A/N: This is my first-ever attempt at Harry Potter fanfiction…so please be sort of nice to me. =) This chapter is fairly short, but I promise, they'll get longer. I tried to be true to what JKR gave us but add some of my own stuff as well. Hope I pulled it off. (And no, I don't know when my other fics are getting updates yet.)

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bro's. Don't sue.

Monday, 31 October, 1981

Things were perfect in the Potters' quiet household, located in the sleepy little village Godric's Hollow. Or rather, as perfect as life could be when you were hiding from the most powerful Dark wizard in history. Lord Voldemort's power was second only to Albus Dumbledore's; but these days even Dumbledore's resistance organization, the Order of the Phoenix, barely had a good leg to stand on anymore. Members were being murdered far more quickly than they could be recruited. Death Eaters seemed to vastly outnumber them. Everyone in the Order was holding their breath, particularly those of them who, like the Potters, had small children. Raising a family in such a hostile climate was risky at best, but Lily Potter was a headstrong, vibrant sort of girl. She refused to put her life on hold for Voldemort, though she was only twenty-one. Her baby boy was the light of her life, perfect in every way.

Lily never thought she could love anything or anyone as much as she adored her son. Then again, it was just one surprise among many: she never thought she'd end up married to James Potter, either. He had been the bane of her life at Hogwarts. Four years out of school, however, had utterly transformed him. He'd gone from a conceited troublemaker and Quidditch star to a courageous, loving husband and father. Now, Lily was convinced that there was nothing James would not do for her or Harry.

In the end, falling in love with James—and accepting his proposal—had been incredibly easy.

But through all that, in spite of all their happiness, the risk still remained, looming over their heads collectively until finally settling on the Potters' young shoulders when they'd found out Voldemort was after them in particular—and their son. It horrified Lily to think that someone—no matter how evil—would intentionally target a one-year-old child and seek him out, intent on stealing his young life away. It dismayed and infuriated her at the same time, and she made a promise that she would keep her Harry safe. She had to. For how could she live if Harry fell into Voldemort's clutches? What would her life be worth?

Not everything had changed. She and James celebrated Harry's first birthday at the end of July quietly; Sirius brought his godson a toy broomstick that exasperated Lily and thrilled the birthday boy.

The six of them sat in the Potters' small living room, crowded onto the sofa. A pile of colored paper lay scattered on the floor. Their cat stalked, unnoticed, towards one of the ribbons, batting at it curiously with a paw. Everyone's attention was fixed on little Harry. The little boy sitting on Lily's lap was already a miniature of James with the exception of his eyes, which widened with delight when his "Uncle" Sirius passed him a long package. He eagerly tore into it, though Lily had to help him open the box itself, and one of his chubby hands curled around the handle of a toy broomstick, much smaller than a real one, but with quite accurate details nevertheless.

"What do you say, Harry?" Lily prompted him, kissing the top of his head. She already knew this was going to be a headache, but Harry was grinning as though there was no better present in the world.

"Thanks, Uwncle Siwius," the child said obediently; his green eyes were fixed on the new toy.

James chuckled. "Never too soon to start learning the family business."

Lily groaned softly, which only made the rest of them laugh all the harder. She had nothing against Quidditch—she just didn't want her little boy to grow up with as inflated an ego as his father. Maybe that was impossible, given how much they coddled him…but it was so hard not to love Harry, especially since every moment with him might be their last.

She didn't want to think like that on his birthday, but it was true.

All they could do was believe that Harry was going to grow up and be a Quidditch star without Voldemort threatening his safety and happiness. Someday—someday soon—they would be able to defeat him…and they would somehow keep Harry out of harm's way. Voldemort wasn't going to touch him.

"I'm sure he'll do plenty of damage with it," Lily finally conceded, trying to sound flippant and untroubled…but she wrapped her arms more tightly around Harry all the same.

Dumbledore had convinced them, however, to truly go into "hiding" at last. He had offered to be their Secret-Keeper himself, but James had turned him down—a bit proudly, to Lily's thinking—saying they would use Sirius instead. Neither he nor Lily trusted anyone more implicitly than him. Yet only a few days ago, it had been Sirius who had suggested they change their minds, fearful that he would seem the obvious choice.

So finally, the Potters entrusted their hiding place with Peter Pettigrew, an unassuming young man and another of James' old school friends. Though they had been reluctant to follow Sirius' advice, Lily was beginning to see why he had suggested the switch. Voldemort and his followers wouldn't dream of suspecting poor Peter, who was talentless and very nearly friendless. And now there was little more they could do. Over the past week, life had settled into a quiet routine. It was normal…almost normal.

Though she was nearly going mad from being confined to their home, even for a short time, Lily was comforted by telling herself that it was for Harry's safety. She and James kept in touch with Dumbledore and a few, select members of the Order, but to the rest of the wizarding world, they may as well no longer have existed. So over the course of a week, monotony had become their way of life, but Lily took that as a good sign. Every day that passed in peace allowed them to relax by perhaps a fraction of an inch, to inhale that much deeper.

That was the attitude with which Lily and James celebrated Halloween. Dumbledore had dropped by the day before and delivered a modest-sized pumpkin, which Lily had spent almost an hour carving for their son. The result was a somewhat lopsided but nevertheless cheerful-looking jack-o-lantern wearing a silly grin.

"What do you think, hmm? Is he the perfect pumpkin?" she asked, bending down to lift Harry into her arms. He giggled and clapped, pointing gleefully at the face. Lily thought that it was a good thing he was already in his pajamas. Bits of the inside of the pumpkin clung to her black sweater, though thankfully none was in her hair, which she had pulled up to give Harry his bath earlier.

"Not perfect quite yet…"

The sound of James' voice pulled her out of her thoughts and she looked around at her grinning husband. He came downstairs and kissed Lily's cheek. Then, suddenly, the jack-o-lantern's jolly face had been disfigured by a ghastly scowl. He was obviously hoping to get a laugh out of Harry, but instead the little boy whimpered, hiding his face in his mother's shoulder. Lily frowned at him. Lily frowned at him. "James…."

James smiled sheepishly by way of an apology and restored Lily's handiwork with a flick of his wand, which he stuck into his back pocket. Then he reached out and scooped the baby into his arms. "No hard feelings, right?" he asked, meeting Harry's eyes with a solemn. Harry nodded, matching his father's gravity—but then James kissed his little face and began tickling him, which was met with wild and overjoyed laughter from Harry.

"I love you, son," he promised Harry seriously. Harry beamed at him happily.

Watching the two of them together, Lily thought she might cry. How could anyone, even Voldemort, want to harm something as precious as her baby boy? How could he bring anyone anything but joy? She loved him so much that sometimes she wondered if she could bear the intensity of it every day for the rest of her life. She loved both of them that much. After all, without James, there would be no Harry.

He tossed little Harry into the air—Lily held her breath—and caught him deftly again, earning another round of breathless laughter. The two of them collapsed onto the sofa, James' glasses askew. "This is why your mummy loves me," he informed him smartly.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Yes, he's quite charming," she allowed and leaned over the back of the sofa and plucking James' wand out of his pocket before it snapped. James leaned up and kissed her, snatching his wand away from her in the process. She pulled her face away and smacked the top of his head playfully.

"James Potter, you are going to turn your son into just as much of a troublemaker as you were, and I'll never forgive you," she laughed. "Never!"

"I be a twoublemaker like Daddy," Harry repeated proudly. Chestnut eyes sparkling with mischief, he mussed up his son's hair affectionately; it was already as black and nearly untidy as his own. The little boy yawned widely. He was clearly making a stalwart effort to stay awake, but Lily saw that he was tired.

She came around in front of the sofa this time. "I think it's almost someone's bedtime."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but James hoisted him into his arms, getting up with a playful sort of groan. "Getting bigger every day, you are…" He leaned over Harry and pecked Lily on the cheek. "I'll put him to bed tonight."

As James carried Harry upstairs, Lily sank down onto the sofa, exhausted but nevertheless quite content. Five years ago, she would never have dreamed that she might agree to go out with James Potter, much less marry him. But then he had shown up at Hogwarts with a gleaming Head Boy badge—much to her dismay—and they had begun going on patrol together. She had slowly come round as she saw the more responsible side of him. She had learned to love James, come to appreciate Quidditch, and learned to laugh along with Sirius and Remus and Peter, too, though it became obvious that their true troublemaking days were over.

Then, almost as soon as they had graduated, life had become much more serious and dangerous, and Lily had been unspeakably grateful for having James to love, one of the few lights in their suddenly dark world. He had asked her to marry him that Christmas.

She had said yes, of course.

And…well, the rest was history.

And she wouldn't have changed a moment of it, even if Voldemort was now pursuing her small family because her Harry was supposedly to be his downfall.

"What are you thinking about, beautiful girl?" James asked from behind her.

"About you, of course," she replied, turning a little and smiling up at him. Sirius—and even Remus—were probably handsomer than James. Actually, lots of boys she had known at Hogwarts were. But James' confidence (once it had been arrogance) and his sweetness were more than enough to make up for whatever he lacked in looks.

He smirked, coming around to her side of the sofa and pulling her into a suffocating hug. "Oh really?"

"I'm sure you of all—"

The front door bust open. James and Lily shared a terrified look for a moment—for less—for a heartbeat. Then he pushed her away forcefully. He reached for his wand as Lily, instinctively, moved towards the stairwell.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him!" James yelled suddenly, though they were barely a few yards apart. She froze on the spot, her heart pounding furiously. No. This couldn't be happening. Not now, so soon after they thought they were safe. How could Peter…? "Go!" he prompted, his eyes wide behind his square frames, looking at her as though she was mad not to be running already. "Run! I'll hold him off!"

Lily didn't need telling a third time. She ran, taking the stairs two at a time. A wild survival instinct guided her feet as she fled to Harry's nursery. The door was still open. She stopped in front of his cot, reaching into it to pick him up. His tiny fingers curled around her sweater. Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs and she wheeled around to see James blocking the doorway. And then—almost silently—Voldemort appeared, hideously familiar and utterly terrifying. Lily felt as though the air was made of lead. Each slow, shuddering breath she took required extreme effort.

James squared his shoulders, stood his ground. "Kill me," he pleaded in a low, hollow voice, "kill me and leave my wife and my son alone. Let them live."

Horror coursed through her very blood. "No, James. No," Lily murmured. It was almost a prayer.

"Get out of the way. Save yourself…save the girl," Voldemort hissed, his eyes narrowing, if that was even possible.

"No." James shook his head fiercely. "Our boy is no threat to you—he's only a child!"

But Voldemort was not willing to waste any more time arguing. He seemed to realize that the only way he could move James to reach his object—Harry—was to kill him. He raised his wand—

Lily closed her eyes against the horrible green flash. "James!" she half-screamed his name—it was the only reason she didn't hear the sickening sound of James' lifeless body falling against the floor. Harry was whimpering pitifully now. Only dry sob escaped Lily's lips as Voldemort advanced into the room.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" She clung to her little boy desperately for a moment before she began to back away, placing him with shaking hands in his crib. "Take me instead. My life for Harry's."

Voldemort narrowed his snake-like eyes then and raised his wand. "Stand aside, you silly girl!" He hissed the words at her coldly. "Stand aside now."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead. Have mercy…have mercy!" Lily shrieked – but Voldemort had had enough. He shoved her away from her son with incredible force, knocking her to the floor. Her head struck the wall. Then he began to advance on Harry. He was bawling now, obviously terrified by Lily's screams. Though her head was throbbing, she crawled towards the crib and attempted to push herself up in a last-ditch effort to put a physical barrier between herself and her baby. "Not Harry!" she whispered again.

Voldemort must have heard, for he glanced towards her again, then kicked her ruthlessly out of the way. He pointed the wand straight at Harry…said those horrible words—"No!" Lily breathed—a flash of blinding green light…and then—

Darkness.