WC: 1,620

Written for:

- QLFC Round 8: Dystopian!AU: How and when did Voldemort 'win' or rise to power?

i
Desolation

The sky is ablaze with amber, and the air is thick with smoke. Once upon a time, she used to brush out her own blazing, amber hair proudly, and the air was crystal clear.

"Hickory, dickory, dock," she murmurs, dragging a sharp dagger through the dust and ashes on the floor, the floor which used to be a part of her living room. She draws a circle, a clock.

How did it come to this? She had been reading fairy tales since she was able to understand words, and the bad guys never won. The good ones came through all the trials and tribulations they were forced to suffer and finally emerged on top.

Perhaps she had put too much faith in fairy stories.

"Mankind is on the clock." Her voice was gravelly and hoarse from hours of crying and screaming. "I greatly fear… the end is near." Her song rose an octave, and she felt the unmistakable prickle of tears once again in her eyes. "Hickory, dickory, dock."

ii
Misty Eye

A shower of green and red sparks illuminated the dark, velvet sky, and a series of shrill cackles and cruel laughs echoed through the crowd of hooded figures that stood below the series of wizard-made fireworks. They were quickly silenced, however, when a crimson-eyed man strode to the middle of the group, forcing the others to circle around him.

"I have succeeded," he drawled in a slimy, snake-like voice. "The Chosen One is no more!"

His voice was drowned by the floor-quaking cheers that erupted around him, and his grey-skinned face was suddenly ignited with colour as another series of sparks launched into the sky.

oOo

Ugly, hacking tears wrecked Lily's face and throat as she sobbed out her frustration, her desperation, her resentment. Her fists and forehead pounded the carpet as she bounced her head off the floor repeatedly, desperately trying to achieve a soothing, mind-numbing blackness. She couldn't bear to be alive anymore. There was nothing left.

How could she have allowed herself to relax? She should have known better; she should have been more on her toes. Ever since she and James had moved to the remote Godric's Hollow and had entrusted Peter as their Secret Keeper, they had become too relaxed. They weren't expecting trouble, not with the amount of protection that surrounded them.

They were stupid.

James' cologne burned her nostrils as they rolled around on the sofa, eagerly stealing kisses between gulps of breath. It had been so long since they had been alone that they were desperate for just the tiniest bit of intimacy. For such a long time, either Sirius, Remus, or Peter were around, if not other members of the Order. And if they were home alone, they were usually watching Harry around the clock.

But tonight, Harry had gone to bed surprisingly early, and it seemed like everyone else was too busy to watch over the Potter family. So, James and Lily had been granted some much needed alone time.

Just as Lily was trailing her hands down the front of her husband's chest, the unmistakable sound of glass shattering pierced the air.

iii
Fire and Smoke

The sound of footsteps just outside, and Lily cried out, trying to sound threatening. Instead, her voice came out like a pitiful shriek. She no longer had her wand, but she could defend herself with her fists if she had to. "Who's there?"

"Lily?" A cloaked, dust-covered figure emerged through the rubble where the door and the hallway used to be. He shook himself off and lit the tip of his wand, instantly casting a yellow glow on his dirty face.

It was Sirius.

Lily couldn't contain her anger. In a sudden gust of rage, she hurled herself at Sirius, pummelling his chest with her fists. Tears streamed down her face as she attacked him, and her throat gargled as she tried to scream obscenities at him. "How could you?!" she wailed, aiming a punch at his cheek. He dodged her and grabbed her fist. "How could you do this to me? To us? To Harry?"

"Lily!" Sirius bellowed, grabbing her other arm. Instantly weakened, Lily allowed herself to be propelled back towards the middle of the remains of the living room, where a small section of the couch cushion remained. He lowered her down onto the cushion gently, and backed up before she could lunge at him again. "What happened?"

Her eyes flashed angrily. "You have some nerve," she hissed, "turning up here after everything you've done..."

"I know what you think," Sirius started, taking a breath. "But I swear to you that it wasn't me who killed those Muggles."

"Then who was it?" spat Lily. "Because there are ten dead people out there, as well as our best friend—"

"—it was him," Sirius insisted, and Lily could tell by the determined look in his eye that he was telling the truth. "Peter betrayed us."

oOo

Lily darted up the stairs to Harry's bedroom, where the source of the noise came from. James was quick on her tail. "Lily, wait!" he shouted, trying to catch up with her.

"You should listen to your husband, Lily Potter," a cold voice hissed. Lily froze at the top of the stairs as a hooded figure slipped out of Harry's bedroom. He pulled back his hood, exposing his grey-faced complexion and snake-like, crimson eyes. He was holding his wand at arm's length, and there was an odd smirk on his deranged features. "Avada..."

"Lily, move!" James screamed, and Lily was suddenly bowled out of the way as James threw himself into her side and knocked her to the ground.

"No!" Lily cried.

"...Kedavra!" Voldemort's curse landed squarely in the centre of James' chest, briefly illuminating his round glasses with a bright, green light. And then, there was no light.

James' body slumped forwards and hit the ground. He was facing Lily, but his face was empty. There was no one left in the hollow shell.

"Stupid boy," Voldemort muttered, clucking his tongue. "And a Pureblood, too, no less. Such a waste."

oOo

"I'm so sorry, Lily," Sirius whispered, his dark eyes sparkling with tears. "I should have gotten here sooner. No—I shouldn't have allowed Peter to be your Secret Keeper. It was always going to be me. What a stupid, stupid mistake."

"It's not your fault," murmured Lily. "We were all fooled by Peter."

iv
Hollowed Souls

"I always admired you, Lily Potter, even though you are a Mudblood," Voldemort's voice seemed so far away. Lily was lying on the floor on her side, her body wracking with silent sobs. Behind Voldemort, she could see into Harry's bedroom.

The limp body of her son lay in his cot. If she tried hard enough, she could perhaps pretend that he was still asleep.

But Voldemort wouldn't stop talking.

"How could you," she whispered. "How could you do that… to a child… to a baby!"

"He was my undoing," Voldemort hissed. "He was not allowed to live. Not while I am alive."

"Then you should have died."

"Talent like yours should not be wasted," Voldemort went on, ignoring her previous comment. "I will give you the opportunity to join me, Lily Potter. Join me, and I can make your pain go away. Join me, and I can bring..." Voldemort crouched down beside James' dead body. "...dear James Potter back from the dead."

"Dead is dead, dead is gone," whispered Lily. "There is no bringing back the dead. I will never join you."

"You have one hour."

oOo

"What are you going to do?" Sirius asked Lily softly, taking her hand. "You should come with me—back to the Lupin's house. You'll be safe there."

Lily snatched her hand back. "No," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I'm not ready yet. I need to stay… with James and Harry."

"We can bring their bodies back, Lily," he replied gingerly.

"Please, Sirius," she whispered, not making eye contact with her friend. "Just let me be alone for a little while."

After a long pause, Sirius nodded and climbed to his feet. "I'll come back in a little while." When Lily didn't reply, Sirius just nodded, and slipped out of the remains of the Potter's house.

v
Blood on the Breeze

"Hickory, dickory, dock," she murmurs, over and over again, drawing and redrawing the clock in the dirt, as though each clock she draws might be a chance at a return in time, perhaps a new life.

She feels him before she sees him. The killer of her family arrives in Godric's Hollow like an icy wave, gushing over every living thing that remains and freezing it to the spot. Lily is no exception. "Hickory, dickory, dock."

"Have you considered my offer?" his voice is more gas than ice, but just as cold.

"Mm-hmm."

"And what say you, Lily Potter?"

She turns, looking up at him with her green eyes—eyes that were once brimming with life. There is nothing within her anymore. He has taken it all.

"You were concerned of wasting my talent," she whispers, and Voldemort nods, a smirk slowly spreading on his face. "But I would rather it be wasted than in hands like yours."

In a sudden movement, Lily slashes her own throat with the dagger she had been clutching. A gash splits in across the expanse of her creamy skin immediately, and the dark red substance within spurts out, splashing across Voldemort's face.

He stands still and impassive as Lily's body crumples to the floor, a smile plastered upon her motionless face.

Voldemort might have won, but if Lily got to spend eternity with her loved ones, then she was the real winner.

A.N: The 'hickory dickory dock' poem was an apocalyptic rewrite by Alicia VanNoy Call.