keyword: FIRST defiance. The chapter title partly has to do with the prophecy in Book 5. *born to those who have THRICE DEFIED HIM* Yup. So, this is the first defiance. It's corny, I know.

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Ever since Sirius had left his family when he was sixteen, he had been staying with the Potters during holidays. He promised he would buy his own flat when he got the money.

James's parents had offered Sirius the money, but he had refused to take it each time. This year wouldn't be any different. Sirius still didn't have the money, and James knew his mom and dad would offer it to him, only to bear witness to Sirius's unwavering stubbornness. Or maybe it was pride. The latter certainly seemed more appealing.

James had sent an owl home the day before, making sure it was alright if Lily stayed with them, and his parents had quickly replied to say they would be delighted.

Sirius snorted as the train pulled up to the King's Cross Station, and the Potters gave James a huge hug. *What a perfect family,* he thought.

James introduced Lily to his parents, and then Mrs. Potter turned to Sirius and gave him a hug, just as big. Sirius smiled. By now, he was practically a son to them. And he didn't mind that at all.

Mrs. Potter was definitely more of a mother to him than that sour woman in Grimmauld Place. Sirius just hadn't been royal enough for them – the Blacks. He had become the black sheep of the family ever since the Sorting Hat had told him he wasn't like his mother and father, and sorted him into Gryffindor.

But thanks to Narcissa and Bellatrix and Regulus and who knows how many other family members that spied on him during school and had reported to the family like good little Slytherin children, his whole family had become aware of the fact that Sirius talked to mudbloods, lowered himself to their status, and showed respect for that fool of a Headmaster, Dumbledore. (Not that countless pranks counted for respect, but that was a whole other story.)

Sirius remembered the day when he had come home for the summer holidays, right after his first year had ended, to see that Andromeda's name was no longer on the tapestry that had the family tree embroidered in the fabric. She had been disowned.

As Sirius stood in front of the Potter's home, he silently wished to himself that his name had been erased from the tapestry as well.

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Generation after generation of Potters had lived in this house. It had always been a wealthy family, all of them Gryffindors, all of them in this house. Mr. Potter, and his father, and his father after that, and his father after that, and so on.

They were a pure blood family, but had been despised by many other pure blood families. It hadn't always been that way, though. The Potters had been good friends with the Blacks, that is, until a man named Tom Riddle had given himself a name, and Slytherins and Gryffindors once again went their separate ways.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter had flatly refused to be involved with what they called a racial genocide. Many of the pure families had been contacted and had been given the opportunity to be part of this. Most had joined – of course, except for the Potters, the Weasleys, the Waters' and a few other families.

James didn't seem to worry about whether or not his family was in danger. Sirius wasn't sure if he could really say they were in danger, but he definitely had a different perspective. After all, he had heard what the other families said about the Potters.

Sirius had been shunned for talking to a Potter. James didn't see.

But whether James had seen it coming or not, it came.

On the night of Christmas Eve, the nightmare began.

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Sirius yawned, "I think it's true what they say about turkey making you sleepy."

James snorted. He was tired, too. Lily would be staying in the guest room, and James would be sharing his room with Sirius.

Sirius grabbed a pillow off of James's bed and tossed it onto the floor. James frowned as Sirius laid down on the carpet, and rested his head against the pillow.

"Are you sure you don't want me to bring in a mattress or something? You don't have to sleep on the floor."

Sirius put his hands behind his head and smiled, "Nope, I'm fine. After this, I'll have my own place, and you won't have to worry about me."

James shook his head, "Be realistic, Padfoot. How in the bloody world are you going to get the money for that?"

"I'll get a job soon," he said defensively.

James snorted, and flopped onto his own bed.

Padfoot getting a job? That would never happen.

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The mass of cloaked wizards assembled in Godric's Hollow to listen to their master's instructions. The trees rustled in the silent wind, and a high cruel voice sounded without echo.

"If you have not already heard, we are here to show the families that have rejected us that they will pay for their refusal. Macnair, Rabastan and Crabbe – you will kill the Waters family."

Three wizards nodded, and apparated in a second, grins concealed behind their masks.

"Travers, Goyle, Avery – the Farells."

"Rosier, Rookwood, Karkarrof – the Storms."

"Muliciber, Nott, Jugson – the Junes."

The wizards nodded, but before disapparating, one death eater spoke up, "What about the Potters?"

Voldemort's red eyes looked as if they had been turned to ice. "I will deal with them," he answered with a voice like acid.

The same death eater questioned his master again, "Why not let one of us do it, my lord?"

The creature that was once Tom Riddle turned and rounded on the wizard, who now looked small and pitiful compared to him. "Do you think, Rookwood, that the Dark Lord could do no better of a job than his subjects?"

"Forgive me, my lord."

"Do not doubt me again. The day you doubt me is the day you vanish from this circle. I will kill you."

"I will not doubt again, my lord."

Voldemort turned back to the rest of the death eaters still assembled. "Mr. Potter is an auror that has killed many in these ranks. I will not leave the task to any of you this time. The dark lord knows what he is doing."

The death eaters apparated with their tasks, and Voldemort turned down Godric's Hollow, intending to wipe out the Potters' name.

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Rebecca had stayed at school for the holidays, since her parents were leaving for a trip to France on Christmas Day. It was the night of Christmas Eve, and Rebecca was sleeping soundly in her dormitory.

On that night, her parents were killed – along with numerous other families. Rebecca woke up with a start. She was sure that a flash of green light had awoken her, but nobody was in the dormitory other than her.

Her father was a seer, too. He would have seen it coming. Or at least he would have seen something. The truth was, he had seen something.

He was lying in his bed, dreaming of death, right when the life left his body.

Rebecca did not know her family was dead, but she felt it. She could not shake off the feeling she had. The feeling that the sun might not rise in the morning.

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James opened his eyes to see a frantic Sirius, shaking him by the shoulders.

"James!"

"What?" he asked, slightly irritated.

Sirius did not answer, for the cry of James's mother answered it all. James leapt up, and ran out the door. He shot down the hallways, and into his parents' bedroom. There laid his father, and mother, and…

"Say goodnight, Potter."

Sirius jumped in front of the shocked James and brought out his wand from his pocket. "EXPELLIARMIUS!" he yelled.

The spell ran straight towards Voldemort, but strayed to the left with a wave of his wand.

"Crucio."

Sirius collapsed to the ground, and began to convulse. He let out strangled yells – attempts to voice the pain and utter torture he was enduring.

James never knew the threat of Voldemort had been so real. He never thought of it as much as he should have. Voldemort had steadily risen to power, and James just happened to be in his way. He was just another death – another name on the memorial.

The dark lord raised his wand, this time at James. He was the last Potter. The only thing that kept James from closing his eyes and drawing in his last breath were the cries of Sirius.

"NO!"

Voldemort blinked, his wand raised. Moments from impending death, James had cried out in defiance.

*Why am I still alive?*

The song of the phoenix was heard by both James and the dark lord. Fawkes flew through the open window, announcing the presence of Dumbledore.

Voldemort stared numbly at the phoenix, and with his last moment, he assured James of his death.

"No one defies Lord Voldemort, and lives to tell the tale. I will make sure of that."

And he was gone.

Sirius lay still at last, rapidly breathing, and drowning in pain.

"James?" came a timid voice behind him.

James didn't turn around. He couldn't. He would see the hurt in Lily's eyes, and the tears would make him cry. He looked down at his parents, briefly wising he had suffered the same fate.

But he would, soon enough. He would die. He couldn't cry about it. He wouldn't turn around. He defied Lord Voldemort, and would not live to tell the tale. *Why cry over the dead, if you know you'll die the same way?*

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AN: Ok, ok, I know Remus and rebecca are supposed to be the main characters, but I'm going to have a lot of different parts of the story. This is like the sequel plus the COMPLETE story of the marauders and everybody COMBINED. There might even be a small part with regulus's point of view, and why he tried to run from being a death eater, and Snape's point of view, and why he became a spy.

I know it's hard to follow along with me jumping around like that, but I've been waiting forever to write a story like this. I've been practically STUDYING the HP books to find every bit of info I can get, and gosh darn it, I'm gonna use all of it.