Lily was in a daze, but she did her best to take in the scene around her. This night would never be forgotten; by her, or by history.

Her home was destroyed, the roof having blown off and the medieval plaster walls still crumbling away from where the blast had happened minutes before in Harry's room. Bright orange flames roared violently, licking at the cloudy night sky and wafting great plumes of black smoke up into the atmosphere. They looked like Death Eaters circling. It made her shiver.

She was sat in on the edge of the fountain in the centre of the village, a blanket having been slung around her arms from nowhere. She felt drunk. Minutes ticked by and she registered nothing. Bathilda Bagshot was constantly soothing her, rubbing her back, giving words of assurance, but Lily heard nothing. Alastor Moody kept asking her questions, but she couldn't respond. Even Harry, whose voice usually tugged at her heart so easily, could not bring her back to the present with his cries. Bathilda had eventually tried to lift him from Lily's arms, but Lily could not let go. She wondered if she would ever be able to let him go.

Bits of her home were scattered around the village. Bits of shattered roof tile had landed all over the place, but the bulk of debris lay in Lily's front garden: planks of wood, shreds of carpet, tangled wires and broken bits of glass, singed curtains and curtain poles bent in half... on any other day, she might have been distraught. Their dream home was gone. But a home cannot be a home if you're trapped there, and a dream cannot be sustained when violated by death.

But among the debris of her ruined home was a crumpled body, lifeless and as cold as it had ever been.

Lily could not see Voldemort, nor could anyone else, but she knew he was there. James' invisibility cloak had been thrown over him so as not to scare the handful of children who'd been awoken by the blast and were now peering through Lily and James' garden fence for a closer look.

Little old dears were stood together in packs, whispering about the explosion, what had caused it, who had caused it, and whether it was anything to do with the war.

The war was over. Everything they had been fighting for had ended in, of all places, Harry Potter's nursery.

Harry squirmed in Lily's arms, finally distracting her from her racing thoughts. He pointed with a chubby finger to the shadowy pathway down the side of their house, where a figure was running up towards the scene.

"Dah!" said Harry.

James was a mess. In a dressing gown, his hair a bird's nest, he was running around the village doing all the work. Reassuring villagers, summoning the right people, talking to Aurors, putting out the smaller flames... he jogged towards the group surrounding Lily at the fountain.

"They're on their way," he said when he reached the fountain, slightly breathless but coursing with adrenaline. "So's the muggle Prime Minister. She wants to see the body herself, just to be safe.

Safe?

"I don't know why you covered him," muttered Moody darkly. "I'd have ripped his head off, put it on a spike and paraded it around the village..."

"Yeah, well, we ran out of spikes."

"James, dear," began Bathilda, still rubbing Lily's back. "I think your wife's gone into shock. She's been a little hazy since the aurors arrived."

James crouched down in front of her. She looked into his eyes, not knowing what to think or what to say.

"Lily?" James put his hand on her knee.

"I'm fine, " said Lily, finally looking at him and managing a smile. "It's just... a lot."

"He's gone. We're safe now."

Lily looked up at the thick rolling clouds of black smoke rising into the sky above her house. "Not completely safe..." she murmured.

"No... but-" James looked behind him at where Voldemort's corpse lay. He turned back to Lily. "-it's a game changer."

A sudden commotion started outside their burning house. James spun round. From within the shadowy pathway came a whole legion of important-looking people. Two aurors power-walked into view, their arms held out to their sides to create a barrier between any potential threats and the people behind them.

Albus Dumbledore swept into view, as did Kingsley Shacklebolt, Sirius Black, a young blonde woman in a black power suit, a short dumpy man in an identical suit, the Minister of Magic and the muggle Prime Minister.

James held out his hand to Lily, who took it and stood up. James lead Lily towards the congregation with a hand on her back and another down by his side, close to his wand pocket.

Sirius ran towards them. "Lily..." he threw his arms around her and Harry. She had seen him already this night, when her ears were still ringing and her head was still spinning. He had been the first to arrive from the Order, and had cried and shouted and Lily was shocked to see such emotion from him. If that was his display or relief at their survival, she shuddered to think how he'd have reacted if they hadn't been so lucky.

"Please let me hold Harry," Sirius begged her. "I need to."

She was surprised at how easily she was able to relinquish her child to Sirius. She watched him gently rock Harry, fighting tears. Lily would let him hold Harry for a while longer.

They turned their attentions back to the rest of the arrivals.

The Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold, was a formidable woman. She was stern, strong and serious-faced, with a razor-sharp tongue and a quick wit with the press. She noticed James and Lily approaching them immediately.

"Here they are now, Prime Minister," Bagnold muttered quickly to the short woman with the puffy orange hair.

"Mr Potter," said Bagnold seriously. "Is it true? Is he..."

"See for yourselves," said James, letting go of Lily and opening the garden gate. The aurors entered the garden behind James, followed by the two ministers and their advisors, then Sirius and Kingsley. Lily lingered at the gate, looking round to see if anyone would follow her in, but nobody seemed to dare. Lily stepped through the gate and closed it behind her.

For the audience of villagers, it looked as though the congregation were gathered around a large patch of grass.

"Brace yourselves," said James, reaching down and clutching something that ruffled. He whipped off the invisibility cloak. Lily looked away.

"I say!" exclaimed the muggle Prime Minister, clutching Bagnold's arm. "An invisible sheet!"

"Albus," said Bagnold shakily, her eyes fixed on the limp body before her. "Is he dead? We must be absolutely sure..."

Dumbledore bent down so that his face was inches from the back of Voldemort's head. Tentatively, he reached out and put a hand on the body's shoulder. He rolled it over.

Lily looked down at the body.

Nobody spoke. Voldemort's beady eyes were glassy and unfocused, his mouth hanging open, his body completely intact, despite the explosion, just like Harry and Lily were.

Dumbledore pointed his wand at Voldemort's face. "Finite Incantartem," he said in a low voice. Nothing happened. Dumbledore looked up at Bagnold with a solemn expression. "Minister, with your permission..."

"No," Bagnold said firmly. "I'll do it."

"Do what?" asked the muggle Prime Minister. She looked round at the darkened expressions of the group. "Millicent, what will you do?"

"Isabelle, my wand."

The young blonde witch scrambled around inside her black briefcase and pulled out a wand. She handed it to Bagnold. Bagnold clenched her jaw together as she pointed the wand at Voldemort's body.

"Avada Kedavra,"

Nothing happened.

"What did that do?" demanded the muggle Prime Minister. "What did you just do to... it?"

"Nothing," said Bagnold with a dark smile. "It did nothing. It would have killed him, but he was already dead... he is truly finished."

Lily looked up at her house again, and tried to see beyond the flames at what remained of the building. How damaged it really was.

James stepped over Voldemort's body as though it were a fallen tree branch. He came to stand directly in front of Lily.

"You alright?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "I should be happy."

James nodded in understanding, and put his hands on her shoulders. "Plenty of time for that," he said, before wrapping his arms around her.

"I say, young man!" called the muggle Prime Minister, who was approaching them. James and Lily broke apart. Sirius had come to stand beside them with Harry, who had captured the muggle Prime Minister's attention.

"This little boy must be yours, Sir! I have never seen such a resemblance in two people in all my years!"

Harry was reaching for James now, who took him out of Sirius' arms.

"Yes, Madam. His name is Harry."

"Well!" The Prime Minister grinned at him, brushing his cheek with her finger. "I daresay he is a very lucky chap to have such heroic parents. You should be proud of yourselves."

"Thank you..." said James.

Thoughts of a safe and happy future raising Harry with James flooded Lily's mind. They were vague and undecided. She looked at James. "What happens now?"

"We burn the body," said Dumbledore.

"Minister, " said Isabelle, Bagnold's assistant, timidly. "May I suggest that we keep the body in a coffin at the ministry so that members of the public may see it... you know, so that they know for definite. Then we can burn his body and lock the ashes in a vault at Gringotts... in one of the secret vaults."

The group stared at her, impressed.

"That was much better than my suggestion!" exclaimed Dumbledore cheerily. "Miss Sommier is a credit to your ministry, Millicent!"

Isabelle blushed pink.

"So be it," said Bagnold. "Thank you, Isabelle. I shall entrust you to organise the vault. Blandings, you can sort out a coffin. Kingsley, your men may take this..." she glanced down at the body and nudged Voldemort's face with her shoe. "this... thing down to the Department of Mysteries."

With that, Bagnold walked back down the gravel path and out of the garden gate, where a significant crowd had gathered. Journalists had arrived, their bulbs flashing every few seconds, the scribes stood ready with a quill and notepad in hand. Bagnold stood in front of the crowd, with the rest of the group slowly gathering behind her.

"Members of the wizarding world," she began loudly, attracting the attention of all. "I have an important announcement to make..."

"Mama!" said Harry, pointing somewhere behind her. She glanced round. Dumbledore was blasting water from his wand over the house, extinguishing the flames with a loud hiss. The village began to darken. Harry watched, mesmerised. "Spassshhhh..." he whispered.

It was a shame that Harry would not remember the day he saved the world. Perhaps his hour would come again one day.

"The tyrannical monster, Lord Voldemort, is dead."

There were gasps, a few screams and the babble of talk. Many camera bulbs flashed at once.

"He was destroyed here, at this house, by the combined force of The Potter Family, the Order of The Phoenix and many brave Aurors. His vicious tirade against pureblood and muggle-born integration has been ended by the arduous work of their friends and colleagues."

Lily's best friend had died months ago, but the death of Voldemort brought Lily's grief back round, fresh, just as painful as it had been when she'd first heard the news.

Marlene. The truest embodiment of what it meant be full to the brim of life. As vicious and powerful as a lion, she'd been. A true Gryffindor. Now, there was no fight for Lily to fuel with her grief. She'd have to wait out the pain. Again.

"The wizarding world will have their chance to see the body in due course... but for now, we shall celebrate the dawn of a new era."

They were homeless now. Jobless. The future was blank. In a way, it always was, for everyone. But Lily had no idea at all where they were going.

"We will remember this day as one of liberation and victory. Our world is safe once more, because of the bravery of our kind. Times are changing. We can now face those times surrounded by the love and acceptance of our families and friends."

Lily thought of Petunia and the sisterly relationship that she'd failed to fight for all these years. She'd have another chance now. She had a second chance at all things now.

"To those who followed Voldemort's crusade, I say this: this is the end. The ministry and its allies will continue to defend the liberty of our kind as fiercely as our fallen heroes fought... and to those who rejoice at this news, I say this: We will only remember Voldemort as the face of what happens to wizards who seek to usurp the harmony of our world and underestimate the strong will of our loyal people. Our world remains defended."

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A/N: I hope readers of "Alternative" think this version is improved. There will be a few changes. Not many, but a few.

To new readers, Hello, thankyou for reading, please review/favourite/follow.

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