Unforgettable Truths.
Disclaimer: Nothing of this ever has, or will, be mine. Even the things I create. The characters J.K Rowling created are just too powerfully real for me to take any credit.
I know this scene has probably been done to death, but I just had to write something sad, and a roar of outrage would resound around The Sugar Quill if anything happened to the heroes and heroine of H.P. and the gang.
As the haunting words of love rang true in the air, Harry Potter squirmed, as if asking for his mother's assurance once again. His shock of black hair lay, or rather sprawled, across his head, mirror-imaging his father James' at that moment, and he fitfully tossed in his sleep.
"Honey, don't cry. Hush, bubs, s'okay."
The melodious harmonies of her lullaby resounded around the room, and deep love could be heard in her voice.
"As the daylight fades
And the light turns to dark
Know that I will love you
And forever bear my mark.
The birds are no longer calling
The stars no longer shining
But death is forever falling
A signature forever signing
And just to be loved,
Is the greatest gift of all
Even if I'm not here
To catch you when you fall
If the trees all remain fruitless
If you try, but cannot run
Remember always, please,
You are my one and only son.
The words of love calmed the small child, and he sighed, turned over and fell into what was most likely a warm, deep sleep without dreams.
"Hey, Lil, why don't you ever sing me a lullaby? Don't you love me?" James asked, pulling a puppy-dog eyes look that he always used when trying to get Lily's sympathetic/playful side to emerge.
"You," she stated, shoving him in the shoulder, "aren't worth the trouble. Harry, however, is the pride of my heart, and therefore deserves it."
"Aw, Lil, don't be mean!"
"I'm not, and you know it," she said, calmly walking across the strangely dark room to the squashy armchair she had called hers and hers alone, until a tall, dark stranger (aka James) entered her life and possessions changed. 'Hers' was now 'Theirs'.
The room in which the two sat was usually a bright, cheerful place, bubbling with the happiness and energy of a young family with a year old son. Tonight, however, the whole of their surroundings had been changed to a dangerous and foreboding scene.
As if predicting the forthcomings of that night, the weather in Godric's Hollow had become dark, dismal and overcast. Cold winds rattled a slightly loose door and no stars were shining in the nighttime sky.
Lily and James Potter, who usually both radiated an aura unique to their own, were somehow devoid of that for the time being. Harry, who was nearly always an agreeable, healthy child, had been throwing quite a lot of tantrums and refusing to go to sleep lately, as if he was dreading something, and both Lily and James had suspected he had some sort of sixth sense. The day before their pet cat (named, ironically enough, Rover) had been run over, Harry had thrown a horrible tantrum, and refused to do anything he was told.
James walked over to Lily and sat on the arm of the chair.
"Hey Lil, all jokes aside; I've been wondering why Peter agreed to be Secret Keeper. I would've expected him to have turned tail and fled at the thought of it. It just…doesn't seem right."
" James, wasn't that the whole idea? Voldemort would never suspect Peter because of those traits. It's just not logical. Besides, we've got back- up."
" But only to help us run away. We need to fight him… if we don't, who will?"
"Look, I just…don't know."
* * *
2 hours later…
The weather in Godric's Hollow had failed to improve. In fact, it had worsened. Icy winds howled, daring anyone to brave their wintery blow and rain came bucketing down, drumming on the roof and smearing windows with transparent, shimmering veils. Some showers of rain are gentle, happy things that improve anyone's mood, but this was different. It came, dampening more than the physical things.
A darkness had descended upon Godric's Hollow, and a feeling of impending danger was hovering in the air. A danger that was all too real.
Lily lay draped over James, her radiant red hair cascading down her shoulders and onto James' chest, an arm stretched across to place a small, dainty yet strong hand on his shoulder. A shallow yet slow and even breathing confirmed she was asleep.
James, however, was in his usual armchair nap position: arms and legs everywhere, mouth hanging open and hair practically standing on end. A soft snoring emitted from the undignified figure sprawled on the armchair, and that was the only thing to suggest he was alive apart from the slight rise and fall of his chest.
A cry broke the silence, and Lily immediately snapped awake. She glanced down at her husband, sceptically raising her eyebrows.
"Pig."
Harry, apparently, was not happy. As she picked up the small child, his cries were immediately silenced, and he stopped squirming.
"You," she said playfully, prodding Harry's nose, "are a very naughty boy. What's got you so upset, huh?"
She held Harry for a short while, cooing softly and gently swinging him in her arms. He quickly began to nod off to sleep again, his body going limp and his breathing evening out to slow, rhythmic, shallow inhale and exhalations, and she gently placed him back in his sleeper.
As she cautiously tiptoed back over to James, (the ever-hovering darkness was beginning to get to her) she chanced a look out the window. She gasped and froze to the spot. It couldn't be!
It most certainly was.
Lord Voldemort, a domineering presence, tall, too thin to be real and unusually snake-like in facial appearance, stood calmly staring straight at her. There was absolutely no doubt, he saw her clearly.
He made a few face and hand signals that Lily interpreted as: You. Will. Die.
She backed up a few steps and hissed at James.
"James, get up NOW!"
He unintelligibly mumbled something about pancakes with Magi-maple for breakfast and turned over.
"Get UP! RIGHT NOW!!!" she hissed through gritted teeth, too scared to move.
"Lil, s'not morning yet, go away."
"Voldemort is at the window, staring at me," she said slowly and clearly, glaring at James.
"Holy…" he exclaimed, leaping out of his spot immediately and wildly searching every window in the room.
A malicious grin spread slowly across Lord Voldemort's face as he watched the frightened couple through the window, completely unaffected by the rain. And suddenly, he disappeared.
"Holy smokes, where the hell is he?" Lily asked James, more scared by the second.
"Right here, my sweet."
The voice was colder than the outside weather, and too familiar for comfort. That and the fact that it was coming from right behind her made it the scariest thing Lily had ever encountered.
"Lily, run! Get Harry and leave!"
"I can't just leave you!"
"That's right. Lovers should fight, and die together," Lord Voldemort stated, his voice cold and harsh, yet a hint of anticipation was seeping through. He was obviously enjoying these last few moments of their life, but planning to put and end to it fairly soon.
"Lily, go," James urged, pushing her away towards Harry.
"I love you," she whispered, and scampered across the room to collect Harry and whisk him to safety.
Voldemort pulled out his wand and pointed it at her retreating back, opened his mouth and…
"No!" James leapt between Voldemort's wand and Lily.
"So the pesky boy goes first. Chivalry must be well and truly dead."
By now Lily had fled the room and was on her way to the prepared Portkey, Harry safe in her arms. Tears streamed down her face as she ran, hoping against hope that she would see her husband again.
Halfway to the Port-Key, a blinding flash of green stopped her. She stood; listening for any noises that might tell her which wizard had performed the Avada Kadavra curse. Unforgivable yet necessary with the recent turn of events.
Malicious laughter filled the air, louder and louder, and with each gale, Lily's heart sank. Her husband, her heart, had been destroyed by the scum of the earth. Nothing was worth living for, nothing. Except…
"Harry," she muttered before turning and fleeing towards the PortKey that would take her to Professor Dumbledore's side, no matter where he was. Safety was only a hundred metres away, fifty…
"Got it!" she said triumphantly, holding up the gnarled stick with 'Safety lies yonder' engraved on the side, waiting for the pull from behind the navel to take her, and Harry, to safety.
It never came. She stood there holding the Portkey for a while, staring in disbelief. There was no other way out, Disapparating was no longer possible because Voldemort had found a way to track their every move, and now this way was blocked. Hope diminished to nothing.
She pulled out her wand, knowing there was no other way to gain safety other than hoping to defeat him in a duel, which was extremely unlikely.
Voldemort appeared again, but this time choosing a spot no more than a metre away from Lily, facing towards her.
"Do you really think I was stupid enough to believe you wouldn't prepare a PortKey? I took the liberty of disabling it myself, in case you were wondering."
She slowly backed away, fear in her eyes and a writhing feeling in her stomach that she knew was the goodness in her heart recoiling from the overwhelming evil this, man or creature, she couldn't quite decide, radiated around him.
He took a few, quick, long strides and a lightning-quick hand shot out to grab her wrist. Lily recoiled, struggling and screaming, kicked and hit home. She shot free of his disgusting grip and fled towards her home, Harry still in her arms. She knew that she would never live to see the sky again, to breathe the spring air that had annoyed James so much with it's sweet, floral aroma, or to watch her son grow up.
At least he'll get the chance to turn Dudley into a pig, she thought bitterly, thinking of the life her son would have to live if he made it out of this alive, fat thing, he'll probably never have to lift a finger towards housework in his life.
And as she neared the house, she felt the world crash down on her, and she prepared to do what a she had to do.
* * *
As the baby was scooped up into the man's arms, an invisible, yet still felt by the aura surrounding it, presence sighed and turned away. The man was tall, towering over everything, the baby appearing minute compared to the giant that was holding him, but Lily knew better. Hagrid was no more a monster than she.
Lily knew that as a spirit she would have no more chances to see her son; these precious few moments were scarcely enough, but as a rule, they were all she had. The after-life was a complicated thing, too dreary and confusing to explain, and the rules were harsh, and yet…fair somehow.
Hagrid slowly walked away, his shoulders shaking slightly, and Lily could tell he was sobbing. He left where the door once was and disappeared round the side of the pile of rubble that James and Lily had, moments earlier, called home.
The growl of a motorcycle broke the silence, rose to a deafening roar and slowly diminished again. But just before the last remnants of noise died down, the wind could be heard sighing, the trees swaying all in one motion in time to an unheard lullaby.
As the daylight fades
And the light turns to dark
Know that I will love you
And forever bear my mark
The birds are no longer calling,
The stars no longer shining,
But death is forever falling,
A signature forever signing
And just to be loved,
Is the greatest gift of all,
Even if I'm not here,
To catch you when you fall
If the trees all remain fruitless,
If you try but cannot run,
Remember always, please,
You are my one and only son
Disclaimer: Nothing of this ever has, or will, be mine. Even the things I create. The characters J.K Rowling created are just too powerfully real for me to take any credit.
I know this scene has probably been done to death, but I just had to write something sad, and a roar of outrage would resound around The Sugar Quill if anything happened to the heroes and heroine of H.P. and the gang.
As the haunting words of love rang true in the air, Harry Potter squirmed, as if asking for his mother's assurance once again. His shock of black hair lay, or rather sprawled, across his head, mirror-imaging his father James' at that moment, and he fitfully tossed in his sleep.
"Honey, don't cry. Hush, bubs, s'okay."
The melodious harmonies of her lullaby resounded around the room, and deep love could be heard in her voice.
"As the daylight fades
And the light turns to dark
Know that I will love you
And forever bear my mark.
The birds are no longer calling
The stars no longer shining
But death is forever falling
A signature forever signing
And just to be loved,
Is the greatest gift of all
Even if I'm not here
To catch you when you fall
If the trees all remain fruitless
If you try, but cannot run
Remember always, please,
You are my one and only son.
The words of love calmed the small child, and he sighed, turned over and fell into what was most likely a warm, deep sleep without dreams.
"Hey, Lil, why don't you ever sing me a lullaby? Don't you love me?" James asked, pulling a puppy-dog eyes look that he always used when trying to get Lily's sympathetic/playful side to emerge.
"You," she stated, shoving him in the shoulder, "aren't worth the trouble. Harry, however, is the pride of my heart, and therefore deserves it."
"Aw, Lil, don't be mean!"
"I'm not, and you know it," she said, calmly walking across the strangely dark room to the squashy armchair she had called hers and hers alone, until a tall, dark stranger (aka James) entered her life and possessions changed. 'Hers' was now 'Theirs'.
The room in which the two sat was usually a bright, cheerful place, bubbling with the happiness and energy of a young family with a year old son. Tonight, however, the whole of their surroundings had been changed to a dangerous and foreboding scene.
As if predicting the forthcomings of that night, the weather in Godric's Hollow had become dark, dismal and overcast. Cold winds rattled a slightly loose door and no stars were shining in the nighttime sky.
Lily and James Potter, who usually both radiated an aura unique to their own, were somehow devoid of that for the time being. Harry, who was nearly always an agreeable, healthy child, had been throwing quite a lot of tantrums and refusing to go to sleep lately, as if he was dreading something, and both Lily and James had suspected he had some sort of sixth sense. The day before their pet cat (named, ironically enough, Rover) had been run over, Harry had thrown a horrible tantrum, and refused to do anything he was told.
James walked over to Lily and sat on the arm of the chair.
"Hey Lil, all jokes aside; I've been wondering why Peter agreed to be Secret Keeper. I would've expected him to have turned tail and fled at the thought of it. It just…doesn't seem right."
" James, wasn't that the whole idea? Voldemort would never suspect Peter because of those traits. It's just not logical. Besides, we've got back- up."
" But only to help us run away. We need to fight him… if we don't, who will?"
"Look, I just…don't know."
* * *
2 hours later…
The weather in Godric's Hollow had failed to improve. In fact, it had worsened. Icy winds howled, daring anyone to brave their wintery blow and rain came bucketing down, drumming on the roof and smearing windows with transparent, shimmering veils. Some showers of rain are gentle, happy things that improve anyone's mood, but this was different. It came, dampening more than the physical things.
A darkness had descended upon Godric's Hollow, and a feeling of impending danger was hovering in the air. A danger that was all too real.
Lily lay draped over James, her radiant red hair cascading down her shoulders and onto James' chest, an arm stretched across to place a small, dainty yet strong hand on his shoulder. A shallow yet slow and even breathing confirmed she was asleep.
James, however, was in his usual armchair nap position: arms and legs everywhere, mouth hanging open and hair practically standing on end. A soft snoring emitted from the undignified figure sprawled on the armchair, and that was the only thing to suggest he was alive apart from the slight rise and fall of his chest.
A cry broke the silence, and Lily immediately snapped awake. She glanced down at her husband, sceptically raising her eyebrows.
"Pig."
Harry, apparently, was not happy. As she picked up the small child, his cries were immediately silenced, and he stopped squirming.
"You," she said playfully, prodding Harry's nose, "are a very naughty boy. What's got you so upset, huh?"
She held Harry for a short while, cooing softly and gently swinging him in her arms. He quickly began to nod off to sleep again, his body going limp and his breathing evening out to slow, rhythmic, shallow inhale and exhalations, and she gently placed him back in his sleeper.
As she cautiously tiptoed back over to James, (the ever-hovering darkness was beginning to get to her) she chanced a look out the window. She gasped and froze to the spot. It couldn't be!
It most certainly was.
Lord Voldemort, a domineering presence, tall, too thin to be real and unusually snake-like in facial appearance, stood calmly staring straight at her. There was absolutely no doubt, he saw her clearly.
He made a few face and hand signals that Lily interpreted as: You. Will. Die.
She backed up a few steps and hissed at James.
"James, get up NOW!"
He unintelligibly mumbled something about pancakes with Magi-maple for breakfast and turned over.
"Get UP! RIGHT NOW!!!" she hissed through gritted teeth, too scared to move.
"Lil, s'not morning yet, go away."
"Voldemort is at the window, staring at me," she said slowly and clearly, glaring at James.
"Holy…" he exclaimed, leaping out of his spot immediately and wildly searching every window in the room.
A malicious grin spread slowly across Lord Voldemort's face as he watched the frightened couple through the window, completely unaffected by the rain. And suddenly, he disappeared.
"Holy smokes, where the hell is he?" Lily asked James, more scared by the second.
"Right here, my sweet."
The voice was colder than the outside weather, and too familiar for comfort. That and the fact that it was coming from right behind her made it the scariest thing Lily had ever encountered.
"Lily, run! Get Harry and leave!"
"I can't just leave you!"
"That's right. Lovers should fight, and die together," Lord Voldemort stated, his voice cold and harsh, yet a hint of anticipation was seeping through. He was obviously enjoying these last few moments of their life, but planning to put and end to it fairly soon.
"Lily, go," James urged, pushing her away towards Harry.
"I love you," she whispered, and scampered across the room to collect Harry and whisk him to safety.
Voldemort pulled out his wand and pointed it at her retreating back, opened his mouth and…
"No!" James leapt between Voldemort's wand and Lily.
"So the pesky boy goes first. Chivalry must be well and truly dead."
By now Lily had fled the room and was on her way to the prepared Portkey, Harry safe in her arms. Tears streamed down her face as she ran, hoping against hope that she would see her husband again.
Halfway to the Port-Key, a blinding flash of green stopped her. She stood; listening for any noises that might tell her which wizard had performed the Avada Kadavra curse. Unforgivable yet necessary with the recent turn of events.
Malicious laughter filled the air, louder and louder, and with each gale, Lily's heart sank. Her husband, her heart, had been destroyed by the scum of the earth. Nothing was worth living for, nothing. Except…
"Harry," she muttered before turning and fleeing towards the PortKey that would take her to Professor Dumbledore's side, no matter where he was. Safety was only a hundred metres away, fifty…
"Got it!" she said triumphantly, holding up the gnarled stick with 'Safety lies yonder' engraved on the side, waiting for the pull from behind the navel to take her, and Harry, to safety.
It never came. She stood there holding the Portkey for a while, staring in disbelief. There was no other way out, Disapparating was no longer possible because Voldemort had found a way to track their every move, and now this way was blocked. Hope diminished to nothing.
She pulled out her wand, knowing there was no other way to gain safety other than hoping to defeat him in a duel, which was extremely unlikely.
Voldemort appeared again, but this time choosing a spot no more than a metre away from Lily, facing towards her.
"Do you really think I was stupid enough to believe you wouldn't prepare a PortKey? I took the liberty of disabling it myself, in case you were wondering."
She slowly backed away, fear in her eyes and a writhing feeling in her stomach that she knew was the goodness in her heart recoiling from the overwhelming evil this, man or creature, she couldn't quite decide, radiated around him.
He took a few, quick, long strides and a lightning-quick hand shot out to grab her wrist. Lily recoiled, struggling and screaming, kicked and hit home. She shot free of his disgusting grip and fled towards her home, Harry still in her arms. She knew that she would never live to see the sky again, to breathe the spring air that had annoyed James so much with it's sweet, floral aroma, or to watch her son grow up.
At least he'll get the chance to turn Dudley into a pig, she thought bitterly, thinking of the life her son would have to live if he made it out of this alive, fat thing, he'll probably never have to lift a finger towards housework in his life.
And as she neared the house, she felt the world crash down on her, and she prepared to do what a she had to do.
* * *
As the baby was scooped up into the man's arms, an invisible, yet still felt by the aura surrounding it, presence sighed and turned away. The man was tall, towering over everything, the baby appearing minute compared to the giant that was holding him, but Lily knew better. Hagrid was no more a monster than she.
Lily knew that as a spirit she would have no more chances to see her son; these precious few moments were scarcely enough, but as a rule, they were all she had. The after-life was a complicated thing, too dreary and confusing to explain, and the rules were harsh, and yet…fair somehow.
Hagrid slowly walked away, his shoulders shaking slightly, and Lily could tell he was sobbing. He left where the door once was and disappeared round the side of the pile of rubble that James and Lily had, moments earlier, called home.
The growl of a motorcycle broke the silence, rose to a deafening roar and slowly diminished again. But just before the last remnants of noise died down, the wind could be heard sighing, the trees swaying all in one motion in time to an unheard lullaby.
As the daylight fades
And the light turns to dark
Know that I will love you
And forever bear my mark
The birds are no longer calling,
The stars no longer shining,
But death is forever falling,
A signature forever signing
And just to be loved,
Is the greatest gift of all,
Even if I'm not here,
To catch you when you fall
If the trees all remain fruitless,
If you try but cannot run,
Remember always, please,
You are my one and only son