Rash Decisions

It was not as if the broom really needed tweaking. It was merely a toy, a working replica of larger models with a charm only meant to keep it in the air for so long. Lily Potter was proud that her one-year-old son, Harry, had mastered it so well in such a short time. However, she wasn't sure she liked the idea of her husband tinkering with it to make it go faster. "He's sure to fall, James," she warned him over her sink full of dishes as she washed while James Potter worked spells over the toy broom at the kitchen table. Harry was asleep in the nursery, finally. It had taken some convincing for him to let go of the broom long enough to lie down.

"I don't think so, Lily darling," James responded lightly. His brow was set in concentration with his dark hair standing on end, giving him a frazzled appearance. "He's got a strong grip. Just this evening he took a turn around the sofa which nearly knocked him into the side table, but he veered out of it just fine. That's the skill of a natural born Seeker, that is."

"Or Chaser." Lily repressed a grin and rinsed a plate.

"Seeker," James was determined. "Potters are Seekers. See the trouble with this is," he went on about the broom in his hand, "it contains all sorts of safety precautionary spells to keep one from altering the acceleration."

"Well, perhaps the manufacturers don't wish to be responsible for toddlers careening into furniture at unreasonable speeds. Harry isn't exactly the proper age for such a toy anyway. I don't know what Sirius was thinking."

"He was thinking that his godson will be a skilled flyer and needs a good head-start," James replied proudly.

"He was thinking Harry is as talented as his father, you mean." Lily didn't hide the smile this time, glancing up from the sink to catch her husband's reaction.

"I didn't say it, you did. But yes, that's about right."

"I don't blame him," Lily went on, "but it's not ideal. Harry can't even ride it in the garden. We've no place to let him fly free and can't leave the cottage even if we did." She stared vacantly out the window above the sink out into the still, October night. Occasional beams of light from torches danced against house fronts and garden walls along the sides streets of Godric's Hollow as youngsters darted about dressed in costume to celebrate Halloween. Lily couldn't help but feel a little jealous of their freedom.

"Only for a time, love." James tried to encourage her while still distracted by his project. "This war can't last forever. Harry has his whole life ahead of him. There's plenty of time to fly and play with other children. Other witches and wizards like him."

"Other children in general, James," she corrected him. "He's only one year. Don't assume too much too soon."

"Come now, Lily," James scoffed with a pointed wave of his wand at the broom levitating before his chair causing it to glow purple a few seconds, vibrating with a loud hum before going still. He frowned and glanced between his wand and the toy in mild frustration. "Harry's already shown magical abilities. I don't think we need to worry about that."

Lily knew it to be true and let the reprimand drop, though her husband's arrogance irked her. Sympathetic to Muggles, James Potter did not always share the same regard for Squibs. In Lily's opinion there was no difference. James would never admit he felt differently. Perhaps he did not, but his attitude often proved otherwise. Lily understood that James did not much care if a Squib could not do magic, but more if his son could not. Considering this, her annoyance diminished slightly to be replaced by fear. How would her son defend himself against the Dark Lord if he had no magical abilities?

Lily almost laughed to herself, draining the dirty dish water and drying her hands. What a thought to even consider. Of course Harry would be able to do magic. Little as he was, it was more than obvious that her only son would make a fine wizard someday.

"Oh, James look!" Lily was distracted from her thoughts by the sight of an owl approaching under the light of the street lamp outside the window. Pushing open the pane, she let in the crisp, frosty air and stood back to allow the great winged creature to fly into the kitchen and land on the back of an empty chair by the table. "What does Sirius have to say that couldn't wait until dinner tomorrow?"

James reached for the note tied to the owl's leg and removed it. There was no envelope, only a small scrap of paper rolled up with a hastily written message in his closest friend, Sirius Black's, messy script.

Paid Wormtail a visit, it read. He wasn't home, been gone a while from the looks of it. Something's up, I'm going to poke around, see what I can find. I'll be home later. Send the bird back and I'll have an update returned.

~Padfoot

"What's the matter?" Lily looked alarmed at the frown on her husband's face.

"Peter," James told her, handing over the note for her to read before releasing the bird back into the night and closing the window. She read it quickly and glanced up, meeting his eye and waiting for him to speak. James merely shrugged, not wanting to voice the possibility.

"He wouldn't," Lily was certain. "Not willingly."

"No not willingly," James concurred, though far less confident. "But they may have gotten to him. Voldemort may be keeping him captive for all we know."

"What do we do?" Lily's deep, green eyes grew wide. "Leave? We…we could go to my sister's—"

"No," James was not going to run and hide, certainly not at the detestable Dursleys'. "We don't know anything for sure. He could be anywhere. This is Peter we're talking about. He could be wandering about Diagon Alley or sitting in some Muggle pub drowning in a pint."

"James..." Lily did not appreciate his poor humor.

"We'll find him," he assured her and left the kitchen for the front hall.

"We?" She became alarmed as she followed him. "You can't leave."

"I can't stay here." James pulled a traveling cloak from the closet near the door. "Not until I know for sure."

"Sirius will send word—"

"In his own sweet time, I'm sure." He tossed the cloak over his shoulders and fastened the clasp, turning to his wife with a look of determination she knew would be hard to break. "I'm just going to pop over to Peter's mother's. She'll know if something is amiss."

"That's the first place that Sirius will go. Just wait for him to send another message. Dumbledore told us not to leave, and he still has your Invisibility Cloak. The risk isn't worth it."

"You're worth it," he assured her while reaching for the door. "Harry's worth it." He was tired of relying on others for his family's safety; that was his job. "Just stay close to him. I'll be back in no time."

"Protective enchantments aren't any good if Peter gives us away." Lily held onto his arm, begging him with her eyes not to leave her.

"He won't," James said, stepping out into the frosty air. "I'll be right back, Lil." Crossing to the garden gate, he slipped through and disappeared.

Lily glanced nervously at the sky above the rooftops of the village before closing the door, locking it with her wand, and rushing upstairs. The door to Harry's room was ajar, a soft light filtered into the hall from a lamp on his dresser. Lily moved quietly inside, hoping not to wake him. Harry did not so much as breathing was steady in his deep sleep, rising and falling beneath the light comforter draped over him. Lily gazed down on her child, reaching out and lightly touching his dark hair with the tips of her fingertips.

James had no intention on looking for Wormtail at the Pettigrew cottage. He wouldn't be there, and Mrs. Pettigrew would not know the whereabouts of her son. If James' suspicions were right, he knew exactly where Peter was, and he wasn't going to wait around for Voldemort to torture his friend into giving them up. James didn't care what Dumbledore said. It was his family and his life he was trying to protect.

Aparating outside of a tall garden gate, he ducked into the shadows along a line of shrubs before an obscured meadow looming in the mist. The home of the Lestranges was a dark and ominous abode, befitting of its inhabitants. From where James Potter stood, he could not see the actual manor; the Lestranges too had protective enchantments to keep undesirables from finding their location. The Order of the Phoenix knew the coordinates of the mansion, however, and had monitored the secretive comings and goings of Voldemort's band of Death Eaters for some time. James half expected Sirius to already be there but saw no one as he hid in the shadows and waited.

He did not have to wait long. Out of the gloom came the sound of running footsteps down a stone path. A figure cloaked in black moved rapidly through the iron gate as if it were made of smoke, passing out into the avenue in great haste. James hit the escaping Death Eater with a stunning spell before he could disaparate, and the body fell with a heavy thud to the ground.

Running forward, James turned the immobile form around to get a look at who it was he had stunned. Unable to speak or even blink his eyes, the scowling countenance of Severus Snape glared at him. "Where is he?" James demand with his wand at his longtime enemy's throat. "What did he do with Pettigrew?" Grabbing the front of Snape's robes, he made sure he had a good hold on the putrid Death Eater before releasing the spell which held him. "Where's your Dark Lord?"

Snape wasn't foolish enough to go for his own wand, but grabbed James' fist and shoved him away in disgust. "Why are you here?" he asked in a mix of fury and alarm.

"You know damn well why I'm here. If Voldemort wants my family he's got to come through me. So here I am! Call him out why don't you?"

Scrambling to his feet, Snape thrust Potter off of him and stumbled back a few feet. His face was paler than usual, and enraged moisture swam before his deep, black eyes. "You arrogant fool. You just left her? How could you leave her?"

Jame's own eyes widened at the sight of such fear in the usual hardened expression of Severus Snape, and his throat constricted in panic. "Lily—"

Both men disaparated at the same instance in a swirl of fog and landed outside the cottage in Godric's Hollow. James pushed through the gate first, his heart racing with dread at the sight of the door blasted open and lying in pieces across the threshold. Running into the foyer with Snape right behind him, he glanced around in horror, afraid of what he would find. "Lily!" He climbed the stairs, using the wall to keep himself on his feet as he flew into Harry's room down the hall. "Lily!"

The baby was crying and sounded hoarse from screaming all alone in his bed. Harry strained to reach for his mother through the bars of the crib where she lay sprawled on the floor. A single drop of blood fell like a tear from the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

James dropped to his knees with a sob catching in his throat. Reaching for the lifeless body of his wife, he collapsed with his face against hers and cried. Her brilliant green eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, but the spark of color was gone, diminished by the curse which had claimed her life.

Severus Snape held on to the door frame to keep himself steady. The scene of the room before him was a nightmare and he was overcome with both grief and bitter rage. The child would not stop crying, a sound grating to the nerves, but it was muffled by the throbbing in his ears as his blood pumped rapidly through his veins. James Potter clung to his dead wife on the floor, and Snape withdrew his wand.

"Why weren't you here?" he asked again with ice in his tone. Circling around the mess of toys and fallen objects strewn across the floor, Snape moved in for better aim. Pointing his wand at Potter's chest where James sat with Lily cradled in his arms, he demanded an answer. "How could you even think to leave her?"

There were so many ways he wished to hurt James Potter. The man who had stolen everything from him and took it for granted. The man who did not deserved the happiness he had so foolishly allowed to slip away. Fueled by years of hatred and the sight of his rival sobbing over Lily forever gone, Severus Snape brought a curse to his lips and directed his wand.

A sharp pain hit his wrist and the wand flew out of his grasp before the curse could be given. Snape stepped back in alarm and saw Sirius Black emerge from the shadow of the hall. With his wand on Snape, Black pinned him to the wall and held him there while taking in the scene with disbelief in his eyes.

"James—" He could hardly speak, stunned by the sight of Lily and the sound of both James' and Harry's cries. He did not understand. How had Voldemort gotten to Lily but not James? And they boy… "Where's Voldemort?" He looked at Snape.

The desperate Death Eater had slid to the floor and taken up his wand. Black crossed the room in two long strides and shoved Snape roughly against the wall. "Where's your master, Snivellous," he growled with an extra shove for good measure.

Snape winced slightly as his head hit the plaster, and his jaw tightened with a scowl. He glared at Black with deep loathing before speaking in a tone which did not mask his unbalanced emotions. "I do not have a master anymore."

Sirius' own glare narrowed, and he grabbed Snape's arm, yanking back the fabric of his sleeve to expose the skin. The Dark Mark which should have been there was fading, barely visible any longer. The implications of this were more than Black could process, and he glanced over his shoulder at Harry in his crib. The baby was now only whimpering in the presence of his father and familiar godfather, unsettled but less distraught. The scar showed dark against his pale forehead, and Sirius looked quickly back at Snape in alarm.

"Despite Potter's failure to protect his family," Snape said with malice, "the boy survived and the Dark Lord did not. It is much more than that incompetent imbecile deserves."

"Get out." Sirius thrust him away in disgust. "Run while you can, you dirty snake." Physically shoving Snape from the room, he watched him depart down the hall into the stairwell and out of the house before turning to James still on the floor clutching Lily with heaving sobs.

Sirius stepped around to the crib and picked up Harry. He held him close for comfort, both for the baby and for himself. "I'm sorry, James." he didn't know what to say. It was all so hard to believe. He wanted answers, he wanted to know why Lily lay dead while James appeared untouched. "How did he get in?"

James kept his head bowed, rocking Lily gently with an occasional sniff as the tears continued to fall. His face was flushed, and he dared not look at his best friend for fear Sirius would see the guilt in his eyes.

When Sirius received no response, he lessened his grip on Harry and held him back far enough to get a better look at the scar. Rubbing his thumb across the drying line of blood, he smeared it away. "He's gone then." It didn't make sense how, but the Dark Lord was gone.

And so was Lily.

Sirius crouched down beside James and forced him to let go of Lily before gently easing her back on the floor. Handing over Harry, Sirius ensured that James had control of the baby and his emotions before getting back to his feet. "I'll find him, Prongs," he promised. "I'll weasel that rat out and make sure he knows just what he's done." Going to the door, he paused only long enough to toss back a last request. "Don't go anywhere," he said. He wanted answers when he returned.

James could not have left even if his life depended on it. His guilt pressed him down like a dead weight on the floor, and he clung to Harry now that his wife had been taken from his arms. He sat there in a daze even when Hagrid poked his head through broken door and called up the stairs. The half-giant could not get in, and James did not bother to reply.

In time, it was Dumbledore who found him. The wizened old headmaster stepped in from the hall having silently arrived on the stair. He stood within the door frame, catching every detail of the room from Lily to James to the scar on Harry's forehead. He did not ask James what had happened. He did not ask where Potter had been while his wife was murdered and his son attacked. He simply looked down upon the broken man and took charge of the situation.

"You cannot sit here," he spoke. "It still is not safe for you."

James lifted his head but did not respond.

"Your boy—"

"Harry," the father spoke, croaking out the name with raspy vocal cords.

Dumbledore nodded, "Harry was protected by Lily's sacrifice it seems. That is no small thing. We have an opportunity to take advantage of that protection, if you wish it."

James met Dumbledore's gaze for the first time, appearing confused under his fatigue and pain.

"Sacrificial Protection can last under the shelter of family if…" Dumbledore watched Potter's reaction carefully, "the shelter is linked by blood to the one who provided the sacrifice."

It took a moment for this to sink in, and Dumbledore spoke before James had a chance to object. "Think on it, man, even if it's just for a time. He would be safer with his aunt than anywhere on earth. She can provide him safe-keeping far stronger than even you can right now if you let her."

"No." James shook his head adamantly, struggling to get to his feet while holding his one-year-old tightly in his arms. "No. He's my son." He backed away from Dumbledore as if afraid the headmaster would take Harry from him. "He's mine to take care of. Only mine." Glancing down at Lily once last time, he strengthened his resolve and stumbled out of the room.