The last of the line

THE LAST OF THE LINE

By: Savage Amazon

Discaimers: Nothing's mine except the plot of the fic. Don't sue me!

Chapter 1: Once upon a time

“So Harry, what would you like to read tonight?” Lily said walking toward the bookshelves looking for a good bed-time story for her one year old son. “How about this? We haven't read this one yet!” She said taking a book in her hand and she headed towards her son, which gurgled in response. She moved over to the crib, took a seat in the nursery chair next to it, opened the book and began reading it:

“Once upon a time there was a little boy…”

Done with the bed-time story, Lily Potter—a beautiful young woman nearing her thirties, with dark auburn hair and startling green eyes, and a slim figure—closed the book and looked at her now five year old son, practically a miniature version of her husband. Dark black messy hair, high cheekbones, full rosy lips, small cute nose, pale complexion and green eyes just like her mother hidden behind his closed eyelids, the only trait taken from her mother. All in all, the boy was beautiful.

She smiled watching him in his peaceful sleep and turned to walk out the door, but, before she could do so, said door swung open with a tremendous crash against the wall. A very terrorised elder woman—Arabella Figg, the house keeper and very dear and trusted friend of the Potters with a love for cats that neared obsession—came rushing in while at the same time a resounding explosion went off from somewhere down in the first floor. “Lily, hurry, they're here! The Death Eaters! James is keeping them busy, you have to run!”

“What? Oh no!” She turned around, picked up the child who started to stir and looked up at his mom sleepily. “I'm sorry, darling, but we have to go!” The boy, who had awoken at the sound of the explosion, was quickly becoming scared, even more so after taking a look at his worried mother and a terrified Ms. Figg.

He could hear the noises coming from downstairs, the shouts and sounds of battle, and people running up the stairs and towards their room. “Hurry Lily!” She heard her husband call from downstairs. Lily ran to a desk near the corner of her son's room and a sound like a lock clicking open was heard at the wave of her hand. She pulled an envelope out of one of the drawers, and, turning to Ms. Figg, said: “Arabella, you come with me. If anything happens to me and my husband find my sister and give her this letter. Keep an eye on Harry!”

“But Lily…”

“There's no time to argue come on!” And with that she stepped to the side of the desk, waved her hand again, and the illusion on the wall disappeared showing a secret passage.

“Where did this wall come from?” Ms. Figg asked, somehow finding it in her to be surprised, even within the tumultuous moment that had enveloped them.

“It's always been there, but there was glamour on it so that nobody could see it or use it. Come on.” She replied, her words flying out of her mouth as quickly as her legs moved her within the passage. Seeing that Arabella wasn't following, she turned to grab her and pull her through. Harry, who was being carried in his mother's arms, tightened his hold firmly around his mother's neck, shaking all the while.

He was afraid.

He didn't know what was going on, but there were people shouting on the other side of the wall that he never even knew was there and it was dark, getting darker by the second. “Shh, Harry, everything will be fine!” Lily cooed in his ears, trying to calm her scared son. They reached a dead end, and Lily, not the least bit worried, with a wave of her hand made an opening appear by removing the glamour on it, and closed it once more when they were through.

They began running wildly, yet unfortunately they ran into some Death Eaters who were guarding the perimeter, making sure no one escaped undetected. They were spotted by the cloaked men, who sprinted toward the running women, shooting incantations.

Lily kept running faster, still holding Arabella's hand and clinging to Harry, attempting refuge into the woods that isolated her home. Harry kept quite, but continued to shake insistently, he could hear the short, panting breaths that his mother took, understanding that she was tired but too scared to stop and be captured.

Her only son, the only thought that was fixed in her mind as she tried to escape in the darkness of the trees while people at her back tried to hit them down, he was all that mattered. He had to have the possibility to grow, live a life and one day make a family for himself. He could not die this way, this day, not if she could help it.

There were dead bodies every few steps taken littering the ground. Some were Death Eaters, yet, mostly, were family members who fell, some fighting. Some hadn't had time to fight; the attack had been so sudden. Lily kept Harry tightly to herself, his face pushed against her heaving bosom, telling him not to look.

And then, amongst panting breaths and angered shouts, Lily let out a sharp strangled, pained gasp, and fell quiet, her feet giving out beneath her as she fell to the floor with her son still in her arms, courtesy of a slashing curse on her back.

Harry looked up at her scared, trapped underneath her, barely noticing the pain that he felt over his left eyebrow and the flow of a sticky wetness oozing slowly from it. Arabella, more terrified than ever, stopped and bent down to her. “Lily, are you o.k.?” Her tone was hysterical. Lily tried to move, to shift, to get off her poor son, but the deep cut that had been opened on her back didn't allow her to. She was so numb.

“I can't move!” Her voice was so weak, and it hurt so much to talk! “I can't move, I think the cut damaged my spinal cord!” Arabella eyes seemed to want to jump out of their sockets, and she looked at a complete loss as to what to do, so Lily told her. “Quick, take Harry and go!” She shouted as she tried again to move off her son.

“No! I...”

Lily wasn't going to listen to her whine, especially not when there were Death Eaters out to get her son! “GO!” She shouted as, with an almighty twist of her body turned so that she was lying, horribly painfully, on her back, Harry finally freed.

Death Eaters were catching up to them, and little Harry didn't understand what was going on, but his mother was hurt and he didn't know what to do. “Mummy!” He shouted as he was ripped from his mother's body. She was paling, quickly, but she smiled for her son's sake nonetheless, even as her vision began to darken at an alarming rate.

“It's ok, Harry. Take this,” she told him as she took a chain with a pendant out from under her jumper. He knew it as the medallion with the family crest engraved upon it. He'd never been allowed to touch it before. “Wear this at all times, and never let anyone see it.” He tried to speak but she didn't let him. “Promise, Harry!” Her tone terrified him, because it left him with no hope—for what he didn't know—so he nodded, and took the family heirloom in hand trying to stifle his sniffling sobs. She nodded in return. “Ms. Figg is going to take you some place safe!” He'd already been hoisted in the older woman's arms, and as he saw his mother's body getting further away, he shouted, with all the terror that he felt “Mummy! I wanna stay with you!” But Ms. Figg kept on running, and he was getting further and further away from her, and his fear did nothing but increase with every jolting step. Tears were freely running down his cheeks, great racking sobs shaking his small frame.

“Remember what I told you!” She shouted from a distance. She shouldn't yell! It hurt, he could see it. “And remember that I love you!” But he didn't want to remember, he wanted to be told, every hour of every day.

“I'll keep an eye on him! Goodbye Lily!” Arabella answered, but she was far away, she should turn back to make sure that she could hear, Harry thought. But she didn't. And Harry watched as his mother disappeared behind some trees that they had gone around.

Death Eaters were only a few feet away, and, after hearing their shouts, ran after them. “The boy is this way!” They yelled to others of their ranks as the trees that were blocking his mother's view disappeared. But his mother wasn't alone. There were tow Death Eaters standing over her, and even though they were out of hearing range, Harry knew by instinct what they were saying.

“It's the mother, what do we do with her?” One asked, as though not really caring at all.

“Kill her!” And Harry screamed.

Arabella continued to run holding the boy and trying to quiet him down, when a woman's scream came louder than Harry's. He began to squirm, trying to free himself from the hold that was trapping him and reach his mother once again. “Harry no!”

“Mummy!” the word was hushed, but whispered in such anguish that nearly made Ms Figg stumble.

“I'm sorry Harry, we can't go back.” She said out of breath, and he heard her sniffle as well. She was now within the woods, and running was hindered by the uneven, growing earth. To the left she found a perfect place to hide and rest, where, underneath the uneven growth of an ancient oak, some dirt had fallen out, making a dark alcove where two small being such as themselves would never be seen.

“Harry,” she whispered urgently to the boy. “I need you to be very quiet now, Ok! Can you do that for me?” Harry nodded and tried to stifle crying. Yelling could be heard somewhere very close to them.

They waited there, quiet and unmoving for hours, making sure that there was no one else left. And even then, she waited two more hours. They hadn't slept, as exhausted as they were, and jumped at every small sound that reached their ears. Soon enough the Death Eaters moved off, but it was not yet safe to leave, for they could still be spotted. She moved out only at the break of midday, shortly after Harry had finally fallen into a coma-like sleep, induced by all that had happened during the night, and moved on deeper into the woods.

Outside of their haven, far behind them, the Potter's clan was destroyed; it's people exterminated and some homes still in flames. The castle where, only mere hours before, little five year old Harry was sleeping after his mother read him the last bed-time story she would ever read him, had been turned to mere clusters of broken stone.

With everything they'd ever known and loved, Harry Potter and Arabella Figg went on their lonely way to their new life in search of Lily's sister and, hopefully, a good place to hide the last of the Potter line, one of the most ancient and powerful clans ever.

AN: If anyone wants to beat me I'd be really happy. Right now it's my sister Pearl Drop Angel, and I really would like someone else to do it for me. I promise this story isn't to long and I'll update really fast, but please beat me. If you decide to beta, make sure that you know English well enough, though. Otherwise it's pointless. My way of writing is very childish and the only reason why this story isn't like that s because my sis fixed it. Please beta. If you so choose to beta my e-mail is: Savage_Amazon@hotmail.com

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The Last Of The Line

Disclaimers: Not mine, don't sue!

Chapter 2: A time for remembrance

10 years later…

`There were bodies all over, screams coming from all around him. He could feel his mother's shallow breaths on his neck as she ran with him in his arms. It was dark, but their surroundings were illuminated by the burning buildings.

Then, they fell.

He looked at his dying mother as she told him that everything would be fine and, against his will, he was lifted from her and, farther away, in the background, he could hear two voices lingering behind.

“It's the mother. What shall we do with her?”

“Kill her!” He heard a feminine shrill shout of pain and found himself shouting himself….'

He sat bolt upright, panting and sweating awakening from one of his usual nightmares. The boy was around 15, but looked much smaller. He was painfully skinny, severely malnourished. He had black, messy hair, startling green eyes, a small cute nose, full rosy lips, high cheek bones and a very slight tan. There was a strange scar on his forehead, in the shape of a lightning bolt, a reminder of the night in which he lost everything. All in all he was beautiful!

Right on time, as though by clockwork, the door of his uncle's room opened lowdly and closed with a slam. `Here we go!' Thought Harry bitterly. The ceiling of his bedroom—which happened to be the cupboard under the stairs—began to shake under his uncle's heavy and angry footsteps, and, a few seconds later, his door swung open, revealing a very purple faced Vernon Dursley standing in the door frame. Harry was grabbed by the arm and dragged out of his tiny cupboard to be slammed against the closest wall.

“How dare you wake up my family! We work so hard everyday to raise your sorry arse, and how do you repay us? By waking us up with your stupid nightmares! Get up and start on your chores boy, or you'll regret ever being born!” His uncle shouted at his nephew, spreading spit with every word, and let the boy slide to the floor.

This was the morning routing at 4, Privet Drive. Harry would wake up from a nightmare, his uncle would throw him out of his cupboard, insult him and send him to do his chores. It was really starting to get boring.

Harry stood up and made his way to the kitchen to cook breakfast for his family. He'd hoped that today he'd have some leftovers to eat, since he really was quite hungry. His aunt would `forget' to feed him if he didn't finish his chores in time.

He finished cooking, put everything on the table, walked outside and started to water the yard. Shortly after, when he was done he went inside to get ready for school, clean the dishes and see if there was anything he could eat. There wasn't! This would be a week since the last time he ate, and he really felt the effects of it. He finished up and started to walk to the school. Dudley was driven to school every morning by his father on the way to work, while Harry was forced to walk all 2 miles there. He wasn't allowed in the car. The Dursleys were afraid that he'd `pass his freakiness' to them.

Yes, that's right, freakiness. For Harry was not a normal kid. He was the last of his line. The last of the Potter family. A very ancient and renown magical clan, who had been exterminated by Voldemort, known to be the most evil wizard of their time, for the simple reason that he feared being overpowered by one of them, seeing as how much strength the clan possessed.

Harry remembered every little bit of that night, and knew that if one of those men, the Death Eaters, would somehow recognise him, he would be killed as well as everyone he knew. With that knowledge he'd become a very quiet child, not making any friends with anyone. But that could also be attributed to his cousin, Dudley, would beat up anyone who came close to him. He was very shy and subdued. He spoke only when needed, even with his neighbour, Ms. Figg, who had been with him since he was born and watched over him, keeping the promise given to his mother.

He arrived to the school entrance and raised his eye to look up at it. It looked like a prison to him. A two story, grey building with bricked walls and bars covering the windows. His cousin went to some stupid private school, highly prestigious. The only reason for which Dudley went to Smeltings was because his father went there and, thanks to Harry—who did the test for him—he got excepted. Harry had wanted to go to Hogwarts, a nice big public school in Great Whinging, where Ms Figg worked, were they taught magic to the kids who had the ability to do it, and he knew this thanks to Ms Figg, but there were some extra taxes to pay on it that the Dursleys would have never paid for him.

There were a lot of nice kids in the school, despite the way it looked and he would love to spend time talking to them or just hang out like everyone did, but the images of the dead bodies of his whole family came into his mind every time he thought about it. He became traumatised that night, he really couldn't get those images out of his head. He couldn't be normal, he wasn't normal. Ms. Figg had taught him how to control his magic and test his limits, and once he'd unleashed his full powers a few years ago she looked frightened by the amount of it. Ever since then, he knew he was abnormal.

His uncle was right, he was a freak, a waste of space and a burden. After ten years of hearing those words, Harry had started to believe them. It couldn't really be helped, if one is told repeatedly that they are worthless day after day for years, they begin to believe it. It's only natural.

He really missed life with the Potter clan. They were a lively bunch that loved to play pranks on each other or just joke around. Harry was very loved by everyone, being the only Heir of their clan and being as beautiful as he was, what else could be expected!

Life had turned down hill since that day ten years ago.

He and Mrs Figg had hidden for a few days, moving out of their hiding spot only at night when out of the safety of the trees, to go and find another place to hide in. When they finally arrived in Privet Drive, Ms. Figg wasted no time in bringing Harry up to the door and knocking. They looked awful. The very picture of the walking dead—or diseased. They hadn't had a chance to bathe or change clothing in their haste. All in all, they were filthy and exhausted.

When the door opened, a skinny woman with a really high neck and horse face stood in front of them. She looked them up and down and spoke in a very rude tone: “We have nothing for you, go away!” She went ahead to close the door, but Ms. Figg stopped her.

“No, wait! We're not beggars!” The skinny, horse faced women looked at them again and waited for an explanation. “Are you…” Ms Figg started, taking the letter out of her pocket and reading the names on the envelope. “Ms. Petunia Dursley?” She looked at them suspiciously before nodding. Ms. Figg looked relieved and said: “My name is Arabella Figg, I'm a friend of your sister's, Lily.” Petunia looked disgusted at them at the mention of her sister.

“What are you doing here? “e don't want your kind here! Go back where you came from!” She said trying again, but failing, to close the door.

“Please, we can't go back!”

“And why would that be?” She sneered at them.

“Because everything has been destroyed!” Ms. Figg said desperately and hopelessly. Harry looked at Ms. Figg with an expression that showed a pain no kid should know and hugged her, trying to reassure her that everything would be alright. Petunia looked at the boy for the first time and was first mesmerised by his beauty, then something clicked into her and she looked at him with disgust. Ms. Figg began explaining: “Our clan was attacked, everything was destroyed! We're all that's left of it!”

Petunia looked a little shocked, then spoke rudely to them: ”And what do you want?”

“Lily left you this.” She said handing the letter Lily had assigned her with to her. Petunia took it, ripped it open and started reading it. Her face paling.

“No, I will not take that freak inside my house!” She shouted at the elder lady.

“First of all, he's not a freak, and second of all… you're all that he has left! He just witnessed everyone he knew being exterminated and all you have to say is that you won't take him! You don't even know him! I know for a fact that if you give him a chance and get to know him, you'll love him as much as I love him!”

“I don't care!”

“You can't refuse! That's the last wish your sister made before dying! If you at least had some dignity, you wouldn't deny her last wish! The boy has nowhere to go! I promised her that I'd take him to you, deliver the letter and keep an eye on the boy, and I intend on fulfilling my role!”

At that moment a very fat man with a thick moustache driving a car parked in the driveway. He turned the car off, walked out, looked at the women and child in an unflattering way and walked to his wife. “Stay here!” She said as she grabbed her husband's wrist and dragged him inside the house, closing the door behind them.

They heard talking from behind the door. It sounded like some kind of discussion was going on. They caught some words that sounded a lot like `freak', `abnormality', `..will not let poor Dudley live with that thing'. After a long time the door opened again and a purple faced Mr. Dursley walked to out, looking them up and down. He looked at the boy, then back at the woman and asked a little harshly: “This is the boy? ”Ms. Figg squeezed the hand of the little boy that was shaking at the sight of the angry, ugly big man in front of him. She nodded. “Fine, we'll take him! Now leave!” He said, grabbing the boys arm tightly, dragging him in and slamming the door behind him. Just as he was closing the door the little boy turned to look to her, almost pleading her not to leave him with them.

She found a job and managed to buy the house next to the Dursleys, thanks to the help of Dumbledore, an old friend of the Potter clan, and kept her promise, keeping an eye on the last of the line.

Life had never been the same. He was forced to live in a cupboard, do chores and starve if he didn't finish them in time. His cousin would often beat him up with his friends, he never made friends and became very subdued. Occasionally he'd get his uncle really made and would get slapped and sent to his cupboard for days on end without food or water.

He shook his head, he shouldn't think of those things now. This was his life and he couldn't change it now. With a heavy heart he looked up when the bell rang and walked to his chemistry lab, where he would be insulted for every little thing he did wrong or for the baggy hand-me-downs he wore, they were his cousin's and looked like a tent on him. But that was not important.

He made his way to his seat at the far corner and took out his books.

AN: So sorry I didn't upload in like FIVE months! But I lost my Portkey password so I always forgot.

Savage Amazon

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