This story is indeed an Alternate Universe story, if you prefer things to stick to the rules, do leave now.
Still here? Good. I'd like to ask you a question. What if Lilly and James Potter never died? What if they lived, and raised Harry? Would he have siblings? Would Sirius stay out of Azkaban? Would Peter be caught? What about everyone else? In order to answer these questions, I'd like to take you back to a very important day. Let's go back to October 31, 1981...
Frank Longbottom watched over his wife Alice's shoulder as she cooed over little Neville, who was gurgling happily. How he wished things could stay this simple forever. He heard a rustling sound and whipped around. No one was there. He walked into the living room, and saw the handle of the front door jiggling ever so slightly. His heart leapt into his throat.
"Alice. It's him. Take Neville and go."
"F-frank, I can't just leave you." She stammered, holding Neville closely as she walked down the hall.
"Just go. Now before he comes in. GO DAMMIT" He whispered harshly at her. Alice nodded and fled but before she got far the door burst open.
There was Voldemort, black robe billowing ominously about him.
"Evening, Longbottom. Give me the boy." Voldemort's deathly tone was enough to make the fierce wizards cower. Frank drew his wand, and pointed it at Voldemort. "I said, give me the boy."
"Never." Frank said, his voice only slightly trembling. He fired a curse at Voldemort, which set off a stream of curses between the two. Finally, Voldemort pointed his wand at Frank, and whispered the killing curse as he had done so many times before.
"Avada Kadrava." Frank was dead before he hit the ground, look of determination frozen in his eyes. Voldemort stepped over the dead body and moved to the kitchen, where Alice was franticly trying to open the kitchen door with trembling hands.
"Give me the boy and I will not harm you, my dear." Alice backed up against the door, her wand in her free hand, Neville in the other.
"Don't kill him, please, please." She begged.
"Hand him over, now!" Alice shook her head and pointed her wand at Voldemort, firing a stunning spell he easily ducked. A few more spells flew between the two before Voldemort finally shot the killing curse at Neville, but Alice threw herself in the way, taking the spell. Voldemort sneered, and fired the curse once more at the boy.
It was then that time stood still.
The jet of green light hit the boy square on the forehead, and bounced off, hitting Voldemort in the chest. Pain wracked his body as the curse began its work. He let out a scream, before his spirit was torn from his body, nothing more then a thin white mist in the air. The force of such a thing was enough to reduce the modest home to rubble. That was exactly what was found, only minutes later when Rebus Hagrid appeared.
It looked like someone had lit fire to the house. That was the only way to explain it. Rebus Hagrid walked through the rubble, pausing at the sight of Frank Longbottom, cold and still. He walked carefully through the rubble, into the kitchen area where he found one year old Neville clutching onto the dead form of his mother. Tears came to Hagrid's eyes, as he scooped Neville into his arms, and touched the portkey in his pocket that Professor Dumbledore had sent with him.
Seconds later, he arrived at the home of Neville's Grandmother. Albus Dumbledore, the only man Voldemort ever feared, was standing quietly in the doorway, a teary eyed Mrs. Longbottom behind him.
"E's sleeping now, Professor." Hagrid said gruffly. "Found 'im clinging to 'is mum. House was near destroyed when I arrived. Frank an' Alice both dead. Can' hardly believe it." Dumbledore gently plucked Neville from Hagrid's arms and handed him to his grandmother.
"Remember what we discussed, Fran." Dumbledore said. Mrs. Longbottom nodded, tears falling down her face, and slowly closed the door after thanking the Professor and Hagrid.
"Now Hagrid, I suppose we're entitled to a bit of celebration before morning. I hear Sirius Black is throwing quite the bash as we speak." Hagrid nodded, and they headed off to celebrate the fall of the darkest wizard of the age.
Lily Potter was tired. She had been up since early that morning tending to a very fussy Harry. He'd been restless, and nothing she did seemed to appease him. She heard the door downstairs open then close and knew James was home. His footsteps echoed off the silent stairwell, and he appeared in the doorway to Harry's nursery, hair ruffled and the top two buttons of his white button up shirt undone.
"Hey."
"Hi" Lily said with a small smile.
"What have you two been up to today?" He asked
"Urgh. Something's wrong with Harry. I can't get him to settle down."
"I'm sure it's just
some baby thing. It'll pass by morning."
"It had better.
I'm so tired." James smiled.
"Well, I sure hope you don't, seeing as today is Halloween, and I was planning on celebrating with you."
"What type of celebration?" Lily asked, eyebrow cocked while she gently rocked Harry.
"Well, I was thinking maybe we could go out with Harry and see if we can't get some free candy. Or we could just stay here if you want."
"You know, I think a walk just might be the thing. Let me get Harry ready." Lily put Harry down gently in his cot, and pulled an outfit from his drawers. She quickly dressed him, and walked downstairs where James was waiting. He draped a cloak around her shoulders, and they left.
The chill fall air whipped around Lily's face as she pulled the cloak tighter to shield Harry from the wind. After they had walked a few blocks, one of the Aurors who worked with James appeared.
"Potter! Voldemort was at the Longbottoms, you're needed!" James nodded, and kissed Lily goodbye before he disapperated.
Lily walked the few blocks back to their house, and placed Harry back in his cot where he fell asleep quietly. A few minutes later, James walked in the door, smile on his face.
"It's over, Lils. It's over. He's gone." Lily smiled and pulled James into a hug.
"Who killed him? Were there any causalities?" Lily asked.
"Frank and Alice. Seems the prophecy took effect. Only their boy lived." James' eyes looked downcast. "He's with his grandmother now, from what I can gather. He has a lightning bolt shaped scar, from the curse."
"Oh poor thing. Frank and Alice were wonderful people."
"You know, there wasn't even much of a body left behind. Basically just a huge pile of ashes inside a robe. Too many damn preservation spells." Someone opened the door.
"James! Lily! Voldemort's gone!" Sirius Black bust in, still wearing his motorbike jacket and gloves.
The night was filled with happy celebrations, fond remembrances of the people who had been lost, and toasts to Neville Longbottom, the Boy Who Lived.
Everyone knew they would never forget this day, October 31, 1981.
Over the next few days, quite a few things happened. Peter Pettigrew was indeed found out as the spy, when he foolishly exposed the dark mark, only slightly faded on his arm. He was shipped off to Azkaban to await the Dementor's Kiss. When the Minister of Magic position opened up, Albus Dumbledore was offered the job. He politely refused, insisting he wanted to remain Hogwarts' Headmaster. Neville was raised by his Grandmother, away from the press quietly, so he could grow up as normally as possible. Everything it seemed, was going to be okay.
There you have it, the very first chapter of the story. (: I'm not sure if I'll continue with it, but maybe. Any and all feedback would be welcomed.