Title: That fatal night
Authoress: Lady Domino
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, they belong to J. K. Rowling. I am not making any money off of this and I write with the sole intention to entertain.
A/N: The night Harry loses his parents. J. K. Rowling's original words are in bold.
That fatal night
There's nothing like a Fidelius spell to give you a false sense of safety. The initial success of the magic conceals the truth. Your enemies walk right past your front door, unknowing, unseeing and you grow complacent. So you forget; you forget that you are putting your life in someone else's hands. You are entrusting your safety, your security to someone else. Your Secret Keeper.
How would you choose a Secret Keeper? Would you do the predictable thing and choose the most powerful, least likely person to be corrupted that you know? Perhaps you'd sleep more safely at night knowing that Dumbledore held your future in his hands. Maybe you'd choose your best friend. True of heart, loyal to the end. Would you toss and turn in bed, wondering if your enemies were closing in on him at that very moment, regretting the danger you were placing him in? Or perhaps you'd be clever and choose an unlikely person. Someone who wasn't your best friend. Someone who was regarded as weak and worthless. Someone whom the enemy would never suspect. Perhaps you'd be just a bit too clever and choose the rat.
The moon was shining brightly as I drew closer to Godric's Hollow. A beautiful quiet night. I was passing through an upper class residential area. The houses were still, the lights in their windows few and far between. It was very late. Nearing midnight. The roads were empty; all the cars had been put to bed and were sleeping snugly in their garages. I remembered cars. They looked very different when I was in the orphanage, but still I remembered them.
I walked silently down the deserted pavement, sliding between the shadows and avoiding the puddles of yellow light cast by the streetlamps. When I reached the litter bin I had been told about I turned and faced the opposite side of the street. At first glance there were two detached houses with large gardens facing me. I concentrated. Silently the third house, the hidden house revealed itself to me. I watched unmoving as it materialised. The lights were on in the upstairs windows; my prey was at home. Just as well they were in; you can not believe how foolish one feels when one makes a loud, firework-filled entrance to find an empty house. I smiled grimly. If my information was correct then tonight was the beginning of a new era. Tonight I would obliterate the one real threat to my rule.
I crossed the street and unlatched the garden gate. It squeaked as I pushed it open, and I tensed. No sign that I had been detected. I closed the gate softly behind me and laughed humourlessly. Once again I had been proved correct. These people had become complacent: too dependant on their Fidelius charm to conceal them. Live with the fear and you take far more precautions. That gate should have had an alarm. Some defensive spells should have been there to challenge me as I stalked up the garden path towards the door. Unimpeded, I reached the door within seconds. Wand in right hand, I reached up and pressed the doorbell with my left thumb.
Ding-a-ling. Death is at the door. Ding-a-ling. He wants to come in. I heard a male voice through the wood, the words too muffled to make out. A pause. And then a hysterical shout in that same voice. Damn. I'd forgotten the peephole. They weren't going to let me in after all. Shrugging, I lifted my wand and slammed the door open with enough force to blast it right off its hinges. It flew back, hitting the dark-haired man who had been standing behind it. He stumbled, stunned, his wand nearly slipping out of his grip. I laughed coldly.
"Good evening Mr Potter." Melodramatic? Moi?
Potter shook his head to clear it, and opened his mouth. If I was expecting a polite greeting I was severely disappointed.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run!" Behind him a red-haired woman on the stairs stood frozen. At his words she jumped into action, turning and bolting up the stairs, the soles of her bare feet flashing. "I'll hold him off!" Potter promised her. That made me laugh even harder.
"Stupefy!" He screamed. I blocked the jinx easily. "Expelliarmus!" Blocked. I started advancing towards him. "Impedimenta!" You guessed it. Blocked. My turn.
"Expelliarmus!" He reacted just in time.
"Protege!" I smiled coldly.
"What an amusing game this could be, James. Each of us blocking the other's spells. But I'm afraid I really don't have time for you. Crucio!" He dropped to his knees, screaming in agony. I lifted the curse and at the same time called "Expelliarmus!" His wand flew from his hand towards me. It clattered to the floor near my feet and I kicked it away.
He struggled to stand again, hair dishevelled, glasses crooked.
"What do you want?" he asked. I told him. "You bastard!" he screamed. "You sick, murdering-"
"Avada Kadavra." My killing curse slammed into his chest, silencing him. He spun back, outlined in brilliant green, and then hit the banister with a crunch. I ignored the body and hurried up the stairs.
As I reached the landing the first door on my right slammed shut. Light filtered through the crack beneath it, and I could see a shadow moving. I walked to the door and placed my palms on the wood, checking its strength.
"Lily?" No answer. "Lily, let me in. You don't have to die. Let me in and we can talk."
"Get away from here," she screamed angrily.
"James is dead, Lily. Dead at the foot of the stairs. It doesn't have to be the same for you."
"Leave us alone," she pleaded. I could hear the desperate fear in her voice. I stood back and used the same spell as I had before to slam the door open. She stood in the middle of the nursery, clutching her son in her arms. Her beautiful eyes were wide with fear, like a doe's. The baby squirmed in protest at her tight grip.
"Put him down, Lily," I said softly. "Put him down and we can talk." She froze, hesitating, but the child's wriggling was growing more insistent, so she placed him gently on the surface behind her, keeping her eyes on me all the while. Her empty hand flew to her hip and came away holding the wand which had been in the waistband of her jeans.
"Please, just leave us alone," she whispered. I barely heard her.
"Expelliarmus!" She was wasting too much of her concentration on the child behind her; her shielding spell was too slow. The wand flew out of her grip. I caught it in my hand and bowed to her. She was barely breathing, obviously terrified,
"There is the door," I gestured behind me.
"What?" I frowned. Talk about dense.
"I said that you needn't die. There is the door." She swallowed nervously.
"You're, you're letting us go?" I laughed harshly.
"Us? No. I am letting you go. I only want your son." Her hand flew to her mouth.
"No, not my baby." I shrugged dismissively.
"You are young. You can have more children. I only want him." I could see her answer in her eyes before she said it.
"You can't have Harry!" Mothers!
"My patience is waning, girl," I warned. And when she refused to move I took a step forward. In terror, in desperation she started screaming.
"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything-" I was out of patience.
"Stand aside – stand aside girl. Stand aside you fool." She refused and her shrill voice grated on my nerves.
"Mercy, please. Have mercy-" I had only one answer for her.
"Avada Kadavra!"
Silence. Her body slumped down in an untidy heap on the ground, long legs bent, gorgeous copper hair strewn wildly over her face. Then-
"Aaarrrrgghhhhhh!" The baby's face crumpled as he set up his howl. Did he understand he had lost his mother, or was he just confused and scared? Irrelevant. I stepped past the body of his mother, feeling just a twinge of guilt. I like beautiful things. I didn't want to kill her. But she was stubborn, she was stubborn and silly and so I had destroyed her. I dismissed her from my mind and studied my real reason for being there tonight.
He was fairly pretty, as far as babies go, I suppose. Soft, fluffy black hair. Eyes halfway between baby blue and a green to rival his father's. As he wailed I caught a glimpse of baby teeth nestling in the gums. A delicate little sugar baby – pink skin, rosy cheeks, dimpled arms, tiny toes. This was my prophesised nemesis? I doubted I would ever have an easier kill. He just sat there, mewling, not even attempting to crawl away. Already my mind was flying ahead, to the headlines in the Daily Prophet the day after, to my return to the Deatheaters, to a brighter future, free from fear of defeat. To immortality. He may as well have been already dead. I looked into those wide eyes and saw my own reflection as I lifted my wand.
"Avada Kadavra!"
-Fin-