Disclaimer... these characters belong to JKR

At least his last memory of his son and wife is a good one. Harry, gleeful at the coloured smoke that James conjured with his wand, waving his chubby fists. Lily laughing, kissing James quickly before stepping into the kitchen to check the chicken roasting in the oven, (the two of them have come a long way since that first Christmas dinner). Harry smiling up at him, green eyes flashing as he gently bops James on the nose. And the sound of Lily's laugh… that noise will be will be playing in his head as he dies. Low and joyful and golden. It will make him feel like his death is worth something, knowing he's keeping that laugh alive.

When James Potter dies, his life does not flash before his eyes, because there's no time for that. All he sees is his last glimpse of his wife and son – Lily Potter's emerald green, terrified, broken eyes and Harry's matching ones, staring at him with curiosity and a bit of surprise as Lily slams the door hard and flees. He doesn't have a wand, he's utterly defenceless, but maybe his body will make Voldemort trip or something. This will be – the fourth time he's come face to face with Voldemort and he knows he won't be escaping this one.

This is what love did to him. I love you, he thinks desperately, wishing that he could hold Harry one last time, kiss Lily one last time, see his friends, one last time. I love you, I love you, IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou – oh god –

James can't help being afraid. His hands are shaking and his stomach's churning and the amount of time that it takes for the figure outside to open the door seems to last one horrible eternity, every beat of his heart numbered and running out like sand through an hour glass. Everything's blurring – he couldn't get his wand if he tried.

Let them live. Calm descends over him. If they live, if Lily and Harry make it out of this house that was their home but that's become a trap, he'll have died for a reason. And even if his death buys them one minute, thirty seconds, five seconds, one heartbeat, it will have been well spent.

He hears footsteps on the stairs, a cold high voice – and there's a flash of green. Luminous green the colour of Lily's eyes when she's angry or impossibly happy, of Harry's when he smiles. He thinks of Remus, of Sirius, of Peter, who must be dead – dead or in terrible pain – the light is so cold…

There's a high, cold laugh that seems to reach his bones.

James stands tall, back straight. He won't die on his knees.

He crumples and falls.

He's dead before he hits the ground.

He never even got to say goodbye.

There is a bang and a dull thud and Lily can see light seeping under the door like sunshine pressing round the edges of a curtain on a lazy summer morning. This light doesn't announce sunrise. This light tells her that her husband – her James, is dead. That thud was his corpse falling to the floor, sprawling inelegantly over carpets that they picked out together.

Her husband, the father of the child in her arms, is dead. She's a widow. She doesn't feel anything – despite consciously knowing it was absurd, she still thought – maybe – like his death would rip away some fundamental part of her soul, leaving her her exposed, raw to the elements.

She is cold and she knows what to do. Protect Harry. Run. Do what it takes, whatever it takes, to survive. James told her to run and she went. If it was just her, if it were only her… she would've stayed. She would've stood shoulder to shoulder with James and fought and died next to him and it would've been a mercy.

A ruthless calm falls over her; because this, this is Lily Potter's only super power. Cold, absolute determination. James is dead. She's alive. She's going to stay alive, and so is Harry.

Her feet pound the stairs. Someone's screaming, high pitched and horrified and for a terrible second she thinks it's Harry, that he's hurt before she realizes it's her.

Her wand, that thin strip of wood is downstairs, and she's shoving at the dresser, Harry in one arm as she tries to hold the door closed, tries to give her son one more minute of life, tries to give herself one more minute – if she could just think – but her brain isn't working and she's screaming and he's at the door –

"Harry, be safe" she whispered, kissing him on the top of his head before turning to place him gently in his cradle. "Mama loves you. Dada loves you"

Harry peers up at her curiously, reaching for her long hair that hangs down by her face. She has to pull away, and foiled, Harry sits down on the mattress, frowning to himself. That makes her smile, just a little bit. Lily just wants a minute more, to play with her son, to drop an absent kiss on his head, to let him know that he is loved so very, very much, but she doesn't have that time.

She spins to face the door, arms outstretched, shielding the cradle.

It flies open.

The light from the spell illuminates the windows and Lily can see the bare branches of the trees outside cracking in the cold Halloween wind. Harry's second Halloween. They were going to dress him up this year, even if they couldn't go outside. James had spent all month making a tiny Quidditch uniform and Lily closes her eyes at the memory.

A figure – tall and emaciated – enters. His cloak trails silently behind him and he spins a long wand between his skeletal fingers.

Lily hears herself begging. She's never begged in her life. Not even the last time she came up against Voldemort face to face, and she thought she was going to die. She can't breathe for the shame of it but if it saves Harry she'd fling herself to the ground and kiss his boots.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

There are hot tears on her cheeks and she hates them but she can't wipe them away – her arms are outstretched, providing what meagre protection she can with her body – her frail, breakable human body. It feels like a crucifixion.

"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now"

That voice is so cold. Ice shards are forming in her veins and she longs for James to step up behind her, to wrap her in her arms and tell her he loves her, to hold Harry's small warm body close. But she is all alone.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-"

Even as she's pleading she knows it's useless, that she'll buy her sweet small son a minute at most. The cloaked figure is raising a wand, and she descends into panic.

"This is my last warning-"

"Not Harry! Please… have mercy…have mercy… Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything-"

And she would've done anything. She would've joined the Death Eaters, she would've betrayed the Order, she would've strode into the Ministry and killed the Minister – she would've done anything to keep her son alive. Lily's about to die and she's so helpless.

All she has is blood and bone and flesh and love and that's not nearly enough. If only, if only. Lily imagines wrapping herself around her son, her protective love the only magic she has left.

"Stand aside. Stand aside girl!"

The wand rises and Lily is cringing back because she's afraid, so selfishly afraid. Did it hurt, James? she thinks desperately. I don't want it to hurt. Where will I go? Will it last long? I couldn't keep him alive, James – and I miss you already.

Lily takes one long desperate, hungry look back. Harry's clutching the bars of his crib, staring back at her with her own puzzled eyes and James's face and she sobs –

The Daily Prophet Archives – Vault 34, Filing Cabinet 7, Drawer C.

Daily Prophet Obituaries for 1981:

Greta Lovegood*: Died January 12th, 1981: "Dance, then, wherever you may be"

*Murdered by Death Eaters.

Buried in St Ottery Catchpole Church. Survived by sister Camilla, brother-in-law Ben, and brother Xenophilius.

Cuthbert, Lucy, Marlene, Benjamin and Sammie McKinnon*: Died July 3rd, 1981. "Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter"

*Murdered by Death Eaters.

Cremated. Survived by none.

Edgar, Tammy, Bliss and David Bones*: Died July 14th, 1981. "Gone too soon"

*Murdered by Death Eaters.

Buried in Mould-On-The-Wold. Survived by sister Amelia and brother Percy.

Benjy Fenwick*: Died July 29th, 1981. "Once met, never forgotten"

*Murdered by Death Eaters.

Remains unrecovered. Survived by wife Kalia.

Fabian and Gideon Prewett*: Died August 18th, 1981. "Do not go gentle into that good night, rage, rage against the dying of the light"

*Murdered by Death Eaters.

Buried in Godric's Hollow churchyard. Survived by sister Molly and mother Kara.

Dorcas Meadowes*: Died August 28th, 1981. "The song is ended but the melody lingers on"

*Murdered by You-Know-Who.

Buried in Hogsmeade. Survived by brother Bertie.

Mary, Liam and Sammie Vale*: Died September 6th, 1981. "Always loving, always loved"

*Murdered by Death Eaters.

Buried in Hopworthy churchyard. Survived by none.

Caradoc Dearborn*: Died September 23nd, 1981. "Fought well"

*Murdered by Death Eaters.

Remains unrecovered. Survived by wife Lark and daughter Penthe.

Anna Rogers*: Died October 5th, 1981. "I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet"

*Cause of death unknown.

Buried in Upper Flagley. Survived by mother Ellen and father George.

Lily and James Potter*: Died October 31st, 1981. "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death"

*Murdered by You-Know-Who.

Buried in Godric's Hollow churchyard. Survived by son Harry and sister Petunia.

Peter Pettigrew*: Died November 2nd, 1981. "A true and loyal friend"

*Murdered by Sirius Black.

Remains unrecovered. Survived by mother Daisy.

YOU-KNOW-WHO DEFEATED BY BOY-WHO-LIVES

The greatest threat the wizarding world has ever faced was destroyed last night by a mere child – Harry Potter, the six month old son of Lily and James Potter somehow defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in a mysterious battle that left his parents dead. Godric's Hollow, the site of the Potters' home and You-Know-Who's last murders is currently swarming with Aurors, but we've gained exclusive knowledge from an anonymous source that the cottage that housed the Potters has been destroyed completely, possibly the work of a slew of powerful curses and Dark Magic.

This past year has been full of loss for many wizarding families as You-Know-Who and his followers stepped up their rebellion and cemented their control – committing some of the most brutal murders yet against those who fought against him. But now it's over.

Who is this unlikely child saviour? It's been an emotional day and night for many witches and wizards who've lived in fear for years under You-Know-Who's reign of terror, and families across the country are coming together to celebrate this new beginning and mourn those lost forever. Despite You-Know-Who's defeat, we must remember that Harry Potter has lost two parents tonight, even though we've gained our world back. We owe him our lives and freedom, and all over the world, the wizarding community is celebrating this event, and raising glasses to Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.

THE BEGINNING

A.N. Thank you.