Prologue –
All Hallows Eve was a time famous throughout magical history, it was a time when the walls around the world of the living grew thin and great and powerful workings of magic could be accomplished when at other times they might fail. It was an All Hallows Eve when Nicolas Flamel succeeded in forging the Philosophers Stone, and it was an All Hallows Eve when four friends decided to create a school for magic users to learn and grow in safety.
This All Hallows Eve in 1981 was no different.
A tall figure, cloaked in shadow and wreathed in malice strode slowly down the empty cobbled lane, the laughs and shrieks of children could be heard across the village, but none were near enough to worry the figure.
Seemingly at random, the figure stopped and raised their arm, as the dark sleeve slipped backwards it revealed long pale fingers grasping a bone white wand with black runes branded across its surface. A flick of the wand and a wispy smoke gathered at its tip, compacting into the form of a fragile looking bird that flapped away from the figure, ascending into the night sky quickly before disappearing from view.
Moments later, the bird returned carrying a scrap of parchment in its beak. It circled the figure before dropping the parchment and dissolving into a cloud of smoke that dispersed in the cool night air. The figure plucked the note out of the air and read its contents aloud in a cold high voice.
"Potter's Lodge is found at the end of Hazel Lane in Godric's Hollow" Silence followed the announcement before the figure laughed, a single peal escaping his waxy lips. The man, for the laugh revealed that it was indeed a man, raised his wand for a second time, again a smoke-like substance seemed to gather at the tip of his wand, clinging to the end as he swept it from left to right before bringing it to his lips and whispering a short phrase.
Like a tidal wave, the smoke exploded from the wand tip, erupting outwards it swept through the village. It climbed through windows, it crept under doorframes and slipped down chimneys. Blanketing the village in silence as every mortal in the village fell immediately asleep, children collapsing in the streets in their costumes, babies quieting in their cribs and elders sinking into Morpheus' embrace.
All except the figure, and a small cottage which seemed to divert the smoke, it's flow parting around the home, unable to find entry. Thwarted by the wards around the home, the smoke settled across the rest of the village before fading from view as silence fell upon the village.
Inside the cottage a husband and wife were whispering their goodbyes, to each other and their son. James Potter, Prongs to his friends, Master of Transfiguration and Lord of the Potter family, ushered his wife upstairs, kissing her quickly and then hurrying to the front door, knowing that he could only buy his family a little time together.
Lily Potter wept softly as she carried her infant son upstairs to his room, knowing she had just left her love to be killed, knowing she would never again see he is infuriating smirk, but also knowing that if they were to save their son, she would need to say goodbye as well.
Lily placed Harry gently into his crib, giving him his favourite toy, a small black stuffed dog, before she kissed him on the cheek and turned to face the door.
Downstairs James Potter gripped his wand tightly and waited for the end, he would give Lily as much time as possible with Harry to say goodbye, he could feel the wards that layered the home and beyond those, the wards Voldemort had placed over the village, there would be no escape for them. He waved his wand and with a muttered "Expecto Patronum" he summoned his glowing white Patronus.
"Find Padfoot and tell him to get here soon, Harry will need looking after" he spoke the words sadly and with a solemn nod, the ghostly stag turned and galloped through the wall, seeking out Sirius, James' brother in all but blood.
As the stag fled from the home, Voldemort watched it turn North and speed away, assuming it was a call for help, he turned back to the house and with a gesture and effort of will, he tore the front wall from the home. Brick and wood crumbled and scattered across the garden and there, in the remains of the doorway, stood James Potter.
"I will offer you one last time" Voldemort spoke as he approached, "join me, join my army and I will spare you. I will even spare your mudblood wife." Voldemort did not mention that he would offer her up to young Severus as a reward, no need to inform Potter of that yet. Raising his pale wand, a green light shining at the tip "Serve me or die here and now Potter. After all, you can always have another heir."
James stood tall and held up his wand though he had no intention of using it before giving his reply.
"I would rather die than kiss your boots Voldemort, Potter's don't kneel."
There was a pause and, as the charming expression on Voldemort's face slipped away, James' last thought was of his wife and son, of the future they could have had, before green light flashed James was gone.
"A shame to waste such talent" Voldemort muttered to himself as he stepped over the unmoving body, slightly disappointed at the lack of resistance from the Transfiguration master, but it was not uncommon for his opponents to be caught by his speed and power, so he continued into the house.
The frame of the structure groaned, not made to stand with only three walls, but it did not collapse, and Voldemort would not be tarrying much longer. He reached the landing and turned to the left, hearing frantic breathing from behind the door there. Another flick of his wand and the door crumbled, rotting to mulch in an instant, revealing Lily Potter stood between him and the crib.
An annoyance, he had promised the girl to Severus as a reward, she was not untalented for a mudblood, and he was a generous master.
"Move aside girl, I only require the boy to die." The stupid girl shook her head and brandished her wand, crying all the while.
"Please, not Harry! Take me! Spare my boy!" She was incessant, desperate, and frankly irritating, he had already offered to spare her, why would she not just let him pass. He sighed angrily.
"I have offered once and I will not do so again, move aside girl!" She shook her hand frantically and stepped forward, her wand pointed at him as she opened her mouth. A second flash of green and she fell silent and still.
He had given her the chance to live, it was not his fault she would not take it, perhaps he could give young Severus a muggle transfigured to look like her, he was a talented wizard and loyalty deserved reward but even Voldemort had a limit to his mercy.
It was as he mused over the young Potions Master in his service that he heard a rustling from the crib in front of him.
"Ah the boy from the prophecy" he raised his wand for a third time, "I am sorry child, but for me to rule, some sacrifices must be made." He spoke the words as the young boy turned away from him in his sleep and as the curse crossed the distance between his wand and the boy time slowed to a crawl.
The parents had sacrificed themselves, willingly and without attempting to defend themselves, all while thinking of the futures they were giving up. The sacrifice was made and now the protection they had wrought was triggered. With a blinding flash, the emerald curse met a golden red web that surrounded the boy, and as the opposing magics met, there were only two possible outcomes. One magic would be more powerful than the other.
The killing curse, while normally unstoppable, was not a truly powerful spell, it was an evocation, instantaneous and requiring only hatred and a modicum of talent to cast, dark magic but compared to some spells it was sometimes seen as a more merciful curse than the withering or blood boiling curses that could be used instead.
The killing curse met the protection that two parents love and hope for a future had fuelled, all the days they could have had together sacrificed to cast, and it was rebuffed. The green curse rebounded, and the dark lord had but a moment to be shocked before he was engulfed by pain as his physical form was destroyed and, as barely a shadow clinging to the world of the living, he fled in agony.
However, there was a side effect of this conflict between magic, while the protection had stopped the curse, the heat and light the brief collision had generated had not been stopped. And so, young Harry was left with a scar, starting above his left eye a jagged burn crossed from above his left eye to below his right eye.
The Boy-Who-Lived, was blinded.
A/N
I am a first time author on here but completely open to comments and suggestions. I am *planning* on having this run through all 7 years of Hogwarts, and possibly beyond.
Let me know if you like this, its been rattling around in my head for a while.
