31st October 1981
"The P-P-P-Potters live at G-G-Godric's H-H-Hollow." Pettigrew said, and before me a house appeared, a cottage of sorts, quaint, neat, familiar in the way a family's cottage would be. Up from the ground sprouted the beams, and they parted for the walls, the roof unfolded and the gardens sprang to life. Finally a little white fence popped up like they do in children's story books, the gate unlocked and inviting. The secret had been shared.
"Betrayal, Peter is something you need to be brave to do," I said to one of my two companions, "Because when your friends learn of what you've done tonight, they will come to kill you."
"I a-a-am loyal to you m-m-my lord." Pettigrew muttered miserably.
"I do not care for your loyalty, Pettigrew." I said, "Who are you more frightened of?" I asked him, the boy squeaked, as only a man as slimy and cowardly as he could do and I already knew my answer, his fear was of me, and his loyalty secure.
"You can leave, Peter," I tell him and he bows, and bows, and grovels then disappears with a crack and I turn to my other companion.
"Severus." I state, waiting by the open gate. "Would you like to come with me?" I ask him and he pauses. "You have the option to wait here," I assure him and he nods.
"Thank you, my lord." He says, standing at attention, stubborn, not moving. I smile.
"Suit yourself, Severus." And with that I walk through the gate, it banged loudly back on itself. I walk up the path thinking of what this night will mean. The Bones were already dead, I saw to that myself prior to tonight, but their daughter, born at the end of June wouldn't be the prophesied child. The Longbottoms and the Potters after tonight will be dead, tomorrow we take the ministry and then my rule over the wizarding world will begin - the only one who is left will be Dumbeldore, but even he cannot stand before the heir of Slytherin and seven Horcruxes and triumph.
With a flick of my wand I unlock the door to the house and it swings open to reveal a bright, neat hall and the young Mr. James Potter staring at me, pure disbelief on his face - his worst nightmare come to say hello. He throws himself in front of me, as though his physical presence is enough to stop me and I wonder at this behavior until I realise he has forgotten his wand.
I smile, raising my own.
"Lily! Lily he's here, take Harry and go, go!" Mr. Potter screams through the house, I hear a desperate wail and footsteps on the stairs, she's running away, but no matter, I know the woman is trapped.
"Mr. James Potter," I state, holding the boy at wand point. "You knew that you were marked for death and you'd wander around without a wand?"
"We were safe," He said, eyes flicking into the next room where his wand was sitting uselessly on the dresser.
"Your friend Peter betrayed you to me, I applaud your selection, Mr. Potter there is no doubt in my mind the noble Mr. Black would have taken the secret to his grave. But Peter, a boy easily frightened is a boy with no secrets." I say, much to the man's disbelief, his guilt, he was silent, which surprised me, most cried and begged and groveled when they were faced with Lord Voldemort. He stayed silent, so I continued. "And Mr. Severus Snape, who was so kind to share the Prophecy which marked you for death in the first place." I added, and Severus' name stirred anger in the man, I continued, "It was on his advice that I'll be murdering your infant son, Mr. Potter, may I call you James?" I asked, now gleeful at the furious expression he wore. "But Severus has asked for your wife, as his reward. I've no taste for mudbloods myself but why would I refuse a simple wish of a valuable servant. What do you think, James?" I asked him, taunted him.
It was enough, the anger felt by James Potter got the better of him and he thought to try to attack me the muggle way - a physical assault, to which I countered with the killing curse and the body of James Potter was thrown broken into the wall with his own furious momentum, there was a crack from the body, as though something had broken. "But no one needs anything from you, James." I say to the body, even though it is now a husk and a shell and will not reply.
I climb the stairs and hear crying and banging. A blasting hex clears the blockade the mudblood woman had created for me and she was caught by the splintered wood of what must have been the wardrobe. The baby was crying in its bed.
"Mrs Potter," I greet her, healing her wounds with an absent wave of my wand, she grips hers tighter and attempts to cast, insignificant spells of insignificant power which are easily swept aside and forgotten, I remove her wand from her with little resistance. "Or, perhaps Mr. Potter's widow?" I ask, and I can see that last little bit of hope fade - she'd really thought her unarmed husband might have stood a chance against me. This notion was humorous.
"Please," She whispered, "Please have mercy, don't kill him, he's just a little baby, take me, please, take me."
I hold up a hand to silence her.
"Mrs Potter," I say, "I have been asked by one of my dearest friends to show you mercy and I intend to. I will offer you a place in our ranks, the title of Pureblood, the hand of Severus Snape and a safe and happy life in exchange for the life of the infant. You will give me your baby's life and I will give you yours." I say, she looks rather ill, if I'm honest. I was never very good at determining what people were thinking or feeling or why - I'd often had a good enough guess, a key to manipulating others, but I could not guess what would be going through the woman's mind. I myself would never love a small child how she might have, nor had I had anyone care for me as a small child. I would never be so frightened of someone else, because I am the most fared dark wizard in all of Britain. I never could relate to my victims, except perhaps my father, whom I hated as much as he hated me.
"No, never," She whispers, her answer to my offer, much as I'd suspected, and I don't need to try to convince her, or bother about hearing anything else she might say, I have upheld my promise to Severus, and then Mrs Potter is dead in a flash of green light.
Now it was time to silence the baby, who'd began to cry in earnest upon the death of its mother. It reminded me too much of where I grew up, the screaming and crying children, the grating loudness of a baby's cry. Prophecy aside, I just wanted silence and took little time or effort in killing the child, a gesture with my wand and the familliar words, a flash of green light.
This is where things became much less mundane for me. I remember the colour green, the colour of Slytherin's banner enveloping me, in a way the colour tinted my vision, I saw the baby, its eyes staring at where my body is or was pass out as a light carved a mark on its forehead, and then the infant fell asleep - alive, and otherwise unhurt I assure you.
For a fleeting moment I had thought I died, the thought in itself was terrifying, but then there was immeasurable, undoing pain, similar to the pain of making a horcrux but tenfold and wrong, I felt as though the part of my soul destined for Hufflepuff's cup was lost, then the pain dulled, and didn't stop and I was left wrecked and weak in the rubble of the Potter's house. I reached out and found small, delicate and weak, sickly hands on the ends of equally wrong arms. I was a monster, reduced to some pathetically deathly creature and I crawled under the infants bed, dragging my wand with me though I hadn't the strength to lift it.
I saw Severus run into the room and mourn his lost mudblood, look for me briefly, he liberated Hufflepuffs cup from the ground and left, and then I had to turn my attention to getting away from this place, the baby had woken and was crying. And soon Order of the Phoenix members would be here, perhaps even Dumbledore himself.
