I own nothing, JK Rowling owns HP.

Row of "S.J." signifies a scene break

The Dog

Sentimental Joe

Prologue

The sun had almost sunk out of view and the sky exploded into hues of orange, pink and red. The moon was just visible, a pale crescent sliver in the dusk sky. The last rays of bright light beamed through the glass window of the house, irritating the baby inside.

It wasn't long before a young red haired woman opened the door into the room where the sun had intruded, evidently the baby's cries had reached her ears and she had dropped whatever it was she was doing and came to care for the child right away. The

woman picked up the almost alleviated baby and held it to her chest, whispering into its ear and rocking it back to sleep, she sang a soft tune to the baby, and surprisingly quickly the baby fell back into sweet slumber, the rays of sun had disappeared without a fight as the sun sank beneath the green fields that seemed to roll on forever, occasionally disrupted by a towering tree reaching up out of the grass, grasping for the sky.

Even when the baby had fallen asleep the woman still held him, caressing his soft face and smiling a sad sort of smile. An observant person may have noticed her stunning green eyes starting to water, making them seem as they were emerald goblets filling up with water, the tears then dropped. Each tear landed softly on the baby's face, making a small smile appear on the child's soft pale face, the child showed no other signs of noticing the tears.

The woman laid the baby back into its decorative oaken crib and looked at him for a few moments. With another small, pained smile she turned and walked out the door, turning back once she reached the doorframe to look once again, at her only child. She didn't know that it would be the last time she ever put him to bed.

She walked down the long red hall toward the spiralling staircase; she continued to hum the soft sounding tune she had sung to the baby as she seemed to glide down the stairs one hand sliding down the redwood rail and the other hung loosely by her side subconsciously spinning a twelve inch piece of thin, rounded wood. The stick fell from her hand and her eyes darted anxiously toward the front door, for whatever reason, and then back to her piece of wood just as it clattered on the wooden steps. The wood rolled down the stairs and stopped a few feet after the last step. The stick lay there, for a moment; before she ran down the stairs, picked it up and pointed it toward the door in one fluid motion.

Nothing happened and she sighed in obvious relief and dropped the hand holding her stick to her side. The sound of footsteps reached her ears, pounding across the house towards her. Eyes widened in apprehension she lifted the lengthy piece of wood once more just as a man came into view.

"Lilly? What's going on!" the man almost shouted.

"Oh, it's nothing James…" The woman, Lilly, said breathlessly. James pinned her with a knowing look and sighed. He walked toward her and took her into his arms; she pushed herself up against his strong chest and revelled in the safeness she felt near him.

"It'll be okay soon Lils," he whispered into her ear, "soon we'll be able to live again, and I mean really live. Soon it'll be all better and we can live happily with Harry. I promise."

"I know James, its just… I'm scared," Lilly replied; her words almost incoherent as she was sobbing quietly into James now wet sweater. James wanted to tell her that he was scared too, because he was. He was deathly afraid. He didn't though, he whispered words into her ear; they both knew that the words were empty, but they calmed his beautiful wife down. He would do anything for her; he would even hive up his own life.

So they stood there, they didn't know how long they just rested in each other's embrace, silently reliving each other of their fears.

"It'll be alright…" James said soothingly.

S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J. S.J.

As the emotional commotion was taking place at the Potter's residence, another commotion was occurring, the latter quite different. Inside a large manor a meeting of great importance was taking place, the verdict would, in essence, dictate the future of their world.

"Soon, soon the whole world will be under my control… but there is still that prophecy…" thought a certain black robed man aloud to himself. He was very mysterious looking, sitting slightly hunched, obviously deep in thought, on a large stone throne-like chair. A large hood rose up out of the black cloak and threw shadows over his face; the odd time a glint of red would appear under the hood, but it was gone as quick as it appeared. The figure brought his hands up and put his finger tips together, a thoughtful pose. The figures head jerked up suddenly and his hand slipped inside his cloak inconspicuously as he heard the heavy wooden doors swing open.

A rat like man entered the door, it seemed as if he had only opened the door wide enough for him to just barely squeeze through; he shut the door after he scurried a ways in. He cast his eyes around the room, pupils moving faster than most would thing possible, the enthroned figure could tell the rat-faced intruder was shaking something terrible.

Now, under normal circumstances he would have killed anyone who dared to just walk into his room, every one of his servants knew that; which is exactly why the mysterious figure was curious. There was a chaotic noise outside the door and both of the doors burst open, there stood three black robed, white masked figures; all had their wands raised.

"What is the meaning of this?" Questioned the man on the throne, quietly but he managed to sound imperious at the same time.

" M-Milord," stammered one of the white-masked figures, "We don't know how this…person," he seemed hesitant to call the rodent-like man a person "got inside the fortress! He just appeared in front of the doors!"

"Now, now, Lucius, you know apparition inside of here is entirely impossible." The man responded from his throne. The man called Lucius raised his hand as if to point accusingly at the seated figure in front of him, but quickly changed his mind. Any age was too young for the painful death that would have come from that particular action. The 'Lord' as Lucius had called him turned his attention to the quivering man who had barged in. "Who are you? Speak quickly or you wont live to… do whatever it is you do." Spoke the 'Lord' scathingly. The grubby man made a high pitched yelping kind of sound at being directly acknowledged.

"I-I-I Have In-Information!" The mans face was impossible to read, not because he was a master at hiding his emotions, like the rest of the people in the room, it was merely because he had so many expressions running across his face he looked like he might pass out from sheer exhaustion. "P-prophecy!"

The 'Lord' narrowed his eyes, though none could tell, this was after all, becoming very interesting.

"Spit it out, rat, or I'll tip you apart!" The 'Lord' hissed, his calm but terrifying demeanour changed swiftly to a vicious but equally frightening one.

"I-I know who the child of the prophecy is!" The man's stutter becoming less, but he still looked overly afraid.

"So do I," The 'Lord' responded dryly, this was fast becoming useless… he itched terribly to kill this ugly intruding rat. It seemed as if the 'ugly intruding rat' sensed this and he started grasping at straws, to save his life. He ended up saying something he did not actually come here to say.

"I know where he is, Right now!" A split second after he cried out those words, the ratty man's eyes opened with horror and his mouth didn't seem able to close. He hadn't meant to directly sell out his friends.

The 'Lord' grinned, very happy for the first time in a long while.

"Where might that be then?" He hissed, he voice sounding much like a snake. The disturbed traitor licked his lips nervously and in his mind he weighed his options. He could either live and be a traitor, or die and remain a good friend to the only people that had befriended him in those many years of school. Now, it might seem like an obvious choice, but for him it wasn't, and what it came down to was life or death. They could survive even if I told…maybe they won't be home when he attacks them… thoughts such as those ran through his head as he made his decision.

"Godrics Hollow" He had said a full phrase with out stuttering in front of the Dark Lord, the most feared man in the last century in the Wizarding World, Lord Voldemort.

Now, he never knew this, but this traitor would be bound to Voldemort for the rest of his life, he could never escape.

The mysterious Lord Voldemort grinned; he had what he needed for complete domination of the wizarding world, and a new servant as well. Lord Voldemort pushed his magical energy into each of his followers, congratulating himself on creating such a handy device as the dark mark. He had plans, and they would soon be set into motion.