I own nothing, JK Rowling owns HP.

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

Note: I wrote a different language n this chapter, for a small part only. It's German but it probably isn't all right. Sorry if it isn't and if you care to include the proper spelling in a review. The English translation will be posted at the bottom.

The Dog

Sentimental Joe

Chapter One

Almost immediately following their Lord's signal through the dark mark the Death Eaters arrived. The black robed servants spilled into the spacious throne room, a seemingly never ending flow of the Dark Lord's servants, slaves. Although the room was full to bursting and people were strewn up against one another uncomfortably, they all managed to bow before their master.

"Rise," spoke Voldemort, a slight amount of glee slipped through his emotional barriers and sneaked into his tone. At his command all of them rose to their feet, a few tripped on others robes, but soon enough all were standing and anxiously waiting for what was to come. Even the dimmest of the servants could tell something incredible was going to take place soon, something great.

Voldemort rose himself and motioned for the foremost people to come toward him, his inner circle.

"What is it you wish, Milord," spoke a feminine voice from behind her pearly mask, her violet eyes sparkling with poorly hidden excitement, her voice shook with anxiousness. Her Lord was after all, very unpredictable. Voldemort silenced her with a sharp look, and then turned his attention once more to the masses.

"You will all stay here while the inner circle and I are gone, I will elaborate as I see fit when I return!" Voldemort commanded his servants. He wanted them to be here when he came back, to celebrate his concrete victory by means of a mass mudblood slaughtering. The Dark Lord then turned and acknowledged his most loyal servants "Follow me." He spoke simply, withholding the malice that usually laced his tone. With that he swept out of the hall his black garb billowing as if there had been a large breeze flowing through the immense room. The inner circle followed at a respectful distance, their footsteps coincidently matching; creating echoes in the hall that was the exit from the throne room.

The hall was made of dark stone with a high ceiling. Torches hung from the walls precariously, it seemed as if they wood fall at any given moment, but none of the walkers paid any heed to the lighting. Some spots on the walls were visibly cleaner than others, large rectangular spaces; it seemed portraits had taken up those spaces once upon a time. Now though, there was only one portrait in the long hall, and this one, unlike most wizarding pictures, did not move. The man in the picture looked very aristocratic, with high cheekbones and a pointed look in his black eyes. His hair was short and combed properly and carefully, his head was turned slightly to the side; he seemed to be staring at something right beside you.

As the inner circle and Lord Voldemort were walking at a brisk pace, heels clicking in a fast rhythm, one rat-like man named Peter was staggering along behind them in an unsteady speed walk. The scene would have been comical if his present situation wasn't life or death. It looked as if the most-feared people of this day were unsurprisingly not going to slow down for him, so he sped up, successfully losing his already poor balance and ending up sprawled on the stone floor. Still, no one paid any attention to his plight. Peter picked himself back up and tried to keep up as well as he could, unfortunately there was a corner up ahead, and his 'escorts' were turning down it. Quickening his clumsy movements he rounded the corner to find… more doors, three of them. None of these thick, heavy looking wooden doors were opened. Thoughts of escape bolted through Peter's skull, he could get away now and save his life, after all, it really did seem like You-Know-Who would kill him as soon as he had the information he needed.

"Which door would they have least likely gone through…?" Whispered Peter aloud to himself, weighing his options. He cursed himself under his breath for his sense of direction, or lack thereof. Deciding that he had just better chose quickly before he was found again, he went through the door on the left side of the hall instead of the one directly in front of him or to the right.

"Took you long enough… rat!" The same female Death Eater that Lord Voldemort had spoken to earlier snarled at him from behind her pure white mask, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Hurry up; they're a ways ahead already." With that she grabbed his forearm, pulled him roughly in front of her and then pushed his back with her palm forcefully, propelling him forward. After stumbling for a moment he regained his footing and started walking forward, his chance of escape was lost and he had now only one option if he wanted to at least have a chance at life.

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.

The Potter's had long since calmed down, and were now sitting at the dining room table, eating a very late dinner. Lilly had brought Harry down and he was sitting on the table, gurgling happily and laughing. Every so often Lilly would feed him some of her own food, but he didn't seem to want to eat much as at the moment he was having far too much time playing a little game with a small plastic fork. Harry was waving the eating utensil specifically made for babies around like he had seen his father wave his wand around, in circles with jabs and diagonal cuts.

"Did Harry just perfectly execute the proper wand motion for Wingardium Leviosa?" James questioned, jokingly with a large grin on his face, remembering his own school days. Lilly just rolled her eyes.

"Your absolutely barmy." Was all she said and then continued eating; James just grinned wider.

"Well, I'm done, I'll cleanup too. Harry should get to bed now," Lilly said matter-of-factly.

"I'll take the little gaffer up to bed then." James said as he ruffled the hair on his beloved sons' head. Harry giggled loudly but it was cut short as he yawned louder than any baby should have right too and almost fell over on the table.

James picked Harry up and began progressing across the dinning room towards the stairs, his feet making soft pattering sounds as he stepped. He made his way up the stairs, across the hall and finally into Harry's room. The room was brightly coloured, in yellows and soft blues, it had wooden trimming to match his crib. James had insisted that Harry have quiditch posters on his walls, quiditch pajamas, quiditch blankets and well… everything quiditch.

As his father laid him down in his crib Harry yawned once more and fell into blissful slumber for the night, or at least part of it. James stared down at his son, smiling fondly and coming to the conclusion that he would look just like him when he grew up.

"Just don't break too many hearts kido…" With that said softly, James walked out of the room for the last time in his life. He walked down into the kitchen where Lilly was in the process of casting cleaning charms on all of the dirty dishes.

"Almost done? Harry's not the only one who needs some sleep," James said, with a small smirk on his face.

"Yes, sleep indeed," Lilly responded, sighing and rolling her eyes, but in good nature. James just laughed and walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He turned his attention to his wife's neck and she let out a small sigh. James smiled against her skin.

"You need to shave, you know," Lilly teased. James looked up at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Are you sure?" He said sarcastically, "does it tickle?"

"Only a little bi-AH!" Lilly screeched as James started using his fingers to tickle her sides, she broke away and ran from him, laughing all the while.

"Think you can run from a star quicitch player, do you?" James spoke across the room to her retreating back. He soon took off after her, and was soon shortening the distance between the two of them. Soon enough he caught up to her and lightly tackled her to the carpet, pinning her underneath him with on hand while the other continued to tickle her sides. "Quiet now, you'll wake Harry!" James said mock sternly. Lilly tried to stop laughing but it was to no avail and she broke out into louder laughter.

"St-stop!" Lilly said between bits of laughter, "Stop tickling me!"

"If you insist…" James said, and by the way he said it she knew he was up to something. He leaned in closer, and was about to plant a kiss on her lips when there was multiple loud cracking sounds, the exact sound made when wizard-folk apparated. James and Lilly both froze…

"I-Is… it Dumbledore…?" Lilly questioned, but both knew the answer, and that was a huge, glowing, flashing 'NO.'

"It's him!" whispered James urgently; Lilly could almost detect a trace of fear through his Gryffindor courage. "Take Harry, get out of here NOW!" James spoke in a stage whisper.

"How did they find us?" Lilly questioned, she had veiled some of her fear, using her own Gryffindor qualities.

"That doesn't matter right now! Just get Harry and get out of here, quickly!" James commanded her, and Lilly knew she would have to obey, but she had one last question.

"What about you?" She asked worriedly.

"I'll hold him off for as long as I can! Now, move along!" By now he was almost shouting. Lilly took a step forward and kissed James on the lips, passionately. They both knew this was more than likely the end.

With her fear replaced him iron will she broke the kiss, looked one last time into his hazel brown eyes and ran off. She bolted up the stairs faster than one would have though possible, slammed Harry's door open, awakening him in the process. He didn't cry; he just stared at her with a look in his eyes. She stared into his eyes for a split second but it seemed like longer, she saw… understanding? No, that was impossible, he was just a baby. She quickly grabbed him and his light blue quiditch blanket, wrapped him in it and ran for his door. At that very same instant she heard a high pitched voice speak the fatal and final words.

"Avada Kedavra" The words were spoken in an impossible calml, given what they did. She knew only one person could manage that. She didn't panic or scream in terror as many would have, she just spoke two simple words:

"Goodbye James, I'll see you soon," She knew she couldn't escape anymore, so she went to her last resort, she had to save her child somehow. She racked her mind for ways to protect him and only came up with one.

When she was younger she had come across an old Merlin-Time Germanic charm that could protect against the killing curse. Of course she had read all about it, but she knew she could never try it. It was after all, a 'dark' spell. At least, it was under today's 'light and dark' classification of magic. It was called dark because it required a sacrifice, a life sacrifice. But it also required unimaginable amounts of love to be completed successfully. Love like that shared between most mothers and their babies. She started uttering the words under her breath, while looking directly into Harry's eyes, her own eyes watering:

"Liebe über Tod, Leben über Hass; nimmt meinen letzten Atem, Ihr eigenes Schicksal zu überleben."(1a)

There was no extravagant flash of light, not loud sound, nothing that could be seen of felt by a bystander. The only reason Lily knew that it was half-complete was the massive magical drain and the warm feeling inside her. To make the spell work, she had about five minutes to die. Any longer and the spell would be useless and she was too drained to do it again.

She moved to open the door, confront Voldemort and get him to kill her, the door flew open dramatically. There stood Lord Voldemort, for no one in the wizarding world could have mistaken him from someone else.

Lilly stared into the blood red slits that served as eyes for the monster that stood before her, an obvious look of defiance in her eyes; she knew what her fate was to be.

"So, this is the child of the prophecy, the one that would defeat me. It cannot even walk!" Voldemort said scathingly.

"Actually, he can. He can walk almost across his room." Lilly replied daringly. A look of shock passed over the Dark Lord's facial features, but it passed so fast Lilly thought that it was her imagination. He glared at her.

"You dare disagree with me? I am Lord Voldemort!" He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named screeched in rage.

"I know very well who you are, Voldemort." Lilly responded, almost matching the scathing tone she had heard Slytherins use so often in her school days. Lord Voldemort saw red after that comment.

"I am going to kill you very slowly, mudblood!" Voldemort sneered. Lilly's eyes opened for a second in horror, slowly? No it could not be slow, time was already running out. Maybe she could provoke him into killing her quickly? She reached for her wand with an overly obvious movement and whipped it out, Lord Voldemort saw the movement long before she had her magical focus out and he spoke the killing curse with venom that a cute little puppy never could, ever.

Just before the green flash of light hit her he saw a look of peace and happiness on her face, he couldn't understand why. Death was the worst thing that could happen to a person, he thought. That was why he longed for immortality with such a passion. He passed it off as some useless mudblood trait and made his way to the child sitting on the carpeted floor, starring up at him.

"Harry Potter," Lord Voldemort said, addressing the baby as if he could respond back. "The child of Lilly and James potter, two of the most talented magic-users of their generation… It's a good thing I'm not of their generation then am I?" The Dark Lord asked Harry. "You would never be able to defeat me… By the time you're eleven and ever begin to learn any magic I'll have completed my goal of immortality and have taken over the world, nothing, especially a baby, can stop me!" And with that said Lord Voldemort leveled his wand at the baby Harry's head, right between his eyes and summoned up all the hatred he could, an immense amount.

"Avada Kedavra!" A flash of brilliant green light; light that may very well have been beautiful if not for what its effect was, beamed out of the phoenix feather wand of Lord Voldemort and straight towards the Potter child's forehead.

An inexperienced wizard would not have even seen the extra flash of light and an even brighter green light headed straight toward him, but Lord Voldemort was not inexperienced, he was in fact, more experienced with the dark arts and combat magic than any other wizard before him. Most of the famous wizards earlier on: Merlin, La Faye, The Founders and even Albus Dumbledore paid more attention to wards and more complicated magic. Voldemort was a master at fighting; his various rituals had increased his raw magical reserves and power. Other rituals had increased his physical endurance, strength and speed. So, Lord Voldemort did see the Killing Curse headed straight back towards him and he jumped out of the way in time to save his life. The only evidence that he had been near a Killing Curse was the minor problem of his left arm being, well… nonexistent.

What in Salazar's name happened?" Voldemort almost shouted his surprise for once was obvious. "Did that child just block the Killing Curse? It just wasn't possible. The sheer power that would take…" Voldemort thought to himself, trailing off.

Most would think that a man like Voldemort would just obliterate the child, now with even more hatred. But most don't think like Voldemort does. The Dark Lord saw amazing potential in this child, a child with no parents, an orphan, just like himself.

"Bloody Hell, he even looks a little like me…" Voldemort muttered very uncharacteristically. "An heir," Voldemort said to himself. He had been trying to reap an heir for a while now, using various female Death Eaters. He had been using the best of what he fondly named 'breeding stock.' He had little success, only coming out with normal to just above average powered wizard children. He even had a squib, but it was put to death the moment Lord Voldemort checked the size of its magical core, which was so small it was almost impossible to sense, even for him.

That was how you checked how powerful a wizard someone was or would become, by the size of their magical core. You had to take into consideration the training and magical maturation that the child would go through, and in Voldemort's case, rituals but he did and there was hardly anything extraordinary, until now. This Potter child must have a massive magical core to come out of a Killing Curse with only a small scar. No matter what protection had been put on him. Oh yes, Voldemort sensed the protection Lilly had thought no one could. He had undergone so many rituals that he wasn't even human anymore, he was part-demon. He could easily sense the light magic on the child, but that would soon be taken care of.

Voldemort Scooped up the child roughly in his right arm and basically dragged it on the front lawn where his inner circle was awaiting him.

"What's with the kid?" spoke a Death eater viciously, an almost hungry light in his eyes. His bone mask shifting slightly as his facial expression turned from an incredible nothing to a practiced sneer.

"No questions." Voldemort responded. "Let us apparate back to the manor. I must think on some things and get my arm…healed. Crabbe, Goyle, I want this place burnt to the ground." The Dark Lord pointed his wand into the sky and shouted a spell; the infamous Dark Mark appeared over the Potter's home. "The rest of you, follow me back to the manor, now!" Lord Voldemort commanded. With a few loud cracks and one semi-silent pop the remaining Death Eaters and their Master along with the prophecy child apparated back to the base-of-operations, Riddle Manor.

Meanwhile an impossibly loud alarm went off in one old man's office. His eyes opened suddenly and he knew exactly what it meant, his eyes watered and it wasn't long before his pillow was wet with salty tears.

Across the street from the burning home of Lilly and James Potter a small rat watched the house burn, he turned and apparated to the Riddle Manor as well, he would never escape what he had done.

1a -"Love over Death, life over hatred; take my last breath, to survive your own fate."