Dedications: These are the last, I promise!
Stephen King: For helping me narrow my usage of adverbs.
My readers: For reading, of course! What would the point of this story be without you guys?
Chapter 8: Bereavement of the Potters
A lot of new things happened during the months that followed the early weeks of Lily and Harry's stay at Maple Oak. Harry learned to walk alone and unsupported, which was both a good and bad thing. It was good because it meant that his legs had gotten stronger and he was more independent, but this independence had also given him more opportunities for trouble.
And trouble was why his newfound skill was ambiguous. He was always exploring the house and playing with things he shouldn't. So far two lamps and a set of dishes had been broken, both because he pulled on tablecloths, an act he quickly realized his mother would not put up with; he spent copious amounts of time in his crib as punishment.
His speech was improving as well. In just three months he had gone from words like "cup", "Ames", and "ma" to "I have juice please?" and "Daddy!" and "Mommy!" Much of his improvement came from the time Lily spent with him. They always talked.
Not too long after Harry and Lily's arrival, James went back to work. The best part about that, Lily always told him, was that he didn't work often. He was rarely called in.
In mid-September came the biggest change to the Potter household: Lily went into labor. After a few stressful hours of hot baths, Kegal exercises, and breathing technique practice, James got both Harry and Lily into the car and sped off toward the center of London to the hospital. A few more hours later--of screaming and crying on Lily's part--came the birth of a baby girl, Alexa Jane. The last name came after the test.
As soon as she was out and clean, the doctor took her to another part of the hospital for a paternity test. James's blood had been taken earlier; they didn't need John's. If Alexa's and James's didn't match, that was all the evidence they needed.
During the time the baby was gone, James and Harry stayed close to Lily, keeping her company on the stiff hospital bed. Harry stayed back behind his father, seeming nervous around Lily after hearing her screaming from his place in the hallway. One of the nurses had watched him while Lily was delivering. James had no luck trying to move him either; Harry yelled when he tried.
"Harry," said Lily, arms extended, "come here, baby. Mommy's fine. I won't yell anymore, I promise."
"No!" He peeked out from behind James. "Mommy scare me!"
Lily sighed. Then an idea came to mind. "All right, Harry. You don't have to hug me. I'll just hug the new baby instead."
Harry's eyes narrowed and he emerged fully. "No! My mommy! No new baby!" He crawled over to her and plopped down on her stomach. Lily `oof'ed. James laughed.
"No baby," Harry repeated. Lily rubbed his back, exchanging a worried look with James.
"Harry, you're going to have to get used to the idea. Because there is a new baby." He lifted his head up and stared at her, his tiny hands pushing into her stomach. He looked both angry and sad. James said nothing.
"No!" His eyes watered. "My mommy! No leave me!" Lily hugged the sniffling child.
"I'm not going to leave you, sweetheart," she said, running her fingers through his silky hair. "You're going to stay with mommy and daddy at home. The baby's going to live with us."
"My room?" He asked, sniffling. He wiped his eyes. Lily and James laughed at his worried expression.
"She will someday," said Lily. "But first she's staying in our room. She's too little to live with you right now."
He looked relieved. It was so unusual for a toddler to be both so intelligent and so expressive. All three of them turned to look at the door. The doctor was back with the results. Lily noticed that James's hands were trembling and he avoided all eye contact with the doctor.
He set the folded piece of paper down on the bed next to Lily and muttered, "I'll leave you all alone."
His receding footsteps told them that he had left, and Lily picked up the paper. But rather than opening it right away, she just sat there holding it out. She looked from James to Harry to the paper and back again. Her hands were trembling too.
"Well," urged James, "get on with it." She nodded, but before she opened it she looked at Harry. He wasn't moving; he seemed to have grasped the seriousness of the situation. How would he feel if he knew that his baby sister was only his half sister? Lily had never wanted anything more in her life. She had to be James's. It was what all of them wanted.
"I can't do it," said Lily. She held the paper at arm's length, treating it as if it were some sort of smelly animal. Harry, who had become impatient, snatched the paper and ripped it right down the middle.
"Gone," he announced as he tossed the papers aside. Lily's eyes went wide and James just stared at his son in awe. Harry giggled and rolled backward over the papers.
Lily gasped. "Harry! Don't mess those up!" James picked him up and set him in his lap. Lily grabbed both halves of the paper and looked them over, her eyes falling on the bottom half. She closed her eyes, smiling, and let out a relieved sigh.
"She's yours."
- - -
Not too long after Lily spoke those two, wonderful words, baby Alexa was brought back in by the nurse to visit with her family. For the most part, Harry was well behaved around her. He didn't hit, play rough, or even go too close to her. Lily had to encourage him to give her a kiss on the forehead and hold her hand. He seemed less afraid of her by bedtime.
A month passed and many more changes occurred in the Potter household. Alexa moved from her parents' room to Harry's within three weeks and the two became the best of friends. Harry always wanted to be near Alexa; he was her protector. They had long conversations in gibberish when they were left in their playpen together. Harry also seemed to be teaching Alexa. Either that, or she was a very good observer, because she progressed much quicker than Harry had at her age. She could wave goodbye, smile, and roll over, with encouragement from her mother.
As well as being constantly accompanied by Harry, Alexa was always near James, who shared Harry's protectiveness. He spent the majority of his time with his children and wife, overjoyed that all those months of worrying had been for naught.
Lily's switch from ex-wife to wife again was another of the changes. They had a second wedding, this one less formal. The JoP officiated the ceremony in the town hall. The whole thing had lasted less than an hour, but it was memorable nonetheless. Harry stayed with his grandmother while James took Lily--who had been pregnant at the time--out for dinner. Once Harry was in bed that night, his parents got a little friendly, to say the least.
As for John, he went on with life as usual. Working, paying bills, and bringing the occasional girlfriend home. None of them lasted long. His workaholic tendencies drove most away within a couple weeks. To this day he remains the same way, unmarried and work obsessed.
In the middle of October, a change occurred in the Potter household for the worst. Dumbledore dropped by one night during a visit of Sirius's with bad news: Voldemort was after Harry. A prophecy had been made by Sybil Trelawney telling of a boy born in late July to parents who had thrice defied the Dark Lord. He would be the only one with the power to vanquish him. Voldemort didn't like the sound of that.
"He's just a baby!" Lily had said with fearful eyes, "how could a baby destroy him?"
Now it was Halloween night and instead of taking their children out to trick or treat, the Potters were stuck indoors, their only protection a spell called the Fidelius Charm. The charm was designed to hide the house from view to all but the secret-keeper and those who knew the exact location. They had chosen Peter Pettigrew to be their secret-keeper after deciding that their original choice, Sirius, was much too obvious.
(11:03 p.m. 1457 Maple Oak Lane. Godric's Hollow.)
"This is the worst Halloween I've ever had," said Lily as she took the empty seat on the couch beside James. "I can't take my children trick or treating, and I don't feel safe in my own house." He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"We'll be fine," said James, "We can trust Peter. You're worrying for nothing."
Lily remained tense. She glanced over at Harry and Alexa in their playpen and chewed nervously on her bottom lip.
"Stop that," implored James. "Let's just try to relax."
"I..." she trailed off. "I..."
"You..?"
"I just...I had this - this dream last night," she said.
He raised his eyebrows. "A dream?" he said. "What kind of dream?"
"It was about a bat. A black bat. It flew all around the forest and smashed into a tree. It died. Then after it, two white bats showed up; they died too." Lily gave him a worried look, but James laughed.
"What do bats have to do with anything?"
"Did you not pay attention at all in Divination?" she snapped. James grinned at her. He, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had spent the majority of their time in Divination passing notes and making jokes about Professor Pomely's gigantic ears. Lily narrowed her eyes at him. "Having dreams about bats is a death omen. White bats represent family members and black bats represent you!"
James gave her a dubious look. "Do you honestly believe anything that old codger taught us? It's a load of crap, Lily. Just like Tarot. Calm down, okay? I'll rub your back and you can go to sleep in my lap."
Lily sighed; there was no sense in arguing with him. It would just make both of them angry, and being angry was the last thing either of them needed right now. She lay down in his lap and made herself comfortable. After a few minutes of his expertly competent hands on her back, she dozed off.
Getting to sleep when you're anxious can be very hard to do, and when one has succeeded at it, being awoken--whether gently or not--is often an unpleasant experience. Lily received the short straw in this case. She was shaken roughly by the shoulders, and the shock of being awoken in such a way made her tumble off of James's lap and over the side of the couch. She hit the floor with a loud thump.
"Dammit, James!" she yelled. "That was my elbow! What the hell is wrong with you?"
She looked up at him and followed his gaze. The panel on the front door glowed bright green. Someone was outside. Lily's heart began to beat faster. Her palms moistened and her hands began to shake.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off--" She was up and at the playpen in a moment. She gathered Harry into her arms.
"What about Alexa?"
"I'll take care of her. Go!" Tears sliding down her cheeks, she gave her husband what would be their last kiss and hurried upstairs with her son. It was harder than it sounds. With every step she took he wobbled in her arms.
"No run!" he whined. Lily shushed him and ran to the nursery. She sat him in her lap and wrapped her robes around him, except for his head. It wasn't much of a hiding place, but it comforted Lily. A little.
Downstairs, the front door flew off and cracked in two. The glass pane fell from the mahogany frame and shattered on the floor. Lord Voldemort crunched the pieces and laughed.
"How did you find us?" asked James hoarsely. He stood in front of the playpen, holding his wand out in front of him like a skewer.
Voldemort grinned. "It seems that your friend Peter isn't as loyal as you thought. Isn't that right?" He moved aside so a smaller figure could be seen in the doorway. Peter, trembling with fear, looked over at James.
"You traitor," he spat. Peter flinched.
"I--I didn't want to, James, I--" Voldemort held out a hand to silence him. He stepped further into the house and peered around the living room.
"Where's your son?" He sounded more curious than demanding.
"He's not here."
"Liar. Move aside!"
James backed up, but otherwise stayed put. He glanced over his shoulder at his daughter. She was sleeping, completely unaware of the horrors around her. James was going to anything in his power to protect her, to protect his whole family.
"Avada Kedavra!" he bellowed. A jet of green light shot from the end of his wand. Voldemort conjured a shield from thin air and it bounced off. The beam hit the mirror on the wall behind them and landed right inside of the playpen.
James was afraid to look. It had hit Alexa. It had killed his daughter, his beautiful baby girl. A rage like he had never known before overtook him and he raised his wand high into the air.
But this time, Voldemort was ready for it. Before James could open his mouth, he was sprawled on the ground. Dead.
Voldemort peered into the playpen. "That wasn't him, Wormtail. Take care of the body!"
Peter, who had been covering his face with his hands and trembling off in the corner, slid his hands down to his pants pocket and withdrew his wand. Voldemort started up the stairs as Peter went to the playpen to destroy the evidence.
In Harry's room, Lily could hear his approaching footsteps and began to tremble. Her heart beat faster than it ever had and she could feel beads of perspiration forming on her forehead, not just from the extra heat her robe provided. Harry turned to face her with wide eyes.
"Mommy?"
"Shh!"
Lily felt faint as the loud, clunking footsteps grew closer and closer. She was so overcome with anxiety that she could barely see straight and had trouble sitting upright. She nearly did faint, however, when his cold, yet grinning, face appeared in the doorway. She had hoped, after her and James's previous encounters with this villain, never to see his face again.
Instead of yelling or screaming or running or even moving as Voldemort drew closer to the little corner she and Harry were huddled up in, Lily sat frozen in place, except for her eyes, which followed him, wide with fear.
"Get up," he snarled, grin fading. "And give me the baby."
Harry buried himself in his mother's robes, nuzzling his head into her shoulder. "No!" he yelled, and the cloth muffled it some. "I'm not a baby!"
Voldemort's serious expression flickered and the corners of his mouth twitched slightly. "He sounds so determined and stubborn. Just like his father." Lily flushed with anger. Voldemort crouched down to Harry's line of sight and said, in a sickly sweet tone, "Harry's the man of the house now, isn't he? But only for a few minutes."
Voldemort stood back up and looked down at Lily, satisfied with her expression of mixed horror and grief. Her gaze was forward and blank, and her breathing came in short, heavy thrusts. The only thing she could manage to think, manage to comprehend, was one short sentence she repeated over and over in her mind.
`I'm a widow.'
Voldemort was growing impatient. "Get up, now."
Lily refused to move. She was not going to lose her son as well. Voldemort's eyes narrowed into thin, snakelike slits.
"I said get up. NOW!" As he yelled the last word, he grabbed Lily by the scruff of her robes and threw both her and Harry to the ground. It was the second time she'd slammed into the ground that night. Fear welled up inside her. Her only other feeling was one in her head; a large slice ran from her hairline to the top of her right eyebrow, and if she were still alive today, it would have left one hell of a scar. Luckily, she had stopped herself before she'd come down on Harry and squashed him. He was still tangled up in her robes.
With amazing agility, she slid him, by the back of his shirt, over near the toy box and stood in front of him as a shield.
"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"
Lily backed up a step and flared her robe out some to hide Harry from view. "Not Harry!" she pleaded, close to tears, "Not Harry! Please--I'll do anything--" And she would have. She was desperate to save her son from the man she and James had so narrowly escaped three times before.
"Stand aside, you silly girl...stand aside, now..." He gestured with a flick of his wand.
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead--" He cut her off by shoving her aside and she tripped over her own feet, cascading into the toy box. Harry screamed and Lily reached forward to snatch him just as Voldemort lifted him from the ground.
She clutched him tightly to her chest, and he didn't seem to mind, because he much preferred his mother's tight hold to the scary grin of a stranger. Voldemort was thoroughly angered now, and he grabbed the toddler by the scruff of his shirt and yanked. Lily barely held him in place.
"STOP!" Harry wailed in terror. He reached down for Harry again, successfully this time, because his sudden movement surprised Lily and she regained her senses too late.
"MOMMY!" Harry's chubby cheeks were red as a fire engine and she could see the veins along his neck.
"Not Harry! Please...have mercy...have mercy..." she sobbed.
Lily was too distraught even to try and rescue her son and she balled herself up, sobbing. She was so loud and her breaths were so heavy and frequent that she was nearly choking herself. Voldemort wanted silence. He wanted his vanquishing of the powerful child to be momentous, and Lily's loud wailing was ruining the moment. He raised his wand to her and muttered two words that had already claimed so many wizards' lives.
In a flash of green light, she hit the floor, the blood from her forehead smearing upon the hard wood.
He then raised his wand to Harry, who hadn't gone any quieter than his mother had been, and placed it neatly to his forehead; he thought it would be ironic for the child and his mother to have identical scars.
"Avada..."
The next moment, and many after that, was a blur to Lord Voldemort. The moment, he uttered the final word to the incantation. Harry fell, full force and bawling, on top of his mother's dead body. All Voldemort felt was searing pain. He thought his limbs were being ripped from his torso and his hair was being pulled up by the roots. Everywhere was pain. Then finally, after what seemed an eternity, it all ended as abruptly as it had started and he felt like he was floating. The wind from the open window carried him across the room and he took his only way out. He wanted nothing more to do with the cottage on Maple Oak. In seconds, he was gone.
And so was the chubby man called Peter Pettigrew after sensing the disturbance. He ran for his life. The Aurors would soon arrive and he couldn't be found near the scene of the crime.
The only one remaining alive in the house was Harry, who wailed at the pain in his forehead and at his mother's limp form. He didn't understand that she would never come back, never hold him, never comfort him again, but he cried anyway, because she wasn't there to do it now, when he needed it.
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