AN: I wrote this story in a couple of days while on holiday. I won't write the whole thought process in my AN, that would be too long. If you're interested, go read it in my note on AO3. Disclaimer: not mine, don't sue. Enjoy!
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Lily Potter stood listening intently to the sounds of battle raging below. James was putting up a fight, and she was itching to run downstairs and help him. But she couldn't. She was her babies' last line of defense. She and James had agreed – if ever their Fidelius was broken (curse the rat and his traitorous ways!) he would buy her the time she needed to either escape or at the very least give the children a fighting chance. She'd already tested the anti-apparition wards and found no escape that way. She could try fleeing on foot or even broomstick, with the babies in a sling, but she didn't know how many Death Eaters he might have brought, and if she was captured they were all dead. Better to face him on a terrain of her own choosing. One she had prepared beforehand.
She was not strong enough to fight him head-on, and neither was James. Not even by working together would they be able to come out victorious, and so it was not victory that she aimed for when she made her stand in her children's nursery. The room was decorated by sequence upon sequence of runic arrays, each activating and amplifying the next. She had spent many evenings painstakingly painting the walls. She hadn't carved them, because if they were lucky the runes would not be necessary, and if they were not lucky... well, one time use would suffice.
She had activated the first sequence as soon as she'd decided that fleeing was not an option, and even now she could feel the drain on her magic. The likelihood of surviving the night had decreased to nihil with the activation, but then that had been the case the moment Peter had betrayed them. At least this way, she'd be taking the bastard down with her while saving her babies.
The noise downstairs died down, and Lily's heart broke. That could only mean one thing. Sure enough, moments later the stairs creaked, with a step too heavy and measured to be anything but Voldemort.
Just then she heard movement behind her, and she felt a pudgy toddler hand patting her back. "Mummy?" a sleepy little voice said, followed by sounds that might be attempts at words but sounded like nonsense. Another rustling sound could be heard as the steps stopped at the top of the stairs. Of course. One baby could not be awake for long without the other following.
"Hush now, dear, mummy's here. Don't fret, my darlings. I love you, both of you, more than life itself, more than the sun and the moon and even magic." She would have continued, but the door to the nursery opened slowly, ominously, and he stepped inside. She turned fully to the door, her heart fluttering in fear. She didn't want to die, she wanted to live and love and give her babies the life they deserved. But the snakefaced bastard entering the nursery had decided otherwise.
She clenched her fists, willing her heart to slow down. She would do what she needed to do, and if he didn't like the consequences... well, he shouldn't have angered the mama bear.
"Lily Potter," the bastard breathed. She said nothing in reply, instead focussing on her children. "Stand behind me now, loves. Mummy will protect you."
They were only fifteen months old, and she never knew how much they understood of what people said to them, but something – either her words, or some primal instinct hard-wired into every human being, made them cling to her back, their tiny hands fisting in her clothes where she stood against the crib they shared. She stretched her arms back to make sure they stayed put, so that she could physically shield them. She didn't have her wand in her hand anyway. The magic would be satisfied. The conditions were almost met.
The bastard's face darkened when she didn't acknowledge him. He hissed in displeasure.
"Step aside, girl," he admonished. She blinked. Did he think that was going to work?
"No," she said, when he actually did look at her expectantly. Oh yeah, just go ahead and murder my babies while I still have a breath in my body, that was going to happen. Not.
The bastard looked at her a moment longer. "You need not die tonight, Lily Potter. You can marry again, mother more children. My new world order would welcome strong witches such as yourself."
Lily closed her eyes for a moment at the confirmation that James was dead. Voldemort seemed to be delusional. Let him murder her world for the dubious pleasure of becoming a brood mare? Even without her children's lives at stake, she'd rather kill herself than be subjected to that.
"Not in this life," she hissed, her hatred for the bastard and all he stood for blazing from her green eyes when she opened them.
The bastard hissed again, but then he started smiling. That was possibly the creepiest thing she had ever seen.
"I am feeling magnanimous," he said silkily. "If you step aside, I will let you keep the girl. I will even leave you alone!"
Lily bared her teeth. The bastard really wasn't getting it, was he? She was not going to choose one over the other! Either he let all of them go, or her death was going to protect her children. At this point, there was no other possible outcome.
"Drop dead," she spat at him.
The bastard sadly shook his head. "Such a waste of potential. I could have overlooked your unfortunate parentage, if only you'd have stepped aside. Very well, you have made your choice clear. I do apologise, but I cannot allow your son to threaten my future. If you will insist on blocking my way... Avada Kedavra."
So intent was he on the children hidden behind her back that he entirely failed to see the flash of triumph in her eyes a moment before the Killing Curse struck and she fell.
Two sets of wide eyes, one hazel and one green, looked up at Lord Voldemort. One baby had a mop of black hair, the other thick auburn locks like the mother. His yew wand pointed first at one, then the other.
Which one was the boy? Why did all babies look so much alike?
On the other hand, did it matter much? With the mother out of the way, nothing was stopping him from being thorough and just killing them both, and then seeking out the other brat that the prophecy might be about.
He took aim – a green light left his wand – and score upon score of runes lit up, powered by a life willingly given. For a moment the green light filled the room, and when it died out there were two babies still standing in their crib, only just realising that their mummy had not moved where she'd fallen. There was a pile of black robes on the floor, and a yew wand lying close by.
Among increasingly panicked calls for 'mummy', then 'dada' which ended in twin wails for anyone that would listen to come help them, several things happened.
First a rat entered the room, looked at the wailing children in a rather un-rat-like manner, twitched its nose and then grabbed the wand in its mouth and scurried out.
Next, an old man with a long white beard and blinding purple robes appeared. He, too, looked at the children, then at the body of the mother and the black robe. He took out his own wand, and performed several spells in quick succession. Then he took up one of the children, doubling the intensity of their wails, as if they could sense they were about to be separated. They made grabbing hands at each other but the old man quickly stepped away and disappeared with the babe in his arms.
Finally, after long minutes, a commotion could be heard. The remaining child had stopped crying when nobody came, tired out by the screaming, but at the sound of a familiar voice the wailing was renewed.
"James? Lily?" the voice called downstairs, frantic with fear. "Oh gods, James! Lily? Lily!"
And then the door burst open, revealing a handsome, dark-haired young man, tears streaming from his eyes. He stood frozen in shock when he saw Lily's body, until the child's cries roused him and he went over to the crib. His voice was thick with grief, but he picked up the screaming child and did his best to sound comforting.
"Hush now, pup, hush now. I'm here, hold onto me. You're safe now, I'm here."
Eventually, the hysterical sobs quieted and the toddler fell asleep in the young man's arms, feeling safe again and exhausted beyond measure.
As soon as he was able, he took his wand and cast a Patronus.
"Remus, please come to Godric's Hollow. It's James and Lily... they're dead. Please, Moony, come quickly. I can't do this alone!"
