In the sitting room of a homey cottage located in Godric's Hollow a little family was enjoying the evening of 31st October.
James Potter, Auror of the Ministry of Magic, messy raven hair, hazel eyes covered by a pair of spectacles, with a lean and wiry frame, was sitting on the sofa, his wand on the table, watching fondly as his wife and firstborn and heir were playing in front of him on the floor. Despite the current climate, he never considered himself more lucky than at this moment. He had a lovely wife he loved with all his heart and a son he intended to spoil rotten and teach him everything he knew. He was a bit sad his parents would never have the chance to know their grandson, but he carried on, for the sake of his family of three.
Lily Potter née Evans, Charms Master and retired Unspeakable because of pregnancy, with auburn hair and glittering green eyes was currently on the floor tickling her 1-year-old son. It was because of moments like this that she was able to forget about the war, about the prejudice she endured in this new, wonderful and corrupt world she entered when she was eleven, able to forget for an instant about the prophecy regarding her precious baby. She never trusted Albus Dumbledore and the fact that he thought a toddler to be the defeater of an extremely talented wizard with decades of experience did nothing to alleviate her doubts. He was too confident and she always caught the thoughtful look in his piercing blue eyes when he looked at little Harry. She would do anything in her power to shelter and nurture her baby, to protect him from this war and let him grow up with love, without the worries of war upon his shoulders. Prophecies were always overrated anyway.
Harry James Potter thought nothing of the frown that creased his mother's face. He noticed she was a bit preoccupied and tried his best to make her happy. In the mind of the toddler, he achieved his goal when he made her smile when he gurgled incomprehensible words at her. He could utter a few words but hey, words were big and difficult! He was startled from his internal thoughts when he was hurriedly picked up by his mother and they run up the stairs of their two story cottage. He could hear his father's yells from there.
"Lily, it's HIM! Take Harry and go! I'll try to distract him!"
Lily could do nothing but sob in despair from what she knew was to come. She didn't think even for a moment that her husband could stall Lord Voldemort for more than a couple of minutes. She sobbed harder when found herself unable to apparated. Evidently Voldemort left nothing to chance. Her wand was still in the living room and without it she couldn't make a portkey, not that it would work. She run to the nursery and locked the door behind her, putting everything in sight in front of it in hope it would be enough.
She put Harry in the crib and cut her hand on the corner of the table beside it to draw blood.
It was her last hope. Even with her wand she knew she was no match for the Dark Lord and this was the only thing she could think of. She let out an heart wrenching wail when she heard the infamous words of the Killing Curse resonating in the house followed by a thump. Her James…
Shaking herself, she spread the blood on a part of wall beside the crib, her son watching in interest with his green eyes that were the same as hers. She often marveled at the resemblance he had with his parents. He looked like a mini-James but with her eyes, a little of his bone structure similar to hers.
The wall glowed briefly before sliding out, a single vial containing a golden liquid inside. She quickly took the vial and closed the secret safe again. Lily knelt in front of her baby, telling him again and again how much she loved him. She could not fathom a life without him, he precious little bundle of joy. She carried him for nine months before giving birth and since then, her life was centered around him. She would do anything to save him, even sacrifice herself.
She coaxed him to swallow the golden liquid, stashing the vial under the crib afterwards. She picked him up for the last time, hugging him for all she was worth, not being able to stop the stream of tears flowing from her eyes, barely noticing that his cheeks acquired an healthy glow and the cold that plagued him for a week seemed to wash away.
She heard the sound of feet climbing the stairs and getting closer and closer to the nursery.
The door was blasted open and there, in all of his ugly glory, stood Lord Voldemort. Bald head and serpentine features, black robes that gave the impression that shadows clang on them and his most impressive and terrifying feature, blood red slitted eyes that held no mercy for no one.
Lily knew, there and then, that she would not live the night. She placed the baby inside the crib, standing in front of it with her arms open wide as if to protect him from the evil standing just outside the door.
Voldemort let out a cruel chuckle. He entered with measured steps the room, casting an uncaring glance at the new environment, before focusing his gaze on the woman before him, the only thing between him and his fated enemy, which he had all the intention of eliminating this very night. No sense in leaving possible weaknesses around.
"Stand aside, I have no quarrel with you." He stated in a cruel voice. He may just have killed her husband, but even that was just collateral damage. He only wanted the boy, nothing more. He would let the mudblood live and in the meantime secure himself the loyalty of one of his most useful Death Eaters.
Lily wailed in response. "No! Please, take me instead, kill me!"
He growled in annoyance. "Stand aside, stupid girl!"
"Not Harry, please not Harry! Take me instead!"
Lord Voldemort had no patience to deal with her left. "Avada Kedavra" He intoned softly, a green light racing from the tip of his yew wand and colliding in her chest. She crumbled to the floor without a sound.
He looked at the evidently agitated toddler in the crib, his eyes never leaving the motionless form of his mother. Harry could not understand what happened, but he knew the red-eyed man did something bad to his mother. He looked up and found the bad man looking at him with an unnerving stare.
"Harry Potter, the Chosen One…" Voldemort said softly. "Well, no reason to prolong this, you will never defeat me, I will make sure of that tonight."
He brought up his wand and aimed at the now crying baby. "Avada Kedavra"
Then, the most inexplicable thing happened in front of him. The Killing Curse, which had never failed him before, the unstoppable curse, rebounded on the child's forehead and came back towards him at doubled speed. Too stunned from the happenings in front of him, the Dark Lord was a moment too late and the curse struck him in the chest. He let out a piercing wail as he felt his soul being ripped from his body and he soared through the air, searching for a place to regain his lost strength, sure in the belief that his followers would track him and bring him back to power. He left the house leaving behind his cloak, wand and a pile of ashes. In the crib a still crying toddler with an angry looking lightning bolt scar on his forehead.
OoO
In front of 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, sat a tabby cat with circles around its eyes, stiffly perched upon the low wall surrounding the garden of the house.
All of a sudden a soft "pop" was heard and an elderly man with a questionable fashion sense stepped into the light, took out a strange device and clicked it, causing the lights of the various street lamps to flicker out of life.
The man was tall, with long hair and long silvery beard that could be tucked inside his belt. He wore a purple robe and a cloak that touched the ground. His eyes were sparkling behind half-moon spectacles in the feeble light projected by the moon, his nose crooked, as if broken multiple times.
He swiftly made his way beside the cat, saying softly.
"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."
The cat narrowed its eyes toward Dumbledore and in a single motion transformed into a witch, with her hair drawn into a tight bun with glasses that remarkable looked like the circles around the cat's eyes.
"I'll have you know, Albus, that I've been sitting here all day, watching the people inside the house and let me tell you, they are the worst sort of Muggles there is! Are you sure you should leave the boy here?" She finished hesitantly.
"Yes Minerva, the boy has to stay hidden from our world until such a time comes that it is safe for him to rejoin our society without fear of retaliation from Voldemort's servants. The Dursleys are his only relatives left."
"So it's true… Lily… James…?" She asked.
Dumbledore grimly nodded, "Ah, I'm afraid only little Harry is still alive."
They were interrupted by a loud rumbling sound. Turning towards its origin, they saw a giant of a man flying downwards on a motorcycle, a bundle of blankets in his arms.
The man, Rubeus Hagrid, landed in front of the house and carefully made his way towards the two professors.
"Headmaster… little 'Arri 'ere as you asked." He concluded with a strangled sob.
Dumbledore nodded his thanks and silently took the bundle from Hagrid and made his way towards the door of the house. He deposited the toddler in front of the door and tucked an envelope in the blankets.
"Thank you Hagrid. I think… we should go now. After all, it's a time for celebration with the defeat of Voldemort." He said softly.
McGonagall nodded sharply, sparing a sad glance toward the child, before transforming again into a cat and running away from the house.
Hagrid sobbed a little more and wiped his nose in a large handkerchief, then waved his goodbyes to the Headmaster and made his way to the motorcycle, heading to his house for a night of drinking.
Dumbledore looked one last time to the baby, before nodding, as if reassuring himself of something, then disappeared with another soft "pop".
The lights returned to their previous brightness, but another two people emerged from the shadows and walked to the house.
A woman, in her mid-thirties, with long black hair tied into a ponytail and wearing nicely crafted blue robes. She had an heart-shaped face and warm grey eyes, watching fondly the bundle on the step, walking to it before gently picking it up and rocking the baby back and forth.
The man, in his mid-thirties too, had short brown hair streaked with grey, was wearing black robes and rectangular spectacles. His jaw was angular and had high cheekbones, his startling blue eyes held a piercing quality to them and spoke of wisdom and knowledge.
He approached his wife, who was cooing at the baby and put an arm around her waist.
"Did it work properly Penny?" He asked concerned.
Penerelle nodded, still holding the baby gently. "Yes, the Elixir prevented his death, but this scar… it unsettles me Nicholas, it reeks of dark magic." She concluded, a bit worried.
"Here, let me have a look." He gestured to the baby and took him into his arms.
He took out his wand and started to mumble powerful revealing and checking spells under his breath. Seeing as he got no results, he cast another set of more ancient spells created to indentify particular cases of dark magic and when the results came back to him, his lips set into a thin line, a frown creasing his brow.
Perenelle, who was anxiously waiting for her husband to reply, almost yelled at seeing his expression. "What is it Nicholas?! Is he okay?"
The man smiled a grim smile, but his frown didn't leave his face. "Yes, my dear. It seems Voldemort isn't as dead as we are led to believe, I'm afraid."
"What?!" She asked, a little ghastly.
"Yes, the scar… it's a Horcrux Penny. We are lucky it's still recent and we know how to remove it or it would have become a pain in the years to come. We don't know how it would have affected the boy in the future, but… to create a one in a living vessel… that's unheard of, unless the soul is already so mauled that it could split again without his noticing." Nicholas finished, letting his wife draw her own conclusions.
She quickly snatched the baby from his arms and cradled him protectively. "What are we going to do now Nick? I know we haven't seen Lily in at least a couple of years, but I'm sure they made arrangements for the placement of their son in case of their deaths… and if the stories she told me about these Muggles are true, I don't think she would have left him here."
He frowned again. Now that he thought about it, he was sure they indicated a list of foster families in their wills. For it to be discarded so openly by Albus… he would think about it in the future.
"You're right, I distinctively remember that Black fellow was his godfather, but if what I heard is correct, he betrayed them and now is on the run. Lupin fled the country already and the Longbottoms are still in hiding. I don't know where else he could be placed otherwise."
Nicholas looked at his wife and almost melt down in the lawn. She looked down with such an expression… a mix of longing and regret it was almost painful for him to look at. She had been holding the boy for less than a few minutes and she was already all over him. Could this be it? Their chance, finally?
They had tried, during the centuries, to have a child of their own but unfortunately, not even the Elixir could help them there. Numerous miscarriages and various stillbirths weighted heavily on their hearts and in the end, they simply gave up their hopes for a baby of their own. Sure, there were adoptions, but in the end they never tried it. Now though… maybe this was a sign. The baby had just lost his parents and they Nicholas was more than willing to raise a child and certainly it would be better that leaving him with those Muggles.
He adopted a determined look on his face and draped an arm around his wife's waist, watching as she made funny sounds for the now awake little boy. The decision was almost made for him when those startling green eyes set upon Penny and he said. "Mama?"
Perenelle had a pained expression on her face, knowing that Harry was not hers but was startled out of her musings when Nicholas kissed her temple and whispered into her ear.
"Would you like to raise him, Penny?"
She gazed up and looked hopefully into his eyes. "A-Are you sure? I mean, I know we never had a child of our own but still… wouldn't it be wrong for us to take him when he isn't ours?"
Nicholas looked at her lovingly, "Dear, you know that Lily and James wanted him to grow up loved and cared for, if for it to happen we have to make him our own, that so be it. You know as well as I do that there are rituals that could make this true and we could be parents, think about it Penny."
Her resolve faltered a little and she whispered brokenly, almost not believing the opportunity presented before them. "Really?"
"Really, now let's get out of here and take him home with us, he needs all the rest possible to recover from this ordeal." He kissed her softly on the lips and strengthened his grip on her, before he disapparated them to their home.
It would be more than ten years before the Wizarding World would meet Harry Potter again, not that they would know.