Title: The Family

Author: curlytop

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and fictional world created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. However I do stake claim to all Original Characters and situations that otherwise appear in this fan fiction story. (Laymen's Terms: All characters and situations that do not appear or occur in J.K Rowling's Harry Potter series or the consequent films by Warner Bros. are mine.) Insert the evil laugh of Mandark from Dexter's laboratory here, please.

Pairings: HP/DM

Author's Notes: This is an A.U. fic, based on J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter Series. It is rated PG-13, and I do believe it will stay that way. It may advance to R, but I doubt it.

Warnings: This chapter may squick. (English translation: There is a bit of gore and blood). This fic contains slash romances and relationships. If homosexual relationships do not fall into stories you enjoy reading then I do not recommend reading this fic.

Chapter One

Godrics Hallow lay calm and quiet in the late evening of All Hallows Eve. There were no lights to be seen on any path leading to the fine home which sat carefully on carved mounds of soft grass and rolling hills, practically melting into the background. Only light from the full moon, sitting boldly in the clear night sky, highlighted the carefully hidden home of Mr. and Mrs. James and Lilly Potter. Inside the home, the décor was warm and plush. Lanterns and candles lit hallways and entrances. The titillating aroma of pumpkin, cinnamon, and nutmeg wafted throughout the warm air, and soft laughter and chatter could be heard above the tinker of flatware and a baby cooing. Pictures of moving figures and portraits swayed and grinned in the enchanting atmosphere, glad to forget on the holiday; glad that all was well.

Beginning notes of the melodic "Witch of the Glen" (2), starting in a quiet tenor, filtered out from a glowing dining room and shuffled footsteps made they're way through the house in fine rhythm. A sweet voice full of laughter and love joined her tenor and she and the bundle of joy cradled in her arms burst through the arched doorway into the comfy den twirling about in a dance, jesting in song. Baby Potter laughed along with his mother and father and then sat on his mother's lap; he nestled back into her embrace. As soon as the final notes of the enchanting tune left the fair witch's lips, she dipped her head and firmly kissed her son's cheek laughing.

"Ah, James", she sighed content. "I simply love this holiday." Lilly reached across the small gap from the love seat to her husband and gave his hand a squeeze. James had sat himself on a large ottoman before his wife and child, playing with the baby's feet. He looked up from his task at hand and into his wife's bright eyes and his mouth spread into a radiant smile. It couldn't be helped, really. Lilly's joy was his joy and he felt as if he were bursting with a happiness and energy that was surely oozing out of him, charging the air.

"I know dear." He simply replied watching her eyes sparkle and dance in the candlelight. The day was a sacred holiday and he was sure the spirits of past relatives and ancestors had returned home to celebrate with them, give their blessings for the New Year and simply enjoy being home again. Tension in the house had been high early into the year due to their world having fallen into a war. Many streets all over the Wizarding World resembled theirs tonight; quiet and dark with small celebrations taking place within safe walls.

The Potters had been at their current residence for quite some time without much outside contact. They were in hiding and only spoke with two to three other people tops and even then on an infrequent basis. The war had been harsh on the Potter Generations and now Godrics Hallow kept safe the last known living blood Potters.

The house lapsed into a nice quiet with only the trickling water from the indoor fountain sat in the foyer to sooth their worries. And their worries were many. There was a severely powerful Dark Wizard, widely known as The Dark Lord, after their blood and their side was hard put to stay one step ahead. The taint of a war fought so intricately close to each and every person, there was now so little trust to be had in anyone other than themselves and a few close friends, what with The Dark Lord's masterful manipulations, networks of spies and support and most notably the blatant threat of severe and excruciating torture. Their friends and neighbors were paying the price for The Dark Lord's wrath and mission, but there was little they could do--not if they wanted to keep alive. They would have gladly rejoined the brunt of the battle, but their son had to be protected. The Dark Lord specifically wanted Baby Potter dead and with sadistic effort did he take to the task of finding the wayward family.

Sometimes there at the Hallow it was easy to forget the danger they were in whilst inside the walls of such a magical home so full of love and comfort. No one ever phoned or rang at the door, for no one knew they were there. Even if one stood right before the house practically on the doorstep, they would not have a clue they were at Godrics Hallow. Their location was under the protection of an ancient spell called the Fidelus Charm which kept their location secret and safe barring the Secret Keeper would not divulge said information. The Secret Keeper was secret and sworn to secrecy, their location was secret, and for now they were safe. No one but Lilly, James, their leader in the war, Albus Dumbledore, and the Secret keeper knew the location of this family.

But nothing's alright (01)

Secret? Safe? So then, why was there someone lurking just outside, creeping around the Hallow; murmuring under breath and flicking about a long piece of smooth wood? This tall stranger had been there for quite some time and even joined briefly in song while he circled the home testing the security and planting some security of his own. He too was nearly tipped over in glee and anticipation. He watched from a distance as the family ate a scrummy looking dinner of Cornish hen, mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, and seven layered salad made complete with pumpkin pie topped with whipped cream and vanilla ice cream for afters.

The stranger smirked. He too would have his fill this evening and assure his destiny. The child, fair like his mother, shook his unruly black head of hair, undoubtedly inherited from his unruly father, cooed into his mother's chest, once again catching the stranger's eye. This may not be what the war comes down to but the child was a big mile stone in his eyes. Yes, definitely a rebuttal to his plans. With it eliminated he would breathe a bit easier and who knows, it might put him in a kinder disposition for a day or two. Yes, it was almost time.

Fallish Pixies were now dancing above their heads and near the ceiling to the Tam Lin (2) rolling out the Wizarding Wireless atop the mantle piece. Others carried grapes in their long spindly three fingered hands as they danced and lounged near sources of heat or frolicked in the indoor shrubbery, fountain, and various bowls of fruit. Baby Potter rested wide eyed and giggly in a lined basket on the love seat watching his parents dance before the fire.

Lilly's eyes had fallen closed and her head lay rest upon her husband's chest. James gently held his beloved close and guided them around the bricked area before the flames. The music was coming to a close and James dipped his wife with a lovely kiss upon her lips and a quiet "I love you". James gazed upon her as her lips parted in a delight but only the sudden sound of the front door banging open and pixie's shrieks met his ears.

Nothing is fine (1)

"Wha . . .!" James gasped. A harsh cold wind swept through the house sending chills far into the spine and souls of those within. For a split moment all sound seemed to cease and time seemed to slow. A dark figure appeared in the arch way from the foyer. The hood of the stranger's pitch black cloak was drawn up and the only thing visible was the demon red eyes peering out.

A sharp in take of breathe snapped everything back to reality. In a flash both Lilly and James had drawn their wands. Baby Potter was in mothers arms wrapped in the basket linens, and The Dark Lord let out a high pitched laugh that sparked a fear in both their souls. It hadn't been long enough, since they'd last heard terrible sound.

Throwing a protective shield around his wife and child, James yelled, "Lilly, take Harry and run!" His heart was pounding in his chest, the adrenaline of the moment taking over his senses.

"It's Him!" Lilly gasped in a harsh whisper, a bit too fazed and stunned. Her eyes were wide and riveted to the man before her and he stared right back. When his eyes sidled down to the buddle pressed against her chest, James gave a sharp nudge toward the arch leading to the back hallway and stairs.

"Go! Run, I'll hold him off-," James swiftly intercepted whatever spell The Dark Lord had thrown in Lilly's direction and in a flash she was gone out the den's back and up the stairs. He felt the tingly magic of a shield cast over his body with great love from his wife as she left. He grounded his nerves and nearly overwhelming anxiety as he looked into the eyes of his enemy.

"You can't win against me James. You can't stop destiny." Curses flew between the two powerful wizards charging the air. They ducked around furniture and walls which were soon filled with holes and patches of burning flames. But James found he was no match. The Dark Lord was a severely powerful wizard, terrible in his strength and skill. He had never dueled against the man and was simply amazed and greatly dismayed by the wizard. He had never felt so beaten, and it had barely been two minutes of battle. The Dark Lord had tried to break into his mind several times already; James felt completely torn. 'Just a bit longer,' he thought, "Lilly needs- . . ." Another cry and cackle from somewhere very near by sent him spiraling into darkness as he swore the world had just exploded around him.

The Dark Lord really wanted to continue with the decimation of one James Potter. There were so many things about this man that he couldn't stand; he was feeling the urge to physically bash his head in. But as it seemed the ceiling and floors had done that for him, he realized a minute too many had been wasted bludgering the fool. He could feel Lilly on the air running about upstairs. He could practically taste her fear and with a grin he made his way up stairs giving no more notice to the burning pile of stone behind him.

Lilly meanwhile, had sped to the nearest port key as she left the den only to find that it didn't work. Alarmed she checked the nearest alarm key. It was malfunctioning as well, and if she didn't know better those were red distress sparks going off outside her window, which could only mean one thing-- interceptors. How long had The Dark Lord been lurking about outside? How long?! How was this--?! Lilly's mind was screaming as she went swiftly to the next location of port keys and alarm keys, only to find the same results. There would have to be a manual escape. As she made her way toward the adjoining door to the nursery, the house shook greatly from what she could only deem a strong blast. Another eerie silence filled the house and she knew he was on his way.

Suppressing screams like the cries from she'd heard carried up the stairs earlier, Lilly bolted through the adjoining door, spelled it and the easily accessible hall door shut and locked. She quickly suited up in a baby's sling that would keep her child secure to her chest, and then opened the window. She'd no idea if followers to The Dark Lord were laying in wait outside, but that were the risk she had to take. As she grabbed James's broom which was propped next to the window for means of an emergency escape, her eye caught the eerie red light under door. Before she could kick off the nursery door smashed open with such force, she was thrown head first into the window sill.

A deep chuckle could be heard somewhere near the doorway. Lilly crawled onto her wobbly knees staggering up as quickly as she could. Moisture that could only be blood was felt wetting the top of her head, and the room seemed to stand on tilt.

"It's time Lilly." The Dark Lord glided further into the room, red eyes bright and hood thrown back to reveal a rather handsome man. His pale pink lips were twisted in a smirk forming an insufferably cute dimple in his left cheek.

"I will not let you take my child, Thomas!" Her eyes were ablaze with anger, frustration, and many other suppressed emotions. The Dark Lord nearly flinched under the flames. Whether his lips parted in response or spell, Lilly for once, was faster.

"No!" She cried with a small stabbing motion. The Dark Lord flew into the wall behind him and stumbled. She knew she didn't have the time to make it out the window with the now broken broomstick, but she would not let him have her child, she refused! Quickly she removed Harry from her breast and placed him in the crib behind her with a quick kiss and whisper. "I love you."

A sharp pain mercilessly ripped through her back tearing her diagonally from shoulder to hip. She cried out and her knees buckled, but she didn't fall. Using the crib as a crutch she turned around to see The Dark Lord at his ready and cold laughter flickering within those hellish orbs.

He was rather fond of their past duels. Lilly was a feisty one. He could never get enough of her growls in frustration, or the sight of that red liquid adorning her body; the same coppery life which now ran down her wand arm dripping into the crib. Consequently, he was feeling very nostalgic.

"I'm afraid I don't have the time for a duel," he said breaking through a pretty strong charm she'd managed to cast upon him through her pain. "Nor the patience," he finished matter-a-factly. This is too important. Then with a small but violently quick movement a satisfying cry met his ears. He couldn't help the grin.

Lilly gapped at the wand on the floor; severed along with the hand that had held it. A sob escaped her as she wrenched her eyes from the sight to the advancing devil before her, slipping in the pooling mess at her feet, her body shuddered violently. Cut my life into pieces, this is my last resort (1). She flung herself at the Dark Lord, knowing for some reason he'd catch her.

"No! Not Harry! Not Harry! Please-I'll do anything! Please!" She pleaded into his chest.

For some reason he wanted to kiss her then. Perhaps for old times sake, who knew, but it was not a reaction he wanted to deal with at the moment. "Stand aside, Li-! Stand aside, silly girl! Stand aside!" He roared feeling enraged at the sudden emotions that had come upon him. He knew it was her fault; she could bewitch a man so . . .

He looked down at the torn figure wetting his chest with tears and blood. Her lips seemed to be moving in a silent prayer-- but witches don't pray. Who knew what shit she was invoking. Throwing her from him he back slapped her with a significantly brief Cruciatus Curse which sufficiently stopped her spell casting in favor of silent screams. Then with a burst of wandless magic he blasted her into a nursery wall that crumbled burying her.

Her body, now hidden from view, became quickly of less importance as she no longer stood between him and his target—his destiny. The child in the crib seemed a bit excited as he approached the basket. It lay on its back and its arms waving in the air. It reached for whatever it was he thought he saw and it smiled.

When the Dark Lord pointed his wand into the child's face, it reached for this as well, touching the tip with its pudgy fingers. "Quit it." He grumbled slightly, tapping the fingers away and he pressed its tip to Harry's forehead.

'This was supposed to bring his down fall?' He thought, peering into the child's eyes, so very much like his mother's. This insufferably cute ball of slobber and nappies was supposed to vanquish him? "Puh-lease."

As if giving a toast to this death, he finally whispered in a reverent voice, "Avada Kedavra."

A bright wispy flash of green pierced the child's forehead and the fragile body arched painfully off the crib floor. The Dark Lord stood up lowering his wand slightly to watch the demise of his prophesied rival. The green curse seemed to fill the child's body swirling behind those haunting emerald globes, giving them a most unnatural light and seeping out of its gapped mouth like a poisonous gas. As the life slowly seem to fade from those electric orbs they blinked suddenly and the babe took in a harsh breathe of air.

Completely shocked the Dark Lord stumbled back a step eyes wide as he observed in an instant, the green curse retract back into the mouth, leave the eyes, and shoot with a burst of bright green light out of the child's forehead and smack dab into his chest. Suffocation. (1) It hurt in so many ways. Splinters of pain rushed through the veins of his body, cutting him. He threw his raven head back in an outcry of inconceivable agony; mouth agape, throat and lungs screaming for air. No breathing (1). The eerie green light spilled out the many fissures furrowing across his flesh, filling the room, again enveloping the child who now watched the spectacle in wide eyed wonder. The fallen Lord was being ripped apart, his only hope to black out from the pain.

Crack! He erupted in a violent explosion sending out shock wave upon wave. His body's bits flew in every direction like shards of glass leaving only a mist of pale iridescent light at center. There was a sound of rushing of wind and all things stood still- frozen in a deadly calm. Then as quickly as it had left, the sound returned in screeching high pitch and in counter rotation the explosion collapsed in on itself, disappearing into thin air.

The room, now mere rubble, opened to the cool night air through leveled nursery walls and non-existent roofing, stood like the crib-- broken, stained, and empty. The house creaked and groaned in threat of complete collapse--exhausted. In less than 10 minutes the happy home had now become a sad ruin of mortar and stone.

Shouts rang in the distance and two men suddenly appeared in the once nursery. Obsidian eyes darted about in desperate search of survivors. The second man was taller and older in appearance with his silky long white beard tucked into the belt of his robes. His typically twinkling blue eyes took in the destruction clouding darkly.

"Lillian!" the younger man shouted. He observed the fallen walls, broken crib, and scorched and bloodied floor. "Lilly!" He cried.

Similar shouts calling "James!" could be heard coming from the ground floor.

"Albus, look!" The shorter of the two men pointed the wand in his hand at the indoor wall of rubble. Strands of red hair caught the light shining from the wand's tip. With a swish and a flick chunks of wall were thrown out off the second floor in haste and out to the garden below. After much digging the battered body of one Lilly Potter began to come into view. Taking care not to further injure the woman the men worked diligently to free her.

Cradling the broken woman's head the young man finally noticed her arm gasping loudly. Without a word, the man called Albus spun his wand in the air, and the severed hand landed in his palm. "There is still time, Severus." "Take this with you," he said.

"Ah- . . .!" Severus's voice caught in his throat as he held his friend. There were no words to say, and they had no time to waste. In a blink of an eye Lilly, the severed hand, and the young man had vanished.

Albus turned toward the broken crib, muttering. He waved his wand a few times running tests here and there. Where was the child? He tapped the crib and an echo of eerie green light swirled in the imprint of the baby's body but soon vanished—the killing curse! A sinking feeling stirred in his gut and he fought to squash it. It couldn't be so, could it? The child . . . it was prophesied . . . but then where was the Dark Lord? His eyes looked pass the torn walls and up to the exposed sky. Stars sparkled happily, immune to the stench of blood and soot that filled his nostrils. The full moon sat content casting its pale light reassuringly upon the darkened streets and yards, but there was no mark! The Dark Lord's sign of a mission accomplished was not present above the Potter home, despite the seeming victory in proof of damage. What happened here?

Pop-pop! Two more men appeared in the room next to the brooding man. "Albus, we have both Lilly and James at a secure location. Their injuries are quite severe. Your assistance has been requested."

"Very well, tell the others to keep searching for clues and stay on guard," he said in a low tremble. "Voldemort was surely here and his followers may very well show up." He glanced around the room one more time, he met their eyes. "Keep alert."

"Yes sir." They replied. The three men then vanished--just as the Dark Lord vanished, just as Baby Potter had vanished—into thin air.

tbc
:D hphphphphphphphphphphphphp :D

Citations:

1. Lyrics from the song "Last Resort" by the band Papa Roach (I had planned to only include the line "Cut my life into pieces etc . . ." because it kind of just popped into the fic. But then I decided to try and include more. I didn't want to get rid of the first line I added so. . . yeah. Let me know if it works or not, I'm real interested about that.)

2. A CD of traditional music, drawing from, Irish, Scottish, English, Australian, Canadian, and American influences by Alan Hewson, Salva Malbaski, and Aidan Broadrige. (I listened to the "Witch of the Glen" mp3 on the I-net which was all instrumental but I think words could easily go to the song, it was just right for Lilly, I think.)

3. From the Fan Fiction Net "submit review" tips 

A/N:

Well, I hope you found that interesting and hopefully intriguing enough to stick around and find out what happens. Let me know your thoughts submitting a review.

There might be a few grammar mistakes, tense confusion, and a few clichés here and there. If so I apologize, but I did my best to check for mistakes. As for clichés read on for creative advice. I am trying very hard to improve my writing of fiction, so if there is any creative advice one wants to share, I'm all ears. I look forward to those well rounded critiques (3) as they would be the most useful at this point in my fan fictional ambitions.

If you happen to enjoy giving grammar pointers or writing style/form tips (e.g. tips toward the literal dialogue and paragraph style etc . . . ) and what not then by all means enjoy yourself in the review box.