AN:
It's been a long while. I just wanted to apologize to y'all for taking so long with the chapter. Real life hit like a truck and I ended up losing my job due to budget cuts. It took some time for me to get back on my feet as I was busy with interviewing and applying everyday. Thankfully, I was able to secure a job a few weeks ago and I've gotten used to my new schedule. Thanks for sticking with me through the unplanned hiatus.
I just want to mention that this chapter was extremely hard for me to write. Mainly because I wanted to try and portray the kind of people and parents Lily and James are, so that their actions in the future make sense. I mentioned that I wanted to avoid the standard trope of bashing and neglectful parents, and that's what I intend to do. Not that they are going to skate by with an excuse for everything, though. The situation is going to be as realistic as I can make it while sticking to the plot I have in mind. Both of them will have some character growth and hopefully I'll be able to depict their transformations properly as I expand on the story.
Also, I wanted to give Voldemort somewhat realistic goals and character traits. Being evil for evil's sake to me is just lazy writing. Also, while megalomania is part of who he is, I didn't want to make that the only thing his entire character is based on. Throughout the books there were hints to his genius and intrinsic understanding of magic. Mixed in with a healthy dose of ambition and paranoia that came from growing up in an orphanage during the time of WWII. The confidence and charisma necessary for a half-blood like him to charm an entire generation of proud Purebloods into essentially being his underlings was also something I want to incorporate. This was only affected due to the vile magics he used to "improve" himself. I'm interested in how a sane Voldemort might handle the war vs a deranged one. Unfortunately, I don't know if I have the confidence of being able to properly portray a character like that.
Oh well, who knows? Maybe I'll think about giving it a shot further on in the story when my self-assuredness of my writing style and plot become more solidified.
World building is also something I'm working on. The world of the books seemed a little limited to me in a way that I felt took away a lot from the story. I want to expand more on some of the traditions of Purebloods, their thought processes and the politics behind the Wizengamot. I want to address the ICW and how it manages all the countries that are members. So many things that I want to address, that I don't know which to pick first. I'll do my best to ensure that no matter what happens, I'll keep the info dumps to a minimum and focus primarily on character interactions.
I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I hope I can get another one out in the next couple of days, seeing as it's Thanksgiving weekend here in the States. To all my fellow Americans, Happy Thanksgiving. May your day be filled with delicious food and warm company.
To my readers, I'm thankful to all of you here who take the time out of your day to read my story. I hope you have a great weekend.
It was Halloween night 1981 when a shadowy figure draped in a cloak black as night glided down the street. The raucous yelling of children as they rushed from house to house gathering sweet treats allowed the figure to blend into the surroundings. Not a single person stood in its way as it purposefully strode towards an unassuming house that nobody on the street seemed to notice.
The Dark Lord Voldemort sneered at the disgusting Muggle children running up and down the street. Their parents talking in small groups as they accompanied their spawn on their inane quest to receive sweets from strangers.
It was a complete disgrace that this is what Samhain had turned into. The fact that the filth brought their mundane traditions to Hogwarts and did their best to discourage those of pure blood from practicing Samhain rites was partly why he was fighting against them.
Their inclusion in the magical world had brought nothing but cultural erosion. Even back during his Hogwarts days, all the mudbloods accused magical society of being backward. The fact that they were in a new world they didn't even know existed until they were 11, didn't bother them. Nor did they care that its members wielded a force so powerful it could bring their pathetic species to its knees.
No, they almost always tried to remake magical society in the image of muggle society. The image they had grown up with and learned about. The one they took comfort in. Very few ever tried to understand why magicals were the way they were. It was easier to collectively accuse them of bigotry and xenophobia.
To his immense disappointment, the Pureblood families who ran the Ministry ended up having a split over the issue. An issue that should have united all members of the Sacred 28, regardless of political views, to come to the defense of their culture and way of life.
The so-called Light faction had concluded that the only way for their society to prosper was to reject their ancient traditions and embrace the change muggleborns inevitably brought to their community in increasing frequency. The Dark faction openly disdained muggleborns and did their best to ensure they would not feel welcome in their world.
To him, the Greys were the most infuriating of them all, neither hating nor embracing muggleborns, but keeping their magical traditions close to their hearts. Never forgetting them, and passing them on faithfully to their children, all while never bothering to educate others.
That was simply cowardice in his eyes. The men of the neutral houses were all businessmen, plain and simple. It did not matter to them that their world would be irrevocably changed by the mudblood onslaught at Hogwarts, or in their government. So long as their interests were protected and their families stayed rich, they would not lift a finger to defend their culture.
That was the highest insult, in his opinion. To spit upon their own culture for something as insignificant as profit. At the very least, the members of the Light faction had the gall to stand by their admittedly progressive values and defend them. The Neutrals and their selfishness were a cancer that plagued their society.
It did not matter though. Once he had secured his immortality, he would deal with them in time. Already the Ministry was close to falling. Many sympathizers who saw the damage the mudbloods were inflicting upon their community and way of life had flocked to his banner. Quite a few future Lords, top Ministry personnel, and people of influence in Magical Britain all served under him.
As he promised, he would excise those who were undeserving of wielding magic from their world. He would usher in a new Golden Age, one that enshrined the values and traditions of their ancestors and respected the magic they were blessed with.
There would be no light and dark, no restrictions, only knowledge for those who wished to seek it. A paradise of magical study comparable to the ancient Babylonians and their fabled Tower of Magic.
Stopping near the edge of the street, he waited as the magical haze surrounding the small cottage slowly dissipated. He was able to see through the windows and scowled. The family was sitting in the living room. He saw two children playing with some toys on the floor. One was a young boy and the other a girl, his prophesied destroyer.
To think the Potters, one of the oldest and most respected Most Ancient and Noble families had been reduced to this. A bloodtraitor who was Albus Dumbledore's pet dog, and two halfblood children who would no doubt be infected by their mudblood mother's biased views on the magical world and its traditions.
He felt a little guilty, as he would be ending a prominent, historically Pureblood family line tonight. Another family of misguided fools who just had to fight against his vision for Magical Britain for pointless reasons.
Wandlessly casting a Tempus, he saw the time was nearly 10. It would take time to prepare the final ritual. The last of a series of 7, that would imbue a part of his soul into an indestructible container.
With that, his currently fragile soul would finally stabilize, and he would be free to go through with some other Dark rituals that would boost his magical prowess. Once those rituals were completed, not even that old fool Dumbledore would be able to match him in power.
One of the most important subjects when it came to rituals was Arithmancy. The study of numbers, their magical properties, and how they interacted with magic. Everything in their world could be dissected and broken down into precise Arithmantic calculations. That was why he knew he had to wait for the right time.
As much as he wanted to step into the cottage and end the lives of everyone within, patience was necessary. The Horcrux ritual was temperamental at best, being one of the most potent and sinister Dark rituals in all magical history. Starting it at exactly the right time was important, as it would affect the chances of success.
The time he had chosen was 11:17. The veil between the living and the dead would be at its thinnest before the dawn of the next day. Any type of necromantic magic had a much larger chance of succeeding when performed around that time. He had laid the foundations of his coup for more than two decades. What were a few more hours in comparison to securing his future as an immortal king?
While waiting, he decided to not only prepare for the ritual, but also put in some safeguards to prevent his targets from escaping. It was always better to be prudent, because who knew what tricks they might have up their sleeves. He had sacrificed so much for this moment, and he would never allow his impatience and admitted arrogance to ruin it.
Better to be safe than sorry.
Working quickly, he laid down some of the most powerful Anti-Apparition, Anti-Portkey, and Anti-Floo Jinxes he knew and tied them all together to a singular ward. A near indestructible net designed to trap his quarry and make escape impossible.
He took pleasure in the irony that it was the Fidelius Charm they hid behind that allowed him to create his trap without them realizing. Due to using it, no other wards could be used, including alert wards. Any magical charm or ward that could have warned the Potters of his arrival was unable to be used.
After ensuring the Potters would be incapable of escaping, he started layering some potent Dark wards that he had learned during his time in Egypt. It would take either a wizard of equivalent power, or a truly skilled Curse-Breaker to get through them. Should reinforcements arrive, they would be delayed long enough for him to escape.
Finishing his casting, he observed his handiwork. Correcting a few minute gaps, he nodded confidently. There was nothing they could do with all his preparation. Even if Dumbledore had provided them portkeys or other means of magical travel, it would all be for naught. His ward scheme would make sure of that.
Casting a silent Tempus, he saw that there was still a while before he could attack and destroy his destined equal. He conjured a comfortable armchair and sat, pondering on the future. Once his final Horcrux was finished, he could undergo a Dark ritual that Grindelwald was famous for. The Fay Blood Ritual.
It would increase his power even beyond what he had already achieved, and it would finally allow him to kill Albus Dumbledore. His former Headmaster was the lone figure keeping him from totally overtaking Britain and establishing his new empire.
With his follower's silent coup in the Ministry, and the slow propagandization of young magicals about to start their education, he would never hurt for capable wands. However, none of that meant a whit in the face of true power. Something Albus Dumbledore had in spades.
Going into a light meditative trance, he reviewed the words and actions for the Horcrux ritual. He couldn't afford to make a mistake with his soul hanging in the balance. The Disillusionment Charm and Notice-Me-Not ward he placed around him ensured he wouldn't be seen.
An hour later, his wand buzzed lightly, alerting him that it was time to start his final conquest. Alighting from the comfortable chair, he languidly stretched his body before preparing himself for the assault. James Potter, being the bull-headed Gryffindor he was, would most likely try to hold him off, so he would have to die first.
The mudblood he married was where he was unsure. Severus had begged for her life, so he was loath to kill her. The man was one of the most talented Potions Masters he had ever seen. Certain aspects of the rituals he would be undergoing in the future involved brewing complex Draughts.
While he was confident of not making any mistakes, Severus had a knack for brewing that surpassed even himself in both accuracy and creativity. Keeping the man loyal to him would likely pay dividends in the future. Personally, he couldn't care less about the girl, but Severus was important enough in his plans to warrant his mercy.
Having made his decision, he sauntered towards the front door. He struck quickly, sending an overpowered Bombarda at the door. The resulting explosion sent it bursting while reducing it to splinters. Almost immediately, he received a volley of knives from inside the cottage. James Potter proved to still be a highly accomplished Auror despite spending a year in hiding.
An errant flick of his wand saw the knives vanishing as he walked towards the threshold. He could hear the man yelling for his wife to run and he couldn't help but smile at his prediction coming true.
"Good evening, James. I hope you had a good Samhain. Seeing as it will be your last after all."
The boy hid his fear well in the face of death. "You will not take another step, Voldemort. Leave now. Dumbledore is already on his way."
Voldemort grinned. "Come now, James. Lying does you no good. The wards I've placed around the property means that there is no way Dumbledore knows I'm here. Now, submit to me, and I may just spare you."
James scoffed. "You have no intention of sparing me, you bastard. A Potter will never bow to one such as you."
"Tut tut." Voldemort clicked his tongue. "Then I bid you farewell; it is a pity that such pure blood has to be spilt tonight. Avada Kedavra!"
James Potter had been relaxing with his beloved wife after a tiring day when the night went to hell. How had they been found? They had been hiding under the Fidelius for almost a year and it had never been broken.
He had almost no time to react when the front door was blasted in. Lily was the one who had been prepared and managed to halt the splinters from causing any damage. She had been on edge all day, saying that she had a bad feeling. It was only due to her constant vigilance that they survived the opening salvo.
Transfiguring them into knives, he banished them back outside.
"Lily, you need to get Harry and June to safety! I'll hold him off!"
"James, we ca-"
"No! They're more important. It's my duty as Lord Potter to defend my family, no matter the cost. Get them out!" He yelled as he saw the object of his nightmares enter his home.
The monster greeted him courteously, possibly out of some sick sense of amusement. Almost as if he wasn't there to murder his entire family. He was almost tempted to try and make conversation if only to give Lily more time, but he knew such a ruse would be seen through too quickly to make any difference.
The duel started off explosively. James immediately started transfiguring every piece of furniture around him into weapons and animals that charged towards Voldemort. One by one, they were either transfigured and redirected, or destroyed outright.
Dark curses flew back and forth as James started casting his last resorts. He had studied a few spells from the Black grimoire due to Sirius' pleading. He thought they might come in handy against Voldemort, but as he saw him deal with them easily, anxiety, desperation, and panic started taking over.
His family was upstairs, and he knew that Lily and the children would never be spared. Voldemort was not one to leave any loose ends when he committed himself against a target. He would rather die before he let anything happen to them.
His magic flared as he started casting with all his might. He could feel the cold hand of Death on his shoulder, and in that moment, he made his peace with it. Knowing that when he died, he would rather die on his feet, defending his family to the best of his abilities.
His wand blurred as conjured constructs burst into existence before attacking Voldemort. Thick cubes of marble defended him from the Killing Curses while his constructs dealt with the others. Never in his life had he felt so focused as he deftly flicked away the occasional dark curse that managed to get through his defense.
He could also tell that Voldemort was getting frustrated. It was both a good and bad thing. He would hopefully make a mistake that could be capitalized on, or he might decide to go all out and put him down. At this point, his only thought was about holding his ground for as long as he could.
As the duel progressed from one minute to five minutes, Voldemort became increasingly agitated. Then suddenly, he yelled, his magic bursting out into the surroundings and smashing into his constructs.
Before James could react, a pitch-black whip came slashing through the air and cut deeply into his wand arm. His wand dropped to the ground as he felt a searing pain down his arm. All resistance was effectively ended as he was overtaken by magical exhaustion while falling to the ground.
Voldemort snarled "A commendable effort, but not enough, Potter. Avada Kedavra!" The neon green light of the Killing Curse jettisoned from his wand towards James, crossing the distance in the blink of an eye.
James gritted his teeth as he saw the light about to hit him. His survival instinct went into overdrive, and for the first time in his life, he wandlessly conjured an item. A small cube of wood in front of his chest.
The Killing Curse hit the box and it exploded as it sent pieces of sharp wooden shrapnel right into his body. His suffering didn't stop there as the force threw his body backwards into the wall. He collided with it so hard he felt the wooden boards break upon impact, sending him sprawling into the kitchen.
The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was the sound of the steps creaking lightly as Voldemort made his way upstairs to where Lily and the kids were. Tears pooled in his eyes as he realized that his family was going to die, and he was too weak to protect them. Then all he saw was darkness.
Lily Potter was panicking. She had been on edge all day and didn't know why. Maybe it had been a mother's intuition, being able to sense that her children were in danger long before they were. Whatever it was seemed like a curse now.
She had managed to save herself and James when their front door had exploded inwards. Even though she wanted to fight with him, she knew he was right. The children were more important.
It didn't matter at all whether there was a prophecy or not, her little Harry and June had to be protected from Voldemort. She had never put much stock in Divination, but at this point, it didn't really matter. Voldemort believed in it, so here he was, trying to murder her children.
The first thing she had done upon running upstairs was take June from her crib in the master bedroom. Then she rushed to Harry's room and woke him up. Holding onto them tightly, she grabbed onto the portkey Albus had provided them and spoke the activation phrase. A flicker of magic emanated from the portkey before dying down.
"No. No no no! This can't be happening!" Lily anxiously exclaimed.
Hugging both her children, she twirled in a circle, pushing her magic to transport her near Hogwarts. The moment she almost felt like she succeeded, an invisible force pushed back against her, hard. She fell to the ground, dazed as her Apparition attempt failed.
Taking a couple of deep breaths, she strained her hearing and heard the violent duel being fought downstairs. As much confidence as she had in James' ability as a fighter, she knew he stood no chance alone. Even together, it took all they had to barely make it out alive when they encountered Voldemort in the field.
A loud shout sounded out as she felt the house tremble. A chilling silence took hold as she held her breath.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The incantation hit her harder than a lorry. Her James was dead. The man she loved with all her heart had been murdered in cold blood. Then the rhythmic sound of steps coming up the stairs filled her with dread. The slow beat like thundering drums signifying her imminent demise.
A sob threatened to break out of her as the situation hit her all at once.
She was trapped no matter how she saw it. She couldn't run away from someone like Voldemort while carrying her children. She didn't know if he was even alone, or whether his fanatics were guarding the outside perimeter. If she was being honest, a quick death at Voldemort's hand was preferable to being captured by his fanatical followers.
However, that was all she and her children were going to get if she didn't do something.
Drawing up on her limited experience with wards, she started laying down as many as she could on the door, hoping they would buy her enough time. As she casted, she utilized Occlumency to remember the ritual that James' mother had taught her from the Potter family grimoire.
It was a sacrificial ritual of protection that anointed a target with a mystical shield against Soul magic-based curses. From her research with the Department of Mysteries, she had learned that the Unforgivables shared their roots in Babylonian Soul Magic. Seeing as the Unforgivables were Voldemort's go-to spells, going through with the ritual made sense.
There was just one big snag. It could only protect one person of her choosing. The alchemical principle of Equivalent Exchange applied whenever it came to Ritual Magic. A life for a life.
If she tried to protect both her children, the ritual would fail instantly and not only would she die, but the consequences her children would suffer for her folly would inevitably kill them as well.
As much as she didn't want to, she was forced to decide something no mother would ever want to think about. Choose which of her children to protect over the other. She prided herself on being a good mother, but as she now found herself thinking about it seriously, she couldn't help but feel like she was a failure.
Her breath shuddered as she looked towards her young daughter. Juniper was the child that was being targeted due to the prophecy. She was Voldemort's reason for coming here tonight. There was no reason for him to spare anyone else.
She knew what she had to do. At that moment, her decision was made. Doing something she never thought she would, she turned her wand on Harry. With a quick Stunner, she knocked him out and stowed him away in the closet. There was no need for him to witness his mother's death.
A part of her knew that she was doing the right thing and protecting him, but the other part stabbed at her conscience. A terrible feeling of guilt that she would most likely suffer even in the afterlife, if there was one. It took all her efforts to maintain her Occlumency and not break down while preparing for her death.
The door shuddered as the first ward broke. She had less than a minute, so she had to make the most of her time. She started the chant as she used her wand to cut her finger. A hushed Latin whisper started to echo in the small room.
Layered voices joined her, growing louder as she continued. With a smooth motion she placed her bloody finger on Juniper's head and dragged it down into the shape of the Sowilo rune. The crescendo of the voices filled her ears as she felt something otherworldly overtake her. Almost robotically, she lifted her shirt and drew the same rune on her stomach.
Upon finishing, the voices died down instantly and the runes on both her and Juniper glowed a deep red before slowly disappearing. She let out a shaky breath. It was done. With this, she had sealed her fate, and simultaneously protected both her children. Now came for the final, and hardest part.
She gently stroked her daughter's head. "Mama and Dada love you, my little June bug. We love you and your brother so much. I'm so sorry that we failed to protect you two. Please take care of each other."
Sending up a quick prayer to whoever would listen, she steeled herself and turned towards the door. The final ward was nearly broken, and the door was rattling on its hinges. The moment of truth was nigh.
Lily fought against the dread that was creeping up. She resisted hyperventilating as the man who would slaughter her family was right outside the door. Right now, she was a mother with a purpose. Nothing could prevent her from doing what needed to be done.
The door burst into a thousand splinters, the power behind the final spell causing them to go ricocheting all around the room. A stray one grazed her cheek and drew blood, but none of that mattered. Her focus was solely on the shadow that seemed to eclipse the room as the bloodthirsty devil calling himself Lord Voldemort walked in.
His outfit was not as put together as it had been when he first came in. From the frustration seemingly permanently etched onto his face, it looked like James had put up one hell of a fight. As she expected of the man who had stolen her heart.
'Don't worry, honey. I'll be with you shortly. Right after I send this bastard to hell.'
"Why must you struggle so hard, mudblood? Your foolish husband has paid the price for his bravery. Do not let his sacrifice be in vain. Step aside, and I may yet spare your life."
Lily's eyes glowed as her magic burst forth around her. "You may have killed my husband, but the only way you're getting to my daughter is over my dead body!"
It was like she was soaring far above the clouds. She could taste the power that was behind her words. The voices that had accompanied her through the ritual whispered in her ear, boosting her confidence. The way the magic caressed her protectively, was an intoxicating feeling.
The monster in human skin smirked as he held out his hand. With a single flick of his wrist, the warmth and courage she felt was shattered. An eerie, dark power surged forth from his figure, the shadows in the already dark room seemed to dim even more, if that was even possible.
A ripple surged from their depths, and she found all hope abandoning her, only to be replaced with a sense of absolute terror. What she was feeling was beyond anything her scant few years as an Unspeakable had prepared her for. Eldritch magic that screamed of death, decay, and suffering attacked the protective magic that cloaked her form, slowly suffocating it as she tried to fight against it.
They warred for a few seconds before settling into a stalemate. Voldemort's red eyes narrowed minutely. Lily held her breath. Had he noticed something wrong?
"Impressive mudblood. I would never have thought the Lady of a 'Light' family like yourself would resort to such Dark magic. I can see why Severus is so infatuated with you."
Lily flinched at Sev being brought up. She had never been attracted to him even during their childhood, but she knew he had always carried a torch for her. She had let him down easy long before she started dating James, but it looked like he was somehow involved in this attack, which hurt even worse.
"He asked me to spare your life. I'm sure this doesn't surprise you. He always was very straightforward in his desires. I wonder. How does it feel? Knowing that the talent of the man whose advances you spurned is the only thing keeping you alive?"
Lily shivered. She didn't like where this conversation was going. She hadn't anticipated Voldemort being the chatty type. The sooner he killed her, the sooner the protection would be placed on June and he would never be able to touch her.
"Alas, we must all make sacrifices in war. Your life will secure the loyalty of one of the most talented Potions Master to ever come out of Britain. Rejoice, for Lord Voldemort has decided you are still of use."
Lily's eyes widened and she was about to start casting when a barrage of spells was thrown at her. She stood no chance against the onslaught, and quickly fell. Her last thought before she succumbed to the darkness, was how she had failed her husband and children.
With Lily Potter being thrown against the wall and collapsing, Voldemort made his way to the crib. Peering inside he was met with a cherubic face looking back at him in curiosity. He scoffed as he regarded the child inside.
This was his supposed destroyer? While many would see an adorable little girl, he was beyond such considerations. Paranoia had always been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. Growing up in an orphanage did that to a child.
As he gazed into the inquisitive green eyes, he did not see a child. He simply saw potential. A possible challenger to his rule. Whether the prophecy was false or not, it was prudent to remove any obstacles to his goal. If the obstacle happened to be a child, then so be it.
While he didn't enjoy slaying children, especially magical children, the war did not give him a choice. For the revolution that would allow the people of Magical Britain to live to their fullest potential, Juniper Potter would have to die.
Just as he had done 6 times before, he started laying down the runic circle for the Horcrux ritual. It was ingenious piece of magic he had chanced upon in the restricted section of the Hogwarts Library. Though, without his Potions Professor's help in explaining the concepts, he would have never made any headway.
It allowed him to take a piece of his soul and imbue it within an object. These objects would then serve as anchors to the mortal realm. Even if his body was obliterated, he would live on. With how many he had already made, it was safe to say that Death held no dominion over him, but it wasn't perfect. Not yet.
The Potter child would serve as the final steppingstone that would allow him to stabilize his fractured soul. The magical properties of the number 7 meant that his sanity would stay intact, as tearing the soul held consequences. He already felt he was becoming more impulsive and mercurial. He had held on for almost 8 months, patiently awaiting the opportunity for this very moment.
Drawing his wand across his left palm, a deep cut was made. His blood dripped down onto the circle, and he started the chant. The review session before the assault had ensured he wasn't making any mistakes.
As he continued, he felt the buildup of the magic. Alongside the familiar feeling of the ritual, something foreign was in the air as well. He couldn't tell exactly what it was, but he forged on. A gentle breeze blew through the room. It chilled him down to the bone.
A part of him warned him to stop. What was happening did not match with the previous times he had conducted the ritual. The other part urged him on, telling him to ignore anything out of the ordinary. He was so close to his goal. It was too late to stop.
Throwing caution to the wind, he continued undeterred. After minutes of chanting, the circle glowed crimson as he lifted his wand to make the sacrifice.
"Goodbye, Juniper Potter. Avada Kedavra!"
It was then that Voldemort saw movement from the corner of his eye.
A childish voice cried out "No! Junie!"
Voldemort watched in horror as the interloper he now recognized as the elder Potter child throw himself in front of his spell. Almost instantly, he tried to defend the child from the Killing Curse. He had ordained Juniper Potter as the target, and if someone else died at this moment, there would be severe consequences for him.
Unfortunately, it was too late. The curse struck Harry Potter's chest and seemed to course around him like electricity. Without any warning, the curse rebounded and shot towards Voldemort before he could even realize. Even his ritually enhanced reflexes couldn't save him from the blinding speed at which the light hit his body.
Sheer agony unlike anything he had ever experienced before engulfed his very being. He saw the Killing Curse destroying his body. All his hopes and plans didn't matter now. The pain and suffering he was feeling was all that he could think of.
He screamed and felt his soul being ejected out from his body as an explosion ripped through the room, destroying the surroundings. The force jettisoned him out of the window, and he flew into the night sky on instinct with no direction, wanting to do nothing but get away from the Potter cottage.
In the aftermath, he was never able to figure out that the ritual had worked as intended and torn off a piece of his soul. That piece had then gone directly into Harry Potter, the boy who had interfered in the ritual.
It was that scene of destruction that Sirius Black stumbled upon as he skidded his motorcycle next to the curb and dumped it before running towards the cottage. With his wand out, he carefully made entry. Sweeping the room and throwing out a Hominem Revelio to check for enemies, he stilled when the charm revealed four presences.
Rushing towards the nearest presence, he saw his best friend James laid out on the floor, blood pooling around his form. "Oh fuck. James!" He cried out as he immediately started assessing the damage, just like he was trained to at the Auror Academy.
Using what basic medical skills he possessed, Sirius managed to stanch the bleeding and get James to down a few potions before spelling him awake. James coughed and sputtered as he was forcefully brought back to consciousness.
"Lily! Where's Lily and the kids?!" were the first words out of his mouth once he could breathe again.
"The Revelio I cast showed they were upstairs. They're alive James, but I needed to prioritize you. Your presence was very weak compared to theirs. Can you get up?"
James struggled onto his side as he motioned Sirius to help him. "Help get me up and we can check on them."
Sirius obliged and hoisted James to his feet and supported him as they both made their way upstairs. The destroyed door let them glance inside and what they saw troubled them. Traces of blood on the floor.
James yelled out "Lily!" as he pulled away from Sirius, ignoring his pain, while rushing over to his unconscious wife.
Sirius immediately went to the second prone form lying still, his godson Harry. Flipping him over, he first checked for a pulse, and found one. It was a weak, and thready, but he was still alive, and that's what mattered the most.
"James! Harry is ok for now, but we need to get you all to Mungo's as soon as possible. Is Lils okay?"
James nodded. "She's alive. She's unconscious, but her head's bleeding, so I don't want to wake her up."
Sirius nodded. "Okay, let me check on Junie and we can portkey over to Mungo's. I'll send Albus a message and he can meet us there. Expecto Patronum."
A silvery dog formed from his wand and waited at his feet. "Dumbledore! James and his family were attacked by Voldemort. They're all alive, but we'll be at St. Mungo's shortly. Send a couple of the Order to lock down the scene and get some wards around the cottage up."
With a flick of his wand, the dog floated out of the room and into the night sky, heading towards Albus Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts. He ran over to the crib and found little Juniper lying down her crib looking up at him with curious eyes.
A breath he didn't know he was holding came out. Taking a few deep breaths to calm down, he picked her up. "Hey little June bug. It's your favorite Uncle Padfoot. Your mummy and brother are hurt, so we're going to the hospital."
"Pa'foo!" she squealed and hugged him tightly. Sirius sighed. It looked like she was okay for the most part. Though, the trauma of what almost happened would no doubt haunt her when she was old enough to understand what she had survived.
"There, there Junie. Hold onto me tight? Ok?" He felt her little head nod against his chest as she squeezed his neck. "Good girl."
Sirius called out. "James?"
"Is she alright, Sirius?"
"She's fine James. Though I would feel better if a Healer looked at her."
James nodded. "Me too. Let's get to Mungo's. I can grab Lily. Can you get Harry?"
"Of course. Give me a second." Sirius reached down and gently picked up his godson, cradling him to the other side of his chest next to his baby sister.
"Grab onto Lily and put your arm on my shoulder. Are you sure you can hold on?"
Complying with the request, James hugged Lily in his left arm while his right wrapped around Sirius' shoulder. "Ready."
"Hold on tight. Apollo's Temple!"
As Sirius uttered the last syllable of the portkey activation phrase, the group felt a jerk as they were collectively dragged across space towards the emergency wing specially reserved for DMLE personnel.
They landed gently on to the surprisingly soft floor. Sirius immediately leapt to his feet and called out. "Auror Sirius Black. Badge number Bravo-One-Five-Eight. I have 4 patients in varying conditions that need help now!
The door burst open as a squad of Healers and accompanying nurses rushed towards the group. One of the Healers directed a couple nurses to follow him as he hurried towards James. The blood and wounds on his shirt obviously drawing their attention.
Sirius felt a pair of hands wrap around his unconscious godson as they pulled him away and laid him out on the side. Various colors lit up the room as diagnostic spells were being cast one after the other. A nurse squatted in front of him and held her hands out to receive Juniper.
Sirius handed her over and the nurse started cooing over her while her wand skillfully twirled in the air, letting out the occasional stream of bubbles while also sending a few quick diagnostic spells in between. Juniper was entranced by the bubbles, giggling in delight while unknowingly being scanned from head to toe for any abnormalities.
Sirius heard one Healer yelling out. "Patient is having a seizure! I need the two of you to help me stabilize him now!"
He saw it was the Healer that was managing Harry, and his heart clenched. Surely, he would be alright? After all, the rest of them seemed to be fine. Why not Harry?
He saw his godson struggling against the nurses as the healer cast spell after spell. He heard the Healer muttering under his breath. "What the hell is going on? This should be working. Why isn't it working?!"
Harry's struggling got more violent as the nurses were having trouble holding him down. His feet were shaking as his body flailed from side to side. An unearthly scream emanated from his mouth, startling all those around them.
Sirius yelled out "What the bloody hell is happening to him?!"
"I don't know!" The lead Healer shouted back. "None of the standard spells that deal with cardiac events are working! It looks like he's having a seizure but it's unlike any seizure I've ever seen before. The screaming is not normal at all."
"Well bloody do something then! Please! Help him!" James cried out while struggling to get up from the ground.
The Healer grit his teeth and looked down at the boy he was working on. His eyes flicking back and forth from the flailing figure. There was something wrong with this scenario, but he didn't know what. That left him only one choice. A risky one, but something that would at the very least keep the boy alive.
Lifting the necklace that all Healers are given when they graduated the Healer Academy to be used for extreme emergencies only. He spoke. "Healer Jonathan Swift, invoking Patient Preservation Protocol Alpha-1."
Immediately, the nurses put more of their weight onto Harry and one pinched either side of his jaw, keeping it open. Healer Swift bent down and uncorked the tiny vial that was on the end of his necklace. With only the slightest hesitation, he poured the liquid into Harry's throat.
There was a short moment of gargled screams as the potion was forced into Harry's mouth, but it stopped abruptly. Harry's body went limp, and Sirius thought for a horrible moment that he was dead.
The Healer cast a few spells and sighed in relief.
"Patient has been contained. Draught of Living Death has put him in a suspended state. No adverse reactions detected. Moving inside and requesting consultation with cardiothoracic and spell damage specialists."
Sirius breathed out heavily. Harry wasn't dead, he was only put in a death-like state. It was better than the alternative, though only slightly. From what the Healer was saying, they still needed to find out what was happening.
Turning to the side, he saw that Lily was now conscious and looking around in confusion. The Healer was still working on James as he groaned while they summoned the numerous splinters inside his body out of him.
"Is she okay?" He asked the nurse who was monitoring Lily.
"She's going to be fine. Minor concussion from the looks of it. We managed to ascertain there was no other major damage to the brain. She's going to be disoriented for a bit, but given another couple of hours and few doses of potions, she should be up and on her feet."
"That's good." Sirius said as he saw Lily's eyes widen when they noticed him.
"How are you feeling, Lily?" Sirius spoke while holding her hand.
"Sirius?! Where are we? Are Harry and June okay?!" she hurriedly interrogated him.
"Don't worry, Lils. We're at Mungo's. You're safe. All of them are safe. James is being worked on right now, but he's going to live. June was perfectly okay. As for Harry… I don't know. There's something wrong, but the Healer didn't know what. He's going to bring him inside to consult with some other specialists. Right now they have him sedated under Draught of Living Death."
Lily's eyes shook as a sob broke out of her mouth. "It's all my fault! I thought I had saved them both! I had stunned Harry and kept him in the closet. How in Merlin's name did he get hurt?!"
Sirius shushed her. "Shh. It's okay, Lily. There's a lot of things that we don't know about what happened. It's best to not jump to any conclusions. All we can do right now is be happy that your family survived the attack. Many can't say the same."
Lily nodded as her head turned away from him, watching the Healers and nurses working on James.
Sirius sighed and cursed his stupidity. What had he been thinking when he convinced them to switch to Peter? He was the reason they had all nearly been killed by Voldemort, and the guilt was eating him up right now.
A dark part of him was baying for blood. Peter's blood. They had all trusted him and kept him around for years, despite all his flaws. They had accepted him into their circle, and this was how he had repaid them. His hand trembled as a myriad of dark curses came to mind.
Curses that would destroy a man and make him beg for the death. The kind that his family collected, created, and specialized in. If anyone deserved to suffer under them right now, it was Wormtail. A growl came from his throat as he thought about the traitor.
He got up and started walking out of the emergency ward, convinced that he would go out and get justice for James and his family. As he was halfway to the door, he heard someone call out to him.
"Pa'foo! Pa'foo!" a shrill voice cried out.
Turning around he saw Juniper crying and reaching out for him. Seeing the fat tears running down her cheeks gave him a moment of clarity. In that moment, any thoughts of revenge and justice disappeared. He wanted to be nowhere else but hear.
Making his way back, he collected Juniper from the nurse and started lightly bouncing on his feet. "Easy there, June Bug. I got you. Uncle Padfoot's got you."
Her crying slowly ceased as he gently rocked her in his arms. He continued whispering to her as she closed her eyes. Looking around and seeing James and Lily smiling at him, and Harry peacefully sleeping next to them, he knew he made the right decision.
Right now, his family needed him. Revenge could wait.