DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.
Staring into the full-length mirror in the corner of her room, Bellatrix marveled at how little she recognised the woman reflected back at her. Where once, the black, form-fitting dress and dragonhide boots she adorned had represented exactly who she was to the world, a powerful, dangerous killer that any witch or wizard possessing an ounce of self-preservation would know to avoid, now the image just did not look right to her.
She had changed so much since the last time she had gone on a mission, had gone from her lowest point sitting rotting in the cells of Malfoy Manor to the top of the world, mother to a daughter she adored. She had grown, had realised that joy could be found in matters other than fighting but in the care and raising of a child, that the softer, maternal part of her was just as strong as the wild, violent side she had mistakenly believed was all there was to her. It had been over two years since she had last tapped into that darkness inside of her, relished in the blood and the chaos of a fight, had indulged in the elation of seeing an opponent felled and the life leave their eyes.
It had been two years, and now she needed to once again be Bellatrix Black, assassin, the most feared weapon in the Dark Lord's arsenal, the part of her she had come to despise, and forget about the part of her she loved and wanted to be, Delphi's beloved "Momma".
Looking into the mirror over the shoulder of her reflection, she could see her little girl playing with the small number of toys she owned. A colour-changing cube, which if she was holding and pushed a small amount of magic into would flash all different colours, delighting her and making Bellatrix worry she would damage her eyesight with how luminous it could be. A snake, made of soft fabrics and filled with fluff, that appeared alive to a small degree, which Delphi had imaginatively named "Nakey". Delphi would drag it around the room, chattering away in her mostly unintelligible babble. Though she did not like to think on it, Bellatrix had seen her hissing at the snake in a one-sided conversation, reminding her far too much of who the other half of her blood came from. A reading book, regaling her with animated stories of Merlin, Arthur and the knights of the round table, a gift from her Auntie Cissy that Delphi would watch play out across the pages. One morning, Bellatrix had awoken to the sight of her daughter, having somehow taken her own wand from the holster she kept strapped to her left arm at all times, brandishing it like a sword, with Nakey loyally filling in the role of a noble steed. Bellatrix found it amusing that her daughter would role-play the muggle knights rather than the great Merlin, but less so that she was able to take her wand from her without stirring her from her sleep.
If the choice were left with her, Bellatrix would happily spend the remainder of her days here, in this safe haven away from the world, just she and Delphi, but it was not the way of the world, and now Bellatrix had to face the reality of it once more.
A knock at the door sounded, and Bellatrix turned from the mirror as the familiar blonde woman entered, quietly closing the door behind her. With a jubilant cry of "Cissy!" Delphi rapidly toddled away from her play area, dragging Nakey behind her, and into the waiting arms of her beloved Auntie who had dropped to her knees ready for the greeting she knew was to come. Bellatrix watched as Narcissa scooped Delphi up into her arms in a tight hug, the smile on her face one never seen in the House of Black during their childhoods, and kiss her godniece on both cheeks.
"Hello, darling. Have you been having fun?" Nodding, Delphi launched into a grand speech, regaling her Auntie with tales of her day. Narcissa was just about able to pick up the words "dance", "Nakey" and "Momma" in her chattering, and turned to her elder sister with a questioning look. Walking over to the pair, Bellatrix explained. "She wanted to dance with her Nakey, so I animated him to bounce around the room with her. Of course, then I was pressed into action." She shook her head, an expression of forced distaste on her face before slowly, a smile rose unbidden. "I suppose it was an amusing enough afternoon."
Narcissa smirked, knowing her sister had in fact enjoyed herself immensely and was simply trying to pretend otherwise to preserve her feared reputation. If only the populace could see the terrifying Bellatrix Black now, my would they tremble.
"I can imagine, Bella." She replied, voice dripping with mirth before Delphi began to squirm in her arms, and Narcissa gently placed her back onto the floor where her niece grabbed her hand and attempted to lead her over to her play area. Narcissa held her ground, and when Delphi turned, wondering why she was not making the progress she desired, Narcissa told her gently "In a moment, dearest. Let Auntie Cissy speak to Momma for a moment." Delphi dropped her hands from hers and looked intently at the floor, as if she were deciding the fate of the universe, before looking back up at her with an accepting nod and a smile, and raced off to her toys, only falling to the ground in her haste once. Narcissa watched her go with a gentle smile before she looked to her sister and spoke.
"Is it time?" Bellatrix nodded sadly, looking over to where her daughter had returned to her play, and Narcissa's smile dropped and was replaced by a worried expression. Her sister, who before would be bouncing in anticipation of the fight she knew was to come, a ball of tight, barely restrained energy waiting to be unleashed on whichever poor soul was to face her, now looked, despite the familiar garments she always wore when she was on a mission, like a completely different person. Narcissa was a strong witch and a confident woman, but she had her moments of fear, worry and doubt. During her childhood, living in a home where any mistake was punished with pain and sharp mocking words she had feared her parents' wands, Bellatrix had been there, along with Andromeda, soothing her pain and standing up to their parents on her behalf, her own terrible punishments for doing so inconsequential to her. When she was told by her parents that she was to marry Lucius, when she had worried that he would mistreat her and that she would live out an unhappy existence as the trophy wife on the arm of the Lord of Malfoy, Bellatrix had been there, now alone in being her support after Andromeda's disappearance, and telling her that she was Narcissa Black, no matter what her surname would become and no one could make her feel less than they. And when she had fallen pregnant with her darling Draco, she had whispered in quiet confession to her sister, far away from prying eyes and ears, that she doubted her capabilities to be a mother, that she would be doomed to repeat the coldness, the harshness, the distance she had felt from her mother and father with her own child, Bellatrix had been there, reassuring her that Narcissa was the best of them, the sister with the kindest heart, and she would shower her children with all the love and attention that they had never received themselves.
All her life, Bellatrix had been there for her, and now Narcissa knew she needed to be the strong one and give her sister the support she now needed.
Narcissa moved closer to her sister and placed her hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention. She smiled reassuringly at her "Do not worry yourself, Bellatrix. The two of you cannot spend all of your lives cooped up in this room, it is perfectly normal for you to have time away from her. It will be good for her to begin learning independence, surely you do not expect to be right by her side her entire life? What will you do when it is time for her to attend school, hmm?" Startled, Bellatrix looked at Narcissa and the knowing expression on her face and then back to Delphi. Biting her lip, she mumbled "But I don't want to leave her. What if something happens?"
Narcissa laughed "What if something happens? What on earth do you expect to happen? You are Bellatrix Black. You have never been hurt on your excursions, never come close to being caught, not like some of those other fools. I accept you may be slightly out of practice, shall we say, but what do you have to fear?"
Bellatrix's eyes never moved from her daughter. "That I lose everything. That I lose her. You never know what might happen when you go on a mission, but it never bothered me before. Now...now, I could be killed or worse imprisoned, and I'd never see her again. What will happen to her if it all goes wrong?"
Narcissa stared at her sister, shocked. Bellatrix never showed fear, at least not to her, she was always the strongest of the sisters. Closing the distance between them, Narcissa enveloped her in a tight embrace, and Bellatrix, rather than push away, clung to her.
"Don't be so silly, Bella. She will be here with me whilst you are gone, and you will go and do what needs to be done, and then you will come back to us. You always do." Bellatrix pulled away from her, looking deep into her eyes.
"Thank you, Cissy. You're right, I was being silly." She smiled, and Narcissa noted that it was a little watery, then Bellatrix pulled away, walking across the room to where her daughter sat playing.
Lowering herself to the floor, Bellatrix pulled her daughter into her lap, tickling her under the ribs as she did so, causing Delphi to squeal with laughter. Waiting until the laughter had subsided, Bellatrix lifted her daughter's chin up gently until she had her full attention. Speaking slowly and calmly, she told her "Sweetheart, momma has to go out now, but it's okay, because you're going to go with your Auntie Cissy and play with cousin Draco, and you'll have fun, right?"
Delphi looked at her mother, confusion swimming in her eyes. "Momma come?" Patiently, Bellatrix shook her head, willing her to understand. "No, baby, momma can't come, but I'll be back soon, I promise." Still confused, Delphi nevertheless repeated "Promise", though Bellatrix doubted she understood fully what it meant.
Knowing that the time to leave had arrived, Bellatrix hugged her daughter as if she would never get another opportunity to do so ignoring the little voice in her head telling her that there was no need. Satisfied that she had conveyed all of her love into the hug, Bellatrix released her daughter enough that she could slowly push herself from the floor, picking Nakey up as she did so and handing it to her daughter, and once fully risen carry Delphi over to the waiting Narcissa. Bellatrix handed her daughter over to her younger sister, every movement laced with reluctance. As Narcissa held her niece securely, Bellatrix kissed her on her forehead and told her "Goodbye, sweetheart." Narcissa knew that Bellatrix wasn't just saying goodbye in the physical sense, and as Delphi, unaware of what was really happening, responded sweetly "Bye bye, momma.", her sister closed her eyes and stood silently for a long moment until with a deep breath her eyes flew open, hard, cold and all traces of warmth absent, and Bellatrix Black, feared weapon of the Dark Lord, had returned.
Bellatrix, barely looking at the two people she loved most in this world, swept silently over to the door. Stopping there, she briefly turned, and as she looked to her daughter, Narcissa saw the warmth return to her eyes before, with a blink, they returned to the hard, steely grey and she left the room without another word.
Left alone, Narcissa stood holding her niece for a long moment, until Delphi looked up at her with a lost expression, asking "Momma gone?"
Narcissa looked at the door her sister had just left, every inch the woman who had struck fear into Wizarding Britain, on her way to murder a defenceless infant on the orders of her Lord. Tightening her hold, she held Delphi closer to her, trying to comfort the child and herself before she replied.
"Yes, darling, momma has gone."
Lily sat on the sofa, feet curled up underneath her, her notebook lying open on the arm of the piece of furniture as she scribbled away. Occasionally, she would glance up from her work as next to her, James was sitting on the edge of his side of the sofa, waving his wand and creating small puffs of smoke for the little boy sitting on the floor in front of him.
Harry, her little darling, would reach out and try to catch the smoke, causing it to dissipate in the air. After a few frustrating failures, Harry had then decided that, rather than try and catch the smoke, he would create his own from thin air, blowing it towards his father who, to amuse his son, would theatrically try and catch the smoke too, growing evermore disappointed with his own failures as Harry watched on, howling with childish laughter.
It was a picturesque scene of a happy, carefree family unit, but Lily knew that it wasn't the truth, knew that James, behind the laughter and cheer as he played with his son, was filled with worry and fear like she. Two days ago, they had received an urgent message from Sirius, telling them that the Ministry had fallen to Voldemort, that the Order and anyone wishing to escape his rule had fled to Hogwarts, the school becoming the last bastion of protection for those the Death Eaters would begin to hunt, the muggle-borns and blood-traitors who they wished to wipe from the world. Hiding away, hoping that Hogwarts would protect them from the evil wizard who had taken over their world. Lily could relate.
They had been living here for almost two years, ever since Dumbledore had come to them and told them of a prophecy that had been made in his presence, a prophecy that was heard by one of the Death Eaters and relayed to Voldemort, a prophecy that Dumbledore believed could apply to their own unborn child, as well as that of Frank and Alice Longbottom. Lily had been sceptical, as she had been led to believe prophecies were often unclear, their meanings never becoming truly apparent until they had come true, and many never did. However, Dumbledore had warned them that Voldemort would most likely believe the prophecy to be true, especially once news filtered out that Lily was expecting, and they would be at the top of his hit list due to Lily escaping death at the hands of that monster three times, and had urged them to go into hiding, as Voldemort would now stop at nothing to end their lives.
Dumbledore had not told them the exact wording of the prophecy, but did convey the basics: a child would be born in late July, to a mother who had defied Voldemort three times, and that child would one day be powerful enough to defeat him. Lily hadn't believed it, not until Harry had been born amid such a frenzy of magical power. It shocked her how strong he already was, she knew James felt the same way, and his power would only grow the older he got. It was important that as he aged, they taught him how to control his magic, lest he hurt others without meaning to. She supposed that was what James was doing right now, in a way, but Lily believed what she was doing was more useful in the present.
As soon as she had heard of the danger they were in, the danger her child would be in, Lily had begun to work relentlessly in her notebook, trying to come up with something, anything, that would keep her baby safe. In time, her focus turned from her usual expertise of charms and potions to runes, and Lily was confident that the ritual she had come up with would be enough to save her child from guaranteed death, but, like with all ritualistic magic, there was a price to be paid. A ritual this powerful, a ritual capable of stopping even the killing curse from harming her child, would require payment, and to save one life, another would have to be sacrificed, willingly and with full knowledge of what they were giving up, of whose life they would be protecting. Lily had tried tweaking the formula, tried to calculate if anything else would work, but no, this was the only way.
Turning to look over to James once more, she spoke "James, did you check this over again?" James turned from his laughing son, and Lily could see the resignation in his hazel eyes. "Yes, Lily flower. I even had Sirius look last time he was 'round. There's nothing else that can be done." Lily hummed in acceptance, looking back down at her notes. Lily was an intelligent woman, but James and Sirius were brilliant, so, if even they, couldn't come up with an alternative sacrifice, then she believed that no other way to power the ritual existed.
If it came down to it, if Voldemort came here to Godric's Hollow trying with all of his power and might to break down the charm that kept them safe, then Lily would do it. She would sacrifice her own life, willingly, to ensure her son would live, even against the darkest, most evil curse there was, and she would have no qualms about doing it. She'd suggested to James that they perform the ritual anyway, but he had shut her down immediately, telling her that they were safe, that neither Sirius nor Peter would ever betray them and they would only do it if the need was absolute, and even if it were he insisted that he be the one to sacrifice himself. Lily, not wanting to argue, had agreed, but internally she knew that if it came down to it, it needed to be her. In either scenario, Harry would lose a parent, and though she was powerful and intelligent, she knew James was even more so, and therefore the best protector to remain with their son.
Shaking herself from her maudlin thoughts, Lily forced herself to close the notebook, jumping to her feet. Unnoticed by Harry, who was engrossed in trying to cover one of James' red clouds with his own green one without causing either to disappear, she made her way behind him, creeping up silently until grabbing him up she lifted him up into the air as he exclaimed in shock and delight and planted many kisses on the side of his head, causing him to laugh "Mummy!" Grinning, Lily deposited him back on the ground, watching as James took the opportunity to tickle him whilst his back was turned, resulting in gales of laughter and futile attempts from her son to wriggle free. This was what mattered, the present, the opportunity to fill their son's life with joy and laughter, and Lily was determined not to miss a single moment of it.
Just as the thought struck her to go and find her camera and take a picture of her husband and son laughing together, the air around her grew chilly, and the hair's on the back of her neck stood up at the ominous feeling. Looking around, Lily's mind went blank as she wondered what on earth had just happened, until she heard the ding from her husband's ring and she whipped around, catching the expression on her husband's face.
His skin had turned deathly pale, eyes widened in horror as he looked at the ring adorning his finger, mouth open in shock. Before Lily could ask what was wrong James snapped from his stupor and jumped to his feet, head turned towards the front door.
With a voice filled with fear and trepidation, James spoke without turning to his wife. "The Fidelius is down. He's here." His head snapped back to look at her, and Lily stared back into the eyes of the man she loved, the eyes filled with abject terror and rising panic. Moving towards her, James scooped up his son from the floor, handing him to Lily, as she finally found her voice "James, what-" James stepped in close, placing his hands on either side of her face and kissing her, cutting off her words. He tried to pour all of his love, all of his heart into that kiss, but all too soon it ended. With his hands still resting on her face, James spoke urgently "He's got wards up all around this place. Lily, take Harry, go upstairs, start the ritual." Lily stared at his handsome face, realisation creeping into her bones. "But James, we haven't fixed it yet! It still needs-" For the final time, her husband interrupted her panic.
"I know." He spoke simply, and Lily could see the terror in his eyes had subsided, instead filled with a horrible, grim acceptance. It scared Lily more than any other look she had seen. James bowed slightly, kissing his son on the forehead and lifting one hand to ruffle his hair, before stepping back. The cold, heavy feeling in the air was growing ever thicker. James stood for a moment more, staring into the green eyes of his wife. "I love you, Lily Potter." As he spoke, the same roguish smile that had both infuriated and intrigued her during their time at school had returned, before melting away as he took one more step back and turned away from her, whipping out his wand.
Angled towards the doorway, he spoke one final time to the love of his life, but his voice was no longer that of her husband, but the Lord of one of Britain's ancient houses. "I'll buy you as much time as I can. Go." Lily stood for a second more, hoping he would turn to her again, but instead he simply stood in place, clutching his wand in preparation. Knowing that she could linger no longer, and hating to turn away from him, Lily darted towards the sofa, grabbing her notebook in one hand, before fleeing towards the stairway, taking the steps two at a time.
James listened to the sound of his wife running up the stairs, trying his hardest to dampen the fear churning in his gut, the disbelief that the day he had dreaded had come. There was no escape, at least not for him, but perhaps Lily would find a way to get herself and their son out. She'd done it before, had escaped him before, so maybe there was a chance. If only he hadn't let Dumbledore borrow his cloak, had agreed that its use was better lent to the Order than here, gathering dust in the most protected house in Britain. If only.
The magic in the air, so dark and cold and dangerous, grew thicker and thicker, to the point that James could almost taste it, and with a loud bang the front door was blown from its hinges, splintering into a thousand pieces of wood, before a tall man, with red, snake-slitted eyes on a once-handsome face stepped over the threshold. He had come.
James raised his wand, shifting into a duelling stance, head slightly lowered but eyes raised and steeled himself. If Voldemort believed he would go down without a fight, he was mistaken. James knew he had no real hope of victory, but he would throw everything he had at this monster until his inevitable demise, keeping him occupied as long as he possibly could for his family. Voldemort, now stood in the doorway to the living room, eyes raking slowly around the room before settling upon him. The thin lips curved into a mocking smirk, and he bowed slightly. "Lord Potter, I offer my apologies for the rather forceful entry, but I believe we have some business to attend to and you have kept me waiting for this meeting for so very long."
James only snarled in response as he prepared to fire a deadly curse at the dark wizard who surprisingly, James quickly noted, stood in front of him without his wand in hand, but before he could cast his opening salvo, Voldemort spoke once more. "Let us not hasten to an unpleasant conclusion to the evening's proceedings Lord Potter. I have brought an old friend of yours here with me tonight, will you not allow him a moment of your time?" As Voldemort spoke, James saw movement from behind the hated man and felt a stab of fear that Voldemort had brought reinforcements, that he had either Bellatrix or possibly Snape with him, but as the Dark Lord stepped to the side to allow the figure behind him to enter, the fear in his gut turned to nausea.
Peter Pettigrew shuffled slowly into the room, head bowed and eyes filled with shame.
James' wand arm slowly dropped as his eyes widened in shock. "Peter?" he exclaimed in disbelief, voice cracking with the betrayal he felt rising from his core. Peter, who raised his head slightly, meeting his best friend's eyes, then spoke, so very quietly so that James could barely hear him.
"I am so sorry, James."
With four cracks, the group arrived in a lush woodland area just outside the ward lines to the famed Longbottom Manor. The manor was built in the thirteenth century when the Longbottom family first rose to prominence in the forests of Nottinghamshire on a powerful magical ley line, much like Hogwarts Castle. And, much like Hogwarts, the Longbottom Manor had never been breached.
Until tonight.
Rodolphus Lestrange scowled down at the kneeling witch who was slowly moving her wand through the air, muttering to herself. "How long is this going to take, Black?"
Bellatrix Black ignored the idiot behind her, continuing her examination of the wards before her. As well as the ancient wards that had kept intruders out for centuries, she could feel newer, deadlier wards had been erected, likely when the family had gone into hiding as the Dark Lord had set his sights on the elimination of the family. She could feel the familiar magic woven into the protections and grit her teeth in frustration before she turned to the three wizards standing behind her.
Setting her eyes on the eldest Lestrange, she spoke "The wards are nothing I cannot handle, but they all need to come down before we can put up Anti-Apparition and Anti-Portkey wards and there is-"
Rodolphus butted in, clapping his hands together and smiling menacingly. "Very good, get on with it then girl. We'll be done with this in no time." Waving impatiently at her, he placed his hands inside his robes and stood still, waiting for Bellatrix to follow his commands.
She was incensed, not only did this fool interrupt her, he had the gall to believe he could command her and she should hasten to follow his whims. He was sadly mistaken if he thought she would take this without retaliation.
Rising from her knees, she smoothed down the skirt of her dress and calmly strolled closer to the man. Once she was just two feet away, her right hand shot out and grabbed him by the collar of his robe, pulling his neck down until he was half-crouched, as her left hand pulled out her wand and placed it at his throat. Looking down on the struggling wizard, she hissed "Do not presume you are in charge of me, Lestrange. You seem to have forgotten all about me, so allow me to remedy that. I am the witch who will remove your eyes and replace them with your testicles if you ever dare to interrupt me again. And Rabastan, keep your wand where it is."
Turning her eyes to the side, she gazed at the two other wizards standing watching the altercation. Rabastan had his hand in his robes, clearly about to remove his wand to defend his brother, clearly not comprehending that attacking her whilst she had her wand to his sibling's throat would be a very bad idea. Bellatrix rolled her eyes at the sight. Crouch meanwhile simply stood watching, an expression of curiosity on his face.
Catching his eyes, Bellatrix continued from where she had been rudely interrupted. "I can take down the wards, but it will take time, and there is an alert ward woven in that is keyed to Moody, so as soon as I start to take them down, he'll know we are here and he will come to save his old students, likely with as many wands as he can muster. Or, I can punch us a hole through the wards without alerting those inside the Manor, but we'll have to move quickly because we won't be able to stop them from escaping once they realise we are here and it will still set off the alert ward."
Crouch nodded, thinking hard. "Either way we are on a time limit, but the second option gives us longer if we can get to them without giving ourselves away. Whatever you think is best, Black." He glanced to the side at Rabastan, who looked mutinous.
The other man spat out "Release my brother, Black. He is in charge here, he will decide." Bellatrix glared at the younger Lestrange before looking down at the wizard still held in her grasp. He was deadly still, not wanting to provoke the witch who had him at wand point. "Aww, Rodolphus here won't mind following my commands, will you Rodolphus?" The wizard made a noise of protest "But-"
Bellatrix snarled and the tip of her wand lit up, burning a small hole into the skin of the wizard's neck. He yelped and shook his head desperately. "N-Not at all, whatever you d-decide Black."
Bellatrix smiled and removed her wand, allowing the wizard to straighten as she released him. "Very good, Rodolphus. Now, whilst Barty is correct and the silent approach would give us more time, I don't trust you two idiots not to give us away, so I am going to bring these wards down. As soon as I do, throw up Anti-Apparition and Portkey wards, Barty. We will have a few minutes at most, so as soon as we locate the Longbottoms we will have to deal with them swiftly, no messing around, got it?"
The three wizards nodded, two reluctantly and the other with amusement lining his features. Satisfied, she turned away and walked back to where the wards ended and pointed her wand towards where she knew them to be. Without turning back, she spoke "And don't get any ideas while my back is turned, Rodolphus, Rabastan, I will know if you do."
Content that neither of the Lestrange brothers would make a dishonourable attempt at retaliation whilst her back was turned, her full attention focused on the famed wards before her. For almost seven hundred years these wards had kept the Longbottom family safe, but no longer.
The life of her daughter depended on it.
James stared at the small man, unable to accept the reality that his mind was currently screaming at him. Peter couldn't have betrayed them, he couldn't, he was his best friend, his brother, there was no way.
"Peter? W-What do you mean? Why are you here with him?" James searched the brown eyes of his friend, desperately looking for something, anything, that would tell him that no, Peter wasn't here willingly, he hadn't betrayed him and his family to the monster watching the scene play out with morbid amusement.
Peter looked down, unable to meet James' eyes. "I-I'm sorry, James. I had to, I didn't have a choice!" He wrung his hands together as his eyes rose to meet the hazel of his friend once again, before he flinched away, hating the anger he saw blazing in the once kind eyes.
James fought down the angry tears that sprung up at his former friend's words. "You betrayed us? You betrayed Lily, betrayed Harry, betrayed me? And expect me to, what, forgive you? I don't think so." His wand shot up again, levelling it at the man who had betrayed his family.
Peter rose his hands in surrender, panicking. "J-James, don't! I begged him, I begged him t-to save you! To let you live! Just stand aside, and you can walk a-away, you can live, you and Lily!"
James laughed bitterly. "Oh, how kind of you, Peter. We can live, as long as we let your master kill our son? Do you really think I'd do that?" Peter shook his head, sadly. He had always known that James would never allow someone he loved to be killed simply to save his own life. James smiled humourlessly "Of course not. I'd die to protect the ones I love...I'd have died for you. But it was too much to expect the same, huh? Get out of here, Pettigrew." Peter's eyes widened at James' command, but his friend was not the one in control here.
Lord Voldemort had seen enough. "Ah, Peter, you made a valiant attempt but it seems your friend here does not wish to see reason. You may leave, there is no further need for you here tonight and I doubt that you will enjoy witnessing what comes next."
Knowing he could not refuse this dismissal, Peter began to back out of the room, keeping his eyes on James the entire way, as his childhood friend had yet to lower his wand. Once at the doorway, Peter spoke to him for what he knew to be the last time.
"Goodbye, James."
James Potter did not reply, merely turned his eyes and his wand to the Dark Lord, and Peter turned and left the house, walking slowly down the garden path to the gate. Looking back, he took one last look at the home of his friends, of the boy he thought of as a nephew, and fought back tears at what he knew was about to happen to the happy little family. He knew he should leave, walk down the lane until he was past the wards and apparate away, but he couldn't. He needed to be here, some morbid guilt compelling him to witness the price of his betrayal.
Inside, the two wizards that remained each stood, watching the other for a few long tense seconds, before James' wand flashed as he sent a cutting curse to the undefended Dark Lord's neck, but unbelievably the wizard waved his empty hand and a silver shield sprung into being, blocking his curse with a gong. Voldemort smiled at him thinly and slowly removed his wand from the sleeve of his robes and tutted "My, I expect better than that from the last descendant of Godric Gryffindor. Come, James Potter, impress me."
James roared and his wand burst into life, conjuring a dozen arrows from thin air, and with a sharp motion of his arm they flew towards the Dark Lord, who, with a wave of his wand, transfigured the arrows into dust where they harmlessly dispersed around him. Lazily, Voldemort sent a Crucio towards James who dived to the side before responding hastily, sending two Stupefy curses and a Reducto. Voldemort stepped to the side, removing himself from the line of fire of the stunning curses but into the path of the Reducto, but rather than block the curse, he slashed his wand towards it, sending his magic crashing into the spell and sending it back towards a shocked James who dove to the ground as the damaging spell raced over his head, hearing it impact the wall behind him. Glancing back James saw a smouldering crater had formed in the wall but had no more time to think about it as the deadly green jet of the killing curse smashed into the floor beside him. Rolling to his feet James once again had to defend himself as Voldemort sent another Crucio his way. Before the spell could hit him James took a page from Voldemort's book and conjured a golden shield in the air before him. The shield fell to the ground after impact and James watched as Voldemort looked down at his conjuration.
Cold, mocking laughter erupted from the Dark Lord as he looked upon the golden shield, dented yet unmistakably adorned with the Gryffindor crest. "Very good, Potter, a fine example of transfiguration prowess. What more do you have for me?"
James answered by waving his wand through the air, watching as the sofa turned into a large Lion, which raced towards the Dark Lord. As the man sent a simple cutting curse toward the beast's neck, stopping it in its tracks, James was not idle. Coal from the fireplace transformed into ravens, who flew high into the air until they were almost touching the ceiling before diving toward Voldemort's head, talons outstretched, but before they could latch onto their target they all burst into flame and fell to the floor as piles of ash. The golden shield sprung up from the ground, morphing into a Griffin and running headlong toward the enemy of its creator, but it too was felled with a cutting curse, the eagles head falling to the ground with a wet thunk before being followed by its body. Seeing two of his creations dispatched with such ease ruined any plan of James' that would involve the use of Prongs, but despite his lack of success inside James was cheering. Voldemort was playing into his hands, for the longer he played around with him, the longer Lily had upstairs to work, so all he had to do was keep entertaining the malevolent being until he grew bored and killed him.
The Dark Lord's mastery of magic was too great to defeat with his usual repertoire of transfiguration, his reflexes too fast, but James was not done yet. He thought of his family upstairs, his son who Voldemort had come to kill when he was just a baby, he thought of his parents, killed in their home by the man before him, he thought of Benjy Fenwick, of Marlene McKinnon, of Edgar Bones, of countless others who were gone because of the pure evil of the man he was fighting, and with these thoughts, James felt his hate for the man bubble inside him like a steaming cauldron, and he brandished his wand once more and spat:
"Avada Kedavra!"
The green curse shot towards the Dark Lord like lightning, sparks branching off the main jet as the man's eyes widened in shock, and just as it was about to reach him, just as James thought that against all odds he could beat the man, the head of the griffin was summoned into the path of the curse and it dissipated back into nothingness.
Voldemort stared at the man who he would never have believed capable of such a curse. If he had been a lesser man, a lesser wizard, he would not have had time to react to how quickly the curse had been cast. Not a second had passed between the casting and the spell being upon him, and only his superior reflexes, honed over years of practice and a not insignificant number of rituals, had saved him. Of course, he was immortal, he had seen to that, but the Potter man had no way of knowing that.
He clapped slowly, mockingly, at the now heavily-breathing wizard. The use of dark magic was clearly not in the man's nature, and had taken much out of him. "Such hate, James Potter. I would never have thought you capable of such dark magic, I am truly impressed with your fortitude. However, dark magic is my specialty, and that was almost an invitation. Allow me to demonstrate what the dark can truly do!" He raised his wand, bearing it down on James, and the foul magic within him was let loose.
Again and again, the Dark Lord sent curses towards James, curses that would end his life slowly and torturously, curses that wouldn't kill him but leave him incapacitated beyond belief, curses that would turn his mind to jelly and it was all he could do to defend himself. All thoughts of attack now forgotten as the voice of Alastor Moody, his old Auror instructor, echoed inside his head, "Block, parry, dodge, stay alive Potter!" Sweat was dripping from his brow as he was forced back towards the still-smouldering wall behind him whereas his own efforts had been unable to move the Dark Lord even one foot from where he first stood.
Finally, a black smoking curse impacted his right shoulder and James fell to his knees with a cry of pain dropping his wand to the floor where it rolled away towards the hearth out of his reach.
James knelt, holding his right shoulder with his free hand, and quickly glanced at the wound. A hole had been shot through the flesh, deeper than James could see without a mirror but he suspected it had gone fully through to the other side, and it oozed black pus. A rotting curse, designed to fester and kill him slowly over a few days.
James forced himself not to groan in pain as the wound pulsed, sending waves of agony through him. Looking up, he watched as Voldemort walked slowly towards him, an evil smirk adorning his hated face.
"Ah, James, what a good show. You have impressed me with your ingenuity and skill. Perhaps...yes, I believe you deserve one more chance to see the error of your ways. Join me, James Potter, and I promise that you will live past this day, all previous crimes will be forgiven and you will be welcomed with open arms at my side. I will even allow your band of fellows to join you, Black and that mutt Lupin, I will even spare your darling wife, if you will only join me. What do you say?"
James looked up into the red eyes of the darkest wizard there had ever been who was offering him and his darling Lily along with his friends a chance to live. But not his son. James spat the blood that had welled in his mouth onto the wizard's bare, pale feet.
"Fuck you."
Voldemort hissed furiously and pointed his wand at James' chest. "I see. Farewell, James Potter."
James watched as the tip of the curse flashed green and steeled himself for what he knew was about to happen. He thought of his wife, his son, his parents who he would be joining soon, of Remus, who he had himself betrayed by believing him to be the spy, of Sirius, who would wake up tomorrow and find out that they were gone. James' thoughts stilled.
Sirius.
As the Dark Lord opened his mouth to utter the first syllables of the curse that would end his life James dropped his hand from his shoulder and held it towards the hearth beside him, feeling the wand he had owned since he was eleven years old fly into his palm. "AVADA-" He thought desperately of his best friend, the brother of his heart, and from his wand erupted a great, proud stag "-KEDAVRA!" and as the curse impacted his chest and his soul left his body, the spectral form of Prongs flew across the room and out of the window in search of the recipient.
Lord Voldemort watched as the body of James Potter crumpled to the ground, eyes still open and glasses askew. With a sigh of disappointment, as he would have greatly enjoyed having such a capable wizard to call his own, the Dark Lord walked away from the deceased man and towards the stairs at the back of the property and began to climb. As he did so, he wondered idly why the wizard as his last act in this life, had summoned his patronus, he must have known that help would not arrive to save him in time. It did not really matter to Lord Voldemort, as James Potter was now dead, his wife and son would soon follow, and any help that arrived would be killed just as they were.
There was no doubt in his mind, as he reached the top of the staircase, that he would prevail.
It was his destiny to rule, and rule he shall.
Bellatrix stood and watched as the wards before her became visible, shimmering in the air and distorting her view of the property they protected. The chant she was uttering was old, ancient magic, that had been passed down the Black family from head to head, a chant her grandfather had taught her when she had been a young girl, fascinated with ward magic. Rather than the Latin that many of the spells wizards and witches used were based on, this chant was Gregorian, guttural and powerful. Only a witch or wizard of immense power could perform the chant and live to tell the tale, as it matched the power of the chanter with that of the power of each witch and wizard that had a hand in erecting the wards she wished to destroy. If any of the magic involved were stronger than her own, her magic would be consumed and stripped from her to be added to the protections she wished to destroy. One by one, the magic of the ancient Longbottoms was brought to bear against her own, and one by one they were deemed inferior, and now only the magic of one other, newer, remained to be tested. Pausing her chant, she gritted her teeth as the strain of the magic she was casting was taking its toll. "Crouch, get ready with those wards."
Resuming her work, she felt the power of Alastor Moody brought to bear against her own, weary magic, but she held strong. The famed Auror was no match for her magic, her power and skill had taken the man's leg and eye already and soon enough with a thunderous boom the wards were destroyed as his magic faltered against her own once more.
Bellatrix knelt, exhausted, as she felt Crouch throw up containment wards all around the property and saw Rodolphus and Rabastan race across the grounds toward the manor house. She noticed movement much closer in her peripheral vision, and looked up into the eyes of Barty Crouch who had his hand outstretched towards her "Come along, Miss Black, we're not finished yet." Bellatrix nodded, ignored his offered hand, and rose to her feet. Together, they walked quickly toward the manor and the blown open front doors.
Once inside the entrance hall to the manor the two listened to the sounds of shouts and curses emanating from the room to their left and, upon entering, they came upon what looked to be a function room that had once held extravagant balls and galas but was now the scene of a furious battle. Frank Longbottom was engaged in a fight with Rodolphus whilst beside them, Rabastan was quickly losing ground to a furious Alice Longbottom. Surveying the scene, Bellatrix saw that the child was not present in the room. Turning, she ordered Barty "Go and help Rabastan, he's clearly unable to handle a girl on his own and it'll take all three of you to bring down Frank Longbottom, I'll join you once I've located their child." Barty nodded and dove into the fight, firing a blasting curse at the woman as he joined forces with his fellow Death Eater, and as Bellatrix backed out of the room she saw that between them they had immediately forced the strong Auror on the defensive. Satisfied that the three men would be capable of defeating the Longbottoms without her help, she walked back out of the room to the entrance hall and looked around. Seeing the grand staircase, she decided her best bet was to search upstairs, because if the child was not downstairs with its parents they were likely in bed when they had attacked. Making her way up the long staircase until she was on the upper floor, she made her way through the rooms, searching for the babe.
Eventually, she came upon the room furthest from the staircase and found that it was locked. Knowing that she would likely find her prey inside, she decided against unlocking the door and simply blasted it inwards but immediately had to duck a red stunning curse that was directed her way. Peering inside she saw an elderly woman in a nightdress standing in front of a cot where a small boy was sleeping soundly.
Augusta Longbottom had her wand pointed at Bellatrix as she stood in the splintered doorway, her aim strong and steady as she sneered "You are definitely a Black. Your kind have always been evil, cruel people. Why are you here?"
Bellatrix strode into the room, her own wand pointed at the woman defending her quarry. She motioned with her wand toward the still sleeping boy, noting that he must be under a spell to have not stirred at the noise she made when entering. "To kill him."
Augusta snarled and fired a jet of flame from her wand intending to immolate the woman who had come to kill her beloved grandson. "Over my dead body."
Bellatrix sneered back at her "So be it." And launched into action firing deadly curses at the other woman too quick for her to deal with. Augusta tried valiantly to block each offering, but the skill, speed and power of the younger woman were too much for her, and soon enough a cutting curse slipped past her defences, slashing across her abdomen, and she fell to her knees as her organs fell out onto the ground around her, staining her nightdress.
Bellatrix stalked over to the cot as she pointed her wand at the kneeling woman, who was making a futile attempt to put her intestines back into place. Arriving at the cot she looked down at the baby inside. "What is his name?" She asked the woman beside her who cocked her head to the side in confusion. "N-Neville, why-" Bellatrix nodded, cutting her off "Thank you. Avada Kedavra." She watched as the curse struck the elderly witch full in the face and she fell to the side, hands still holding her insides.
Bellatrix peered down into the cot at the handsome little baby within. It struck her how innocent he looked, how close in age he seemed to her own daughter, and Bellatrix felt a hitch in her throat at the thought. Here she was, about to end the young life of this boy, the very epitome of the innocence she had once refused to harm.
Raising her wand for the final time, she pointed it at the face of the little boy and closed her eyes, not wishing to see the curse hit true. The face of her own daughter swam into her mind's eye, and Bellatrix bit back a sob at the image of Delphi. Ruthlessly, she cast the mental apparition aside and focused on her hate for the man who had sent her here tonight, the man who had threatened the life of her daughter, the man who would kill Delphi if Bellatrix did not do as he commanded.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The tears came unbidden and rolled down her cheeks as she opened her eyes, looking straight into those of Neville Longbottom, the fear still present in his brown irises as she realised that the old woman's sleeping charm had failed with her death. The little boy had awoken just as his life had ended.
Bellatrix reached out to the little boy, wanting to close his eyes, wanting to hide away from the accusation she imagined there. "I'm sorry Neville, I'm so sorry!"
Such was her sorrow, the devastation at the line she had crossed that night, that Bellatrix Black never noticed the figure who had arrived in the doorway, hobbling as quickly as he could upstairs on the wooden leg he was not yet used to.
"Stupefy!"
The dark witch dropped to the ground next to the cot as Alastor Moody limped into the room, his magical eye immediately noting the two corpses next to the downed Black.
For he had indeed come to aid his two former protegees when his alert ward had been engaged and then disappeared, but to his shame, he had arrived too late to save any of them. But with the capture of Bellatrix Black, the Lestrange brothers and the unknown young man who had accompanied them, there might be some way for the light to regroup and take back their country.
Reaching down with a scarred hand, he closed the eyes of Neville Longbottom and pulled up his small sleeping blanket to cover him from view.
Turning from the cot and the body within, he directed his wand to the stunned Death Eater and levitated her as he made his way slowly from the room.
Bellatrix Black was finally his and he would make sure she would rot for what she had done here tonight.
Lily worked quickly, desperately, as she carved the runes into the ground with her wand around Harry's cot, keeping it in the middle of the ritual circle she was making. She had only one chance at this, one chance to save her son, and she could not afford to make any mistakes. Downstairs, she could hear the crashes and bangs of spellfire and knew that her brave, noble husband was fighting to his last breath to give her as much time as he could, and doing a fantastic job, as she was now on the last part of the formula. Her wand moved with precision as she carved the last line, completing the circle and the equation she had worked on for the last two years. Stepping back, making sure not to step anywhere she had carved, she looked at her sleeping son. Harry had reacted strongly to the rising emotions he could feel from her, and it had taken most of her power to cast a charm strong enough to keep him asleep.
Suddenly from downstairs she heard a shout of pain from her husband, and her heart stopped at the sound. They were out of time. She wished she could go down to him, to help him, but she couldn't leave her son.
In the next moment Lily felt a great influx of magic, as the runes around her were powered. She had carved them, had created them, so even though they were not for her benefit, she could still feel when they had been activated. And for them to be activated, Lily knew what must have happened.
James was dead.
Her husband had died willingly so that his son may live. His love, the love of a father, had powered the ritual she had created and would now, hopefully, protect their son from certain death.
And that certain death was walking up the stairs towards them.
Lily could hear the footsteps and knew only one man had come out of the fight downstairs alive, and it was not the one she wished with every fiber of her being for it to be. And soon enough, her thoughts were confirmed as Lord Voldemort himself stood at the top of their staircase, looking over at her as she stood in the open doorway to her son's bedroom.
He smiled the cruel smile of a shark as he surveyed his prey. "Lily Potter, how nice to see you again." He walked slowly over to her, her eyesight drawn to his feet where she could see a smattering of blood. Her bottom lip wobbled, she didn't want to think about how James' blood had got there.
Voldemort continued his journey from the stairs to the room, and Lily backed away as far as she could until she knew that if she took one more step she would be standing inside the ritual circle.
The Dark Lord stalked towards her, wand pointed to the ground. "Stand aside."
Looking down at the ground, refusing to meet the horrid red eyes of the man before her, she pleaded. "Please, not Harry! Please, please, not Harry!"
The wizard, now only two feet from her and standing inside the doorway, looked upon her with disgust. "Stand aside, you silly girl." Inwardly, he cursed his promises to Severus and Peter, but what was a benevolent Lord to do?
Lily shook her head rapidly "No, no, please, don't hurt him!" Still refusing to meet his eyes, for she had heard that the Dark Lord could rip a person's thoughts from their brain with only the most minimal of eye contact, Lily felt triumph. She had been offered and refused her life, the terms of the ritual had been met as she would now knowingly sacrifice her life to save her son.
The Dark Lord raised his wand and pointed it at the woman before him, who would escape him no longer. "Very well. Avada Kedavra!"
Lord Voldemort smiled as Lily Potter began to fall, he had wanted to see this woman dead ever since she had been a student and foolishly defied him when he had attacked Hogsmeade, he was sure that Severus and Peter would understand, he really had given her every chance to escape. As the woman hit the ground he felt a rush of magic. He decided it must be the powers of fate, whirring around the room as the two that had been prophesied to meet were to come face to face.
The baby in the cot began to stir as he approached, and the wizard who had once been Tom Riddle watched as he opened his eyes, revealing the same startling green of his now-dead mother.
Harry Potter raised himself with his pudgy little arms as inside he felt the danger in the room and looked up into the red eyes of an unfamiliar man. Lord Voldemort smiled as he had the boy's attention, feeling it fitting that he look into the eyes of the one fate had deemed would one day be powerful enough to oppose him. He laughed at the thought, he was the master of his own fate, now.
"Hello Harry Potter." The boy looked at him and scowled a little at the mention of his name, wondering who exactly this man was and where his Mummy and Daddy were. His eyes darted around the room, never leaving the face of the dangerous being in front of him for too long, and soon enough settled on the form of his mother, lying still on the ground to the side of the red-eyed man.
"Mummy!" He shouted, trying to wake her. This usually worked when he wanted something, and now he wanted her to get up and tell this man to go away. "Mummy!" He tried again, but she did not stir. He pushed out a wave of his magic, hoping it would rouse her, but all it did was send her hair flying around before it fell dankly back into place. Something was wrong, Mummy never failed to come when he did that.
Lord Voldemort was forced to take a step back at the power the child had thrown out and felt shock. My, was this boy powerful! If allowed, he would one day rival even himself if the strength he possessed now, at such a young age, were any indication. It would be a shame to put a stop to such power, but Lord Voldemort could not allow any equals, and this boy could certainly become so if given the chance. He raised his wand and pointed it at the forehead of the boy inside the cot, who was quickly growing angry.
"Goodbye, Harry Potter. AVADA KEDAVRA!"
The next thing that Lord Voldemort knew was sheer, unrelenting, white-hot pain.
Peter Pettigrew looked, stunned, at the damage that had been caused to the little cottage. The whole top wall on the left-hand side of the house was gone, had exploded outwards in a flash of green, and the entire house had shook in its foundations. Peter looked into the front garden, where the chimney had fallen as it was displaced in the explosion.
What in the name of Merlin had just happened?
Peter scurried closer to the house, expecting his Lord to appear and explain, but instead he heard a sound he never thought he would hear again.
Harry was crying.
How was he alive? Surely, he could not have survived? Peter raced up the path and through the open front door coming to halt as he saw the stiff form of James Potter lying inside the living room. Peter made his way into the room to where his old friend lay and knelt slowly, as if James would suddenly burst back into life and strangle him for what he had done. Peter was about to reach out and put his friend's glasses back into the correct place from where they had fallen off one ear, but another cry from Harry startled him, and Peter rose, turning his back on James.
Making his way up the stairs, Peter could see the scorch marks on the walls, and once at the top of the stairs, also on the carpet. Making his way into the room he could see Harry, lying on top of what remained of his destroyed cot, crying in pain and holding his head in his little hands. Behind Harry, the outer wall was completely blown away, allowing Peter a clear view of Godric's Hollow. On the floor between Harry and the door was the body of Lily, face down with her lovely red hair hiding her face from his view, and a few feet from her Peter could see what remained of the Dark Lord.
Peter took a shocked step back at the sight. The Dark Lord was little more than a smoking torso, his arms, legs and head were missing, obliterated by what had taken place. Taking further steps into the room and surveying the damage, Peter could see large lumps of flesh, morbidly taking note of a pale hand, separated viciously from the arm it once belonged to was lying next to Harry's changing station, the yew wand still held tightly in its grasp. In grotestque fascination, Peter walked over to the amputated appendage, prising the wand with difficulty from the already stiff fingers.
Harry cried out once more, rolling in pain. Peter rushed over to him, ignoring the squelching of his boots as he stepped in the viscera surrounding him. Taking the little boy into his arms, Peter cooed and spoke gently to him, trying to calm the crying boy. "It's okay, it's okay, Harry, I'm here. Uncle Peter is here, shh" His comforting words had little effect, as Harry writhed in his grasp, holding his head, eyes shut tightly as the pain caused him to cry out "Hurts Petey!" Peter looked at him, scared that he was being possessed, but just as soon as the thought struck him, Harry stopped screaming, his features relaxing as he passed out.
Taking out his wand, Peter ran it over the length of his small body, casting a diagnostic charm. He was unharmed, just passed out from exhaustion, but Peter noticed some strange readings and a golden hue that surrounded Harry. Shaking off his curiosity, Peter sighed in relief that Harry was unharmed. What had been wrong with him?
Unbeknown to Peter what had happened was that the spell the Dark Lord cast had rebounded against the protective power caused by the deaths of James and Lily Potter and had been reflected back towards himself, wrenching his soul from his body, at the same time as Harry, recognising that the wizard before him had just tried to kill him, lashed out with all the magic he had at his own disposal, destroying the Dark Lord's body and the walls around him. The soul of the Dark Lord, already split in preparation for the foul ritual he intended to complete with the death of Harry, had flown in two directions. One had fled the house, towards the first safe haven it could think of far, far away. The other had attempted to latch itself to the only living thing in the vicinity, a little boy who had the magical protection from the lives of two loving parents, as well as his own magic which would one day equal, and even surpass, the wizard the soul piece had originally come from. So instead of leeching onto the boy and sustaining its existence through him, it was destroyed, absorbed into the boy's own magic. One day, Harry Potter would discover a strange ability to speak to snakes, but for now, he simply rested in the arms of the man he called uncle, exhausted from the battle that had waged inside his own head.
Peter held Harry, unable to believe that the boy was alive and the Dark Lord was dead. He had not accounted for this possibility, so what should he do now? James and Lily were dead because Peter had betrayed them to his Lord, deciding once and for all to align himself to the dark, the side that would win the war, but now?
What was he to do?
Just as the thought occurred to him to send a Patronus message to Dumbledore, to fabricate a tale of events favourable to himself, he heard a pop from the street below, and a panicked cry "James!". Slowly Peter's eyes widened in fear. Sirius Black had arrived.
Acting hastily, he conjured a small, soft mattress and placed Harry upon it. Peter stared at the little boy for just a moment, committing his sweet face to memory, before looking to the side, where the wall had once been, and out into the street below.
Sirius was standing there, staring straight at him. His face still held faint traces of shock, but his features were quickly morphing into abject fury, and as Sirius' foot took a step forwards towards the house, Peter vanished with a loud crack.
Now Peter had to enact some damage control.
A/N: Well, there's Halloween. It's twice the size of the next longest chapter, which is why it's taken nearly a week to get finished, but I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a review letting me know what you think of it so far, and your predictions for what will happen in the future.