius prowled through the streets of London, hunting his prey. He ducked down an alleyway, his keen sense of smell zeroing in on the evil rat. He emerged from the alley, and moved into a large crowd of Muggles.
Then Sirius spotted him.
He was sneaking around, his watery eyes scanning for pursuers. Every so often he would sniff the air. Sirius's eyes narrowed, and he stalked forward. Wormtail spotted him, and his watery eyes widened in fear and shock. He raced into the alleyway for a place to transform. Sirius raced after him, and fired the first spell, an Anti-Disapparition Spell that connected with Wormtail's arm.
Wormtail stopped, pulling out his own wand, sweating now as Sirius approached.
"You lying, traitorous rogue. You rat! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS!" Sirius roared, losing his precarious self-control. He was going to kill Peter, oh yes, he was.
Wormtail cowered, and then suddenly took off again, running into the middle of a crowded street. Sirius stalked forward, damning the Statute of Secrecy. Muggles could be Obliviated, James and Lily could not be brought back to life.
He raised his wand, ready to incant a curse, and then stopped.
The rat was fumbling with something. He caught a flash of silver and realized it was a knife. Before he could call out, Wormtail cut off a finger then rubbed the bleeding wound all over his robes. Sirius raised his wand again, realizing what the rat was trying to do. He didn't see the wand that Wormtail was now fumbling with behind his back with his good hand.
"Lily and James, Sirius! How could you!" he yelled, crocodile tears leaking from his small eyes. Sirius was about to hex him into oblivion when he saw the wand tip pointing at the street. "Diffin-"
"REDUCTO!" The rodent bellowed. The Blasting Hex slammed into the street and caused a massive explosion sending Muggles flying into the air as screams broke out everywhere. The blast knocked Sirius flat, though he got up just in time to see Wormtail in rat form run into the wide, smoking crater…
His ears ringing from the blast, Sirius unsteadily got to his feet, and surveyed the scene of devastation. Muggles lay dead all around the crater. Sirius staggered, feeling sick. Like he could hardly stand. Suddenly, the air was filled with CRACKS as red-robed Aurors and orange-robed hit-wizards, along with members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad and a team of Healers appeared in the square. The AMRS immediately threw up barriers to prevent the poor, panicking Muggles from fleeing the scene.
Sirius stood in the middle of the circle. He saw the faces of several Aurors, including the iron willed Rufus Scrimgeour. Cornelius Fudge and Barty Crouch from Law Enforcement were here. Sirius could scarcely take this in. His wand hung limply by his side, and every other wand in the vicinity was pointed directly at him. He suddenly realized what this must look like, especially since everyone believed that he had been the Secret Keeper of the Potters. It appeared to everyone that he had just murdered Peter Pettigrew and those poor Muggles. He was trapped.
Scrimgeour stepped forward, wand still pointed at Sirius's heart. "Put the wand down, Black. It's over," he said in icy tones.
Sirius dropped his wand to the ground, still numb from the horrific turn of events. He dumbly stared around at the angry faces of his colleagues and friends. They all believed that he was a traitor. They believed that he, like his fool brother, had joined Lord Voldemort. And now Voldemort was dead. And Sirius began to laugh maniacally at the absurdity of it all. All the while, tears of grief streamed down his face. But he couldn't stop laughing. Then Scrimgeour's stunner hit him in the chest and he passed out.