Another green light flashed. Harry was dead. Voldemort's job was done. An unfortunate moment of connection had occurred, but Voldemort brushed it off. Nothing would happen. It wasn't important. He had blasted the house and its inhabitants beyond repair, and that was what counted.
But, alas. Voldemort was wrong. Something in the Potter house was stirring. A tiny being curled tighter into himself within the rubble. Weakly crying out for his mother, the baby was alone and scarred. Something very wrong had happened. He fell asleep and for a moment, everything in the world was right.