Hello! This is my first story's currently have 10 chapters but planned for more. I will try and update as I can but with work and uni it can be hard! Please let me know what you think. Also I don't have a beta and my spelling and grammar is awful so please let me know if you see any mistakes. Thanks enjoy reading!
Chapter 1 - The Night That Changed Everything
October 31st 1982 - The house at Godric's Hollow was unusually quiet. Four-year-old Harry Potter and his twin sister, Isabella, lay in their small bedroom, fast asleep. They had learned early in life that being invisible was the best way to stay out of trouble. Their parents, James and Lily Potter, no longer paid much attention to them.
It had all changed after the prophecy. The moment Dumbledore declared that Jamie, their youngest brother born on July 31, 1980, was the one destined to defeat Voldemort, the twins had faded into the background of their parents' lives. Jamie was the one in danger, hunted by a monster. The twins were safe, unimportant. Every decision James and Lily made revolved around him now.
At first, Harry and Isabella didn't mind. Their parents were too preoccupied with Jamie to scold them for spilling milk or playing too loudly. But over time, the distance between them grew. The twins' birthdays passed unnoticed, their questions were ignored, and their cries for attention went unanswered.
But danger had found its way into Godric's Hollow.
The night was still, the air heavy with an eerie calm. At Godric's Hollow, the Potter house stood cloaked in protective wards, invisible to the untrained eye. But darkness moved swiftly through the trees.
Peter Pettigrew, hunched and trembling, led Voldemort to the home of his former friends. Each step felt heavier than the last as guilt and fear warred within him. The wards shimmered faintly before them, a barrier meant to shield the Potter family from harm.
Peter hesitated at the edge of the protective magic, his rat-like face pale and drawn. He turned back to Voldemort, his small hands shaking.
"This is it," he croaked.
Voldemort raised his wand, his crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction. The prophecy had led him here. The Potter child born at the end of July was his enemy, the one fated to bring about his downfall. He would strike first, ensuring his survival.
Peter scrambled out of the way as Voldemort raised his wand and spoke the incantation. The wards exploded in a silent burst of light, shattered by Voldemort's power. The rippling force spread out across the house, a warning that something terrible had come. Harry and Isabella woke with a fright, running to their brothers room to escape but they weren't quick enough.
At that moment, miles away in an Order of the Phoenix meeting, James and Lily Potter froze.
"James, the wards!" Lily whispered, her face going white.
James was already on his feet, grabbing her hand. "We have to go, now!"
In a flash, the two Disapparated, their hearts pounding in fear as they reappeared at the edge of their yard. The house loomed before them, still and dark—but the broken wards sent a chill down their spines.
"Get inside," James barked, drawing his wand as he charged toward the house, fighting the wards trying to get in.
The twins looked up as the door opened, their emerald-green eyes locking on Voldemort's crimson gaze.
"Ah, the Potter children," Voldemort said softly, his wand raising.
Harry instinctively moved in front of Jamie's crib, his small arms outstretched. Isabella followed suit, clutching Harry's hand as she stepped beside him.
"Leave us alone," Harry said, his voice shaking but steady.
"Please!" Isabella added, her small voice breaking.
Then it happened. Their words shifted, becoming something ancient, something neither of them understood: "Stop. Don't hurt him.Leave us alone."
Parseltongue.
Voldemort froze in his tracks, his wand lowering slightly. He tilted his head, regarding the twins with a mixture of curiosity and interest.
"Well, what do we have here?"he murmured."Are you scared?"
The Twins shook their heads in defiance. How they understood him he did not know.
For a brief moment, he hesitated. Their defiance and language intrigued him. There was power here, raw and untamed. But he could not be deterred. The prophecy foretold his downfall, and the child in the crib had to die.
"Step aside," Voldemort commanded, his voice cold and sharp.
"No," Harry said, his jaw set stubbornly. Isabella shook her head beside him, her grip on Harry's hand tightening.
Voldemort's patience snapped. "Then you will die for him!"
He raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"
The green light of the Killing Curse shot toward Harry—but the moment it struck him, the magic rebounded. Voldemort's body was obliterated in an instant, his scream echoing as his soul was torn from its shell.
But instead of being cast into nothingness, his wraith-like form was drawn toward Harry. The power surrounding the boy pulled Voldemort into his mind.
Inside Harry's mind, Voldemort saw everything.
He saw Harry and Isabella sitting quietly in a corner as their parents fawned over Jamie. He felt their loneliness, their pain, their yearning for love and recognition.
It struck Voldemort in a way he hadn't expected. Their lives mirrored his own childhood—neglected, unwanted, cast aside. For the first time in decades, he felt something other than anger or hatred. He felt pity. He felt connected with them, he understood.
But the connection was fleeting. A force stronger than anything Voldemort had ever known expelled him from Harry's mind, tearing his soul away and casting it into the void.
The magical backlash ignited the room, flames erupting from the walls as Voldemort's wraith-form vanished into the night.
James and Lily Apparated into the house moments after feeling the wards collapse, their wands drawn and hearts pounding. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin followed closely behind, all four bracing for the worst.
The acrid smell of smoke hit them instantly as they burst through the front door. Upstairs, the nursery was engulfed in flames, and the frantic cries of their children cut through the roar of the fire. James bolted up the stairs, with Lily right behind him, coughing as the smoke thickened.
"Tippy!" Lily gasped, spotting the house-elf's lifeless, burned body in the hallway.
"Lily, go!" James barked, pushing her toward the nursery door as they fought their way through the heat and flames.
Inside the room, chaos reigned. The crib stood precariously amidst falling debris, where Jamie lay unharmed, crying loudly. James rushed forward, ignoring the scorching heat as he scooped Jamie into his arms, noticing the small V-shaped scar etched into the infant's forehead from the falling rubble.
Lily turned, her heart stopping as she spotted Harry and Isabella lying unconscious in the corner of the room. Their tiny bodies were pale, covered in soot, and eerily still.
"James! The twins!" Lily cried, but James had already started for the door, shielding Jamie from the falling embers.
"Sirius! Remus! Upstairs!" James yelled as he carried Jamie to safety.
Sirius and Remus arrived seconds later, wands raised as they conjured protective shields to beat back the flames. Sirius spotted Isabella first, cradling her protectively as he rushed toward the door. Remus knelt by Harry, carefully lifting him into his arms, his face grim as he whispered, "You're safe now."
The group emerged from the burning house and collapsed onto the lawn, coughing and streaked with soot. Lily clutched Jamie tightly, inspecting him for injuries as tears streamed down her face. "He's all right," she whispered, holding him close.
Moments later, a sharp crack signaled the arrival of Dumbledore, his expression solemn as he strode toward them. He knelt to examine each child carefully. When his gaze fell on Jamie's scar, he froze for a moment before straightening, his face grave.
"The Dark Lord came for Jamie," Dumbledore said firmly. "The curse rebounded. Jamie has survived—and marked himself as the one Voldemort sought. He is the Boy Who Lived."
Lily gasped, clutching Jamie tighter. "The prophecy…"
James nodded, his expression pale but resolute. "It has to be him."
Dumbledore's gaze shifted to Harry and Isabella, still cradled by Sirius and Remus. They were beginning to stir weakly, their small hands clutching at the robes of the men holding them.
"The twins are unharmed," Dumbledore said softly, though his eyes lingered on them with an unreadable expression. "But Jamie's destiny will demand everything from you, James, Lily. He will need your full focus—protection, training, guidance. The twins…" He hesitated, stroking his beard. "It may be better for them to be placed elsewhere."
"Placed elsewhere?" Sirius spat, his sharp tone cutting through the night. Isabella stirred in his arms, and his grip tightened protectively. "They're their children!"
"We are their godparents," Remus added, his voice low but trembling with anger.
James and Lily barely glanced at Harry and Isabella before nodding. "Jamie comes first," James said firmly, his focus entirely on his youngest son.
Sirius's jaw clenched as he looked down at Isabella, her tiny hand gripping his robes. Remus held Harry close, his amber eyes burning with quiet fury. "This isn't over," Sirius muttered darkly, sharing a glance with Remus that promised retribution.
As James and Lily huddled over Jamie, completely absorbed by their youngest, Sirius and Remus exchanged a look of despair. Far from the attention of their parents, the twins lay in the arms of their godparents, forgotten in the shadows of the Boy Who Lived.
Far above, Voldemort's spirit drifted through the night, his presence reduced to nothing more than a whisper on the wind."I will return," he vowed, his voice cold and determined.