WHO GAVE HIM A LIGHTNING SCAR
If Lily and James had lived, they would have stood and dusted off the signs of a fight from their clothes. James would have tried to help Lily up - she would have refused - and after they shared a hug and kiss of relief, they would have rushed into Harry's room.
The mobile over his cradle would still be twinkling in the moonlight. Books and toys would be laid out on the floor, where a shag carpet made the wooden floor soft and comforting. There would be dishevelled cushions everywhere, and a window might be left ajar, but all they would see would be their little boy's hands clutching at air.
Lily would let out a cry, running to her son just to feel his heartbeat - his life, spared. James would follow, stopping short behind her to lay a hand on her shoulder.
They would look down, together, at the marvelous green eyes (Lily's eyes) and the sparse beginning of raven hair (like James). Their baby would look up at them, not afraid, but gazing at his parents in confusion.
And Lily would gasp, and point at his forehead, where a fresh cut showed. James would make a sound of fury - his child - and lean further into the cradle to study the wound. It was a lightning bolt, three jagged strokes that a child could draw with crayons.
But Harry's scarring cut would be nothing, as long as the boy wearing it was alive and well. Lily would scoop up Harry, and the family would embrace. They would shake, the tears just beginning to fall.
Residual magic would hover in the room, and the curtains would be blown back where the shock wave of spells had hit.
It would be quiet on the streets.
The Potters would laugh, and cry.