*DISCLAIMER IN FIRST CHAPTER*

Hey hey! So... I'm back. Again. Basically my hands have gotten worse and I'm pretty useless with them but I've been working slowly on this chapter (really slowly, I know) Also I have a matter of months left at school and that means a hell of a lot of exams so obviously these are my priority but if you're still here with me then thanks! I totally love you all. Enjoy!

PS: I wanted to get this to you asap so I haven't really edited it, apologies for all mistakes!

The floorboards shifted under the weight of the unwelcome visitor, and Petunia found herself surprised by the fact-a strange feeling considering the circumstances-that the dark wizard looked almost as if those lank feet didn't touch the floor at all and he simply flowed with a wicked grace wherever he went. The broken debris of splintered wood was all that remained of the impeccably white door, the hinges still swung from the fragmented frame and the bronze handle had been flung across the room. Petunia shifted her head, raising it from it's defensive bow, her arms were still spread and as she looked to her death. Fleetingly she wondered what a sight she must make; probably like a grounded eagle with its feathers nervously plucked from its too long neck and its gritty feet gnawed and shaking. Her thoughts however were ceased when she saw him. Governing the doorway, he stood as an impregnable wall of solid vigour and while his face held torturous pledge, Voldemort was able to give a distinctly blasé impression-like one may sport while in attendance of a particularly boring and mundane meeting. He twisted his wand aimlessly between his emaciated, bone like fingers, as he sauntered through the threshold, his gaze wandered the whole room, seemingly bored and disinterested with his quivering target. Petunia herself was scarcely breathing, she was fighting every urge to cower and flee; escape the danger. Yet dutifully she stood tall, her head held high and body posed in front of the man's true objective. She swallowed her trepidation audibly, her breath finally escaping in deep puffs as her eyes, wide but determined, connected with Voldemort's own, they were like oceans of red; the blood of all his victims, inexorably cut down, their families slaughtered and executed like cattle. Every single act of malice shimmered in the barbarous pools and Petunia was staring straight into those dank depths.

"Don't hurt him!" somehow, from somewhere deep within her quivering mass Petunia pulled forth her voice, it was a plea laden with fear yet still it carried strength. "Please, just..." She stuttered, the words felt heavy and thick in her throat "Kill me. Just kill me and leave." Her voice was barley above a whisper yet still it managed to crack with the effort. Her eyes, still fixed on those horrid red, saw as they began to crinkle with a humorous smile.

Voldemort couldn't believe it. This filthy muggle would surely have made a worthy Gryffindor. Foolish and foul. He couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips as he saw the woman screen the child from him and heard her pleading notes. His laugh caused her tremors to increase and fear to radiated from her body so strong that he could smell it. "Stupid child!" he hissed, not a trace of humour left in his voice. "You think you can stand between me?" He laughed once more, though again his voice was void of any humour. She couldn't stop him, they both knew she couldn't. She only slowed down the inevitable. He couldn't be stopped and that gave him power, it rushed though his pale body reaching to every tip, his humourless smirk grew. It seemed every death caused by his wand furthered his strength and that was just another reason to kill the muggle. He didn't expect any reply and raised his wand, just like earlier, to take the fatal shot.

"No please. Just don't hurt him! Listen to me please! Kill me, spare him! Have mercy!" Petunia's gaze was fixed on the raised wand, her words were strung together, though comprehensible all the same. She saw him falter with his movements and counted every extra second she had. In what seemed like a lifetime, though was only a matter of seconds, Petunia thought of the small child behind her. Of her sister. Of her husband. And finally, of her own child- already lost, so young and undeserving of the fate he had been served. So lost in these thoughts, Petunia jumped when the monsters cool voice washed over her.

"Lord Voldemort does not have mercy" The terrible meaning of the words hardly had time to register in the terrified woman's head before a blinding flash of green captured her body and, with a harrowing thud, Petunia Dursley fell to the floor dead. The last thoughts through her mind where of her own failure.

Voldemort lowered his wand and closed his eyes as the power of yet another kill surged through him, his lips were still curled with the remnants of a hideous smile when he suddenly threw his head back and a terrific laugh ripped from his throat. The empty eyes of the now dead woman stared down the wizard though Voldemort paid no heed, his gaze was set on his prize. Funny. This child, supposedly his downfall would be so easy to kill it seemed almost like a joke, and as he absently stepped over the cooling corpse he felt the laughter bubble once more. Power was so easy to gain. It was a shame so many witches and wizards were to weak and afraid to claim it. Never mind, he would purge the world of those unworthy and one day everyone would bow down to there immortal master.

The young boy in the cot looked on with silent question, his naïve innocents not understanding the events in play. 'Why was his aunty taking a nap? Oh! He knew!' With a clap of his small, chubby hands, Harry giggled and bounced excitedly on his bum. 'They were playing!' Harry looked more intently at the tall figure, attempting to identify who it was under the hood. His infant mind ruled out his uncle Vernon, much to skinny! Harry giggled again as he supposedly figured it out. "Dada" he addressed the figure. Harry knew it must be his Dada, they had exactly the same black dress!

Voldemort simpered to himself, the brat thought him to be his farther. How fun. He does loves to play with his food he thought crudely. Taking yet another step towards the youngster, Voldemort lowered his hood and felt a swell of power as the Potter brat's happiness quickly turned to dread, tears welled in his arced eyes and he shuffled backwards in his crib. Voldemort gritted his teeth as Harry began to wail, fright causing his small body to shudder.

"Quiet child!" he commanded to no avail "You will be with you filthy muggle family soon" The mocking voice had a dangerous edge and the deadly silk voice only served to cause the baby further distress. The weeping grew louder and mumbled words of 'Aney' 'mama' and 'Dada' could be heard spilling from Harry's lips. Voldemort had had enough. His patience tattered, the wizard waisted no time in fixating his aim on his designated mark. This was the kill that would give him true power. To quash the hopes of the ridiculous Albus Dumbledore and show the Wizarding World that no mercy would be served. Those who opposed, those who threatened would always be cut down. No matter who they were. Yet again a sneer made it's way onto Voldemorts pale face, in spite of the babes consistent squall. His flattened nostrils flaring at his imminent victory, so succumb to his abhorrent excitement he needlessly flung his wand backwards and, like a vicious swing of an axe swung it forward, crying the words that would end an era. "Avada Kedavra" For a third and final time in the devastated house of 4 Privet Drive a flash of green erupted.

Whatdya think? Yes? No? I would love to know so don't be shy, leave a review! ;)

AyreO.o