A/N- I've debated quite some time how this chapter should be written. After several failed attempts, I finally came up with something that I felt would do justice to the story. I hope you enjoy, and please review! They always help!
Chapter 6
Winds of change swirled around a dark figure seated upon a park bench in the lovely neighborhood of Godric's Hollow. Emerald eyes stared unblinkingly at a beautiful cottage, watching the dark figures that stood, hidden in the side yard.
James Potter was listening intently to the evening news. More death. The news wasn't really news any more, it was more like a very publicized obituary. Yet, he still listened, like all other witches and wizards in the world. Listening, and praying that friends and family members would not be announced.
Lily Potter returned downstairs from placing their young son, Harry in his crib for the night. Harry was just over a year old, and already bore a great resemblance to his father. Lily smiled, trying to imagine what he would be like in a few years. What she didn't realize was…she would never know.
"My lord, are you ready?" A voice rose from one of the cloaked figures standing in the side yard of the cottage.
Red eyes glowed in the darkness, "I am always ready." A white hand reached out from within the second figures' cloak. It was holding a thin wooden wand. "But, where is Peter?"
Silently, the figure on the park bench rose, and crossed the street. It was time, and he was ready.
The red eyes closed, and suddenly a snarl crossed the misshapen snake-like face of the second cloaked figure. "It appears Peter will not be joining us tonight Severus. Stay behind me. You remember the plan."
Flashback
(Taken from J.K.R.'s Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone ch 2)
He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.
When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only family. Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry Furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look.
At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.
End Flashback
By the time James awoke in his chair, it seemed too late. He and Lily heard the creak of the back door at the same time, and within seconds both moved into action. Lily sprinted up the stairs to grab Harry, and James had gone to stop whoever had the idea of breaking and entering in the middle of the night.
Severus stood outside the Potters' home, gloating. They had no chance of survival. None at all. He had hated James his entire life, and although Lily was a mudblood, his real hatred of her began the day she married the Potter idiot, James.
He glanced around, hearing what he believed to be the crunch of the dried grass in the yard.
Looking down at Snape's frozen form, the dark figure's young face smirked. Emerald eyes danced and glinted with triumph.
"You failed." The voice seemed familiar, and yet...it couldn't be...
Those were the last words Severus Snape ever heard.
In his life.
A/N-Sorry it's so short! I thought an update close to the holidays would serve as a nice gift to any readers out there. The lines (by the way) separate scenes. I thought changing up the format of the story for this particular part might be a nice change. More coming soon!