-James Potter-
The house was quiet, excepting the whimpers slowly becoming louder as the baby was carried down the stairs to the living room. James smiled at his wife, loving the way she could handle anything, including a squirming boy. As Lily settled on the couch she explained the baby just wouldn't calm down, and he looked so pitiful that she had to bring him down.
"Let me hold him," James said, extending his arms to hold his son. His son. Those two words sounded better than any spell he had uttered or tale he concocted. He cradled the child in his arms, kissing his head, murmuring encouraging things to him.
His son.
James rocked his son till he was asleep.
"It's horrible," Lily exclaimed.
"What is?"
"He is almost a year old," she said, a grin growing on her face, "and he still can't go to bed without being rocked to sleep."
James laughed softly. He surveyed his son's face; it was almost like looking in a mirror, a mirror that reflected what you looked like twenty years ago. Excepting that his son's eyes, though closed at the moment, reflected the eyes of his wife.
His wife.
"What are you so happy about?" Lily queried, noticing the look growing on James's face. "You look like you did when you won the Quidditch Cup at Hogwarts, that mix of pride and elation. It's unmistakable."
"Oh, Lily. This is so much better than anything I ever accomplished or achieved." Tears filling his eyes he continued, "Lily . . . if we hadn't hidden ourselves do you realize what would happen to our beautiful boy?"
She knew. He could tell she knew by the way her eyes brimmed with tears also. He crossed the room and sat next to her on the burlap sofa. James Potter sat his child, Harry, on his lap and engulfed Lily in his arms; so happy this moment had finally arrived.
Then it was over.
There was a loud rapping on the door, but before Lily or James could move it burst to pieces. The man, if you can call him that, who was standing in its place was none other than the tormentor himself.
Lord Voldemort.
"Good evening folks." His vile voice hissed.
Everything happened in an instant, James immediately was on his feet, wand revealed and pushing Harry into Lily's arms.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-"
Their eyes met and in that very last glance they bid a heart-wrenching farewell. Lily spun and stumbled from the room clutching her precious son. James, once sure of their retreat, turned and faced Voldemort. He was only sure of one thing, Harry must live.
James aimed a few curses at Voldemort, who in turn laughed and called from his own wand the death curse. James felt the curse envelope him in a green light, and penetrate his skin, it was telling his body to sleep, eternally.
James let one last sigh from his lips and succumbed to his sleep.
"Lily..."
-End James Potter-
The house was quiet, excepting the whimpers slowly becoming louder as the baby was carried down the stairs to the living room. James smiled at his wife, loving the way she could handle anything, including a squirming boy. As Lily settled on the couch she explained the baby just wouldn't calm down, and he looked so pitiful that she had to bring him down.
"Let me hold him," James said, extending his arms to hold his son. His son. Those two words sounded better than any spell he had uttered or tale he concocted. He cradled the child in his arms, kissing his head, murmuring encouraging things to him.
His son.
James rocked his son till he was asleep.
"It's horrible," Lily exclaimed.
"What is?"
"He is almost a year old," she said, a grin growing on her face, "and he still can't go to bed without being rocked to sleep."
James laughed softly. He surveyed his son's face; it was almost like looking in a mirror, a mirror that reflected what you looked like twenty years ago. Excepting that his son's eyes, though closed at the moment, reflected the eyes of his wife.
His wife.
"What are you so happy about?" Lily queried, noticing the look growing on James's face. "You look like you did when you won the Quidditch Cup at Hogwarts, that mix of pride and elation. It's unmistakable."
"Oh, Lily. This is so much better than anything I ever accomplished or achieved." Tears filling his eyes he continued, "Lily . . . if we hadn't hidden ourselves do you realize what would happen to our beautiful boy?"
She knew. He could tell she knew by the way her eyes brimmed with tears also. He crossed the room and sat next to her on the burlap sofa. James Potter sat his child, Harry, on his lap and engulfed Lily in his arms; so happy this moment had finally arrived.
Then it was over.
There was a loud rapping on the door, but before Lily or James could move it burst to pieces. The man, if you can call him that, who was standing in its place was none other than the tormentor himself.
Lord Voldemort.
"Good evening folks." His vile voice hissed.
Everything happened in an instant, James immediately was on his feet, wand revealed and pushing Harry into Lily's arms.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-"
Their eyes met and in that very last glance they bid a heart-wrenching farewell. Lily spun and stumbled from the room clutching her precious son. James, once sure of their retreat, turned and faced Voldemort. He was only sure of one thing, Harry must live.
James aimed a few curses at Voldemort, who in turn laughed and called from his own wand the death curse. James felt the curse envelope him in a green light, and penetrate his skin, it was telling his body to sleep, eternally.
James let one last sigh from his lips and succumbed to his sleep.
"Lily..."
-End James Potter-