The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches

Born to those who have thrice defied him

Born as the seventh month dies...

/*May, 1980 *\

Severus Snape knelt before him, his greasy hair a curtain that masked his face. The urge to curse the boy overwhelmed Voldemort, but instead he smiled and said, "It's a pity you were caught before you could hear the rest. I so would love to hear the full prophecy." Snape ducked his head, floor and hooked nose separated by a hair's breadth in a show of obeisance, and he said nothing.

"Legilimens," Voldemort whispered as he entered the boy's mind, he rifled through every thought, memory, and emotion of Snape's mission. Abruptly he pulled out of the boys head, having gathered the desired information, he left Severus a quivering lump on the ground, and turned to look upon the room of Death Eaters. "Who in the Order is expecting a child?" He asked.

"The Longbottoms, my Lord," Bellatrix answered immediately, the mention of the Auror couple was reeted with angry hisses.

"Wormtail announced the Potters pregnancy as well," announced Abraxas Malfoy.

"Yes, so he did," mused the Dark Lord, "do we know the gender of either child?"

Bellatrix was the first to respond, "no, my Lord."

"How useful the full prophecy would be to me now, Severus," said Voldemort flatly, "another failure will not be tolerated. Dismissed." The boy scrambled up to his feet and fled the room

/* October 31, 1981*\

The village of Godric's Hollow was picturesque, though the Dark Lord only barely noticed flickering light of jack-o'-lanterns and costumed Muggle children. He was entirely focused on his task as he repeated the address Wormtail had given him. Wormtail, one of the great friends of the Potters, and his loyal servant. It made Voldemort smirk to think of the betrayal.

He rounded the corner onto a quiet lane lined with hedges, behind each one stood a cozy cottage. As he thought of the address again he noticed a decent sized cottage that seemed to squeeze itself between two others, it shoved them out of the way to make room. The cottage settled as the Dark Lord strode towards it, and the first thing he noticed as he approached was the great picture window, curtains left wide open, in which he could see the Potter boy with an infant on his lap. The baby was almost a copy of the young man, much as Voldemort himself had been a near replica of his filthy Muggle father, and he could see the child laughing as the father shot puffs of colored smoke from the tip of his wand.

Had the Dark Lord been a sentimental man it might have warmed his heart, but he felt nothing more than determination to get the task over with. The child could not be allowed to live, nor James Potter. He would allow Lily Potter to live so long as she kept out of it, as he had promised Snape, but Voldemort would not hesitate to kill if she proved uncooperative.

He reached the front door, blasted it open, and stormed into the cottage. In the next room he could hear Potter yell out to his wife to take Harry before the young man ran into the front hall, wandless, behind him Lily Potter had taken the stairs to the second floor, her child small and scared in her arms.

"Avada Kedavra," hissed Voldemort, his wand aimed at James Potter's heart. The boy, just 21, was dead before his body hit the ground. The Dark Lord strode past him to the staircase, pictures of the infant child screamed and the parents scrambled to protect him, he ignored them, it was the real child he wanted.

At the top of the stairs was a small hallway with foor doors leading off, two were opened to show a bathroom and what was probably the parents' bedroom, one was shut and dark, but the door closest to the stairs had a telltale glow seeping out from under it. Voldemort waved his wand lazily and the door blasted to bits, inside was the Potter woman and her son.

"Move aside, woman," the Dark Lord hissed. He kept his wand raised, though he could see she was unarmed, the same as her now dead husband.

"Please not Harry, take me instead!" She pleaded.

"I said step aside," he would not repeat himself again.

She sobbed as she dropped the boy in his bed and shielded him from view, "no please, not Harry, take me, please, please!"

"Avada Kedavra!" Her body fell back against the crib before it slid to the floor, and a tear leaked down her face. The baby, who laughed as his mummy fell, thinking it to be a game, pushed out his bottom lip and began to whimper as Voldemort drew closer. The Dark Lord stuck his wand out, just inches from the child's forehead and cast the spell, "Avada Kedavra!"

A flash of green light and then the world fell away, the Dark Lord felt as if he was shattered into a thousand pieces. He felt his body fall away and then he was nothing, nothing but agony and fire and conciousness screaming for it to end. He didn't know if he flew or fell, if he was dead or alive, all he knew was pain.