A soft buzzing awoke me. I rolled over to find the alarm system flashing.

“James,” I hissed, punching the code in to turn off the sound. “Get up. Someone’s here. Magic’s been used.”

“How do you know?” he asked, sitting up and grabbing for his wand. He shook his messy black hair around, trying to wake himself up.

“Magic always leaves traces,” I responded. “Plus, the red light is on. That means it’s detected magic in the air.”

“You sure it’s not Harry?”

“What? Showing his signs early? Sure, why not, but then why would the front door be open?”

“Good point,” he replied, stepping in front of me. “Therefore, I’ll go first. I’ll call to you to let you know if the coast is clear.”

I slowly agreed then let him leave the bedroom. Within seconds he’d escaped my viewing range and all I could see was the dark hallway staring back at me. I heard muffled voices, and then what James was saying became clear.
“Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off!”

Without thinking, without breathing, I ran to where he was. I found James and Voldemort, wands both pointed at each other. A scorch mark on the wall caught my attention, and it looked as if a curse of James’ had gone astray.

“Lily, go! What do you want with us, Voldemort?”

He sneered. “Not you. I want him. Your son. Avada Kedavra!”

I spun around and left the room, running for Harry’s. After slamming the door shut and locking it, I picked Harry up out of his cot. He was slowly waking up, and his sleepy and surprised eyes met mine.

“Shh, honey, it’s all right.” I tried to sound reassuring as I heard Voldemort stumble out of the room down the hall.

The door burst open and the man laughed the most high-pitched laugh I’d ever heard.

“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!”

“Stand aside, you silly girl,” he jeered, stepping forward. “Stand aside now…”

“Not Harry! Please, no! Take me… kill me instead!” I begged turning Harry away from him. Harry seemed to catch on to my fear. We were both crying, and I hugged him tighter. “Not Harry! Please… Have mercy! Have mercy!”

“Avada Kedavra!” Voldemort roared eagerly, and all was black.

****

Rebeus Hagrid, who’d been working in the Order closely with Dumbledore, James, and Lily, was sitting in the Leaky Cauldron when Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix, popped in by his side. Jumping slightly, Hagrid set his bottle of fire whisky aside and took the small roll of parchment from the creature’s beak.

“Blimey,” he said softly. After throwing the check and a tip down on the bar, he Apparated to the cul-de-sac that the Potters resided in.

He walked forward slowly, his eyes closed, afraid of what would be there when he opened them. Shaking slightly, Hagrid opened his right eye, and then his left, and what met him was even worse than what he’d imagined.

Their house was in ruins. It looked as if a fire had erupted and swarmed over the boards, but there was no trace of a single ash. A faint cry caught his attention, and Hagrid pushed through the scattered mess carefully, not wanting to crush anything.

He thought he saw a board move to his left. Whipping around, he bent down and threw it aside. Sure enough, a small boy lay there in his pajamas, crying fiercely. Hagrid picked him up and felt him shaking. His fingers were icy cold and the tip of his nose was pink.

Hagrid looked around for a blanket, but nothing could be found. He kicked aside a few more boards when something he didn’t want to see swam into view: a foot. Hagrid shook his head, trying not to picture who laid there, and wrapped the boy in his jacket, not wanting him to catch pneumonia.

When he’d left the rubble, a few Muggles swarmed around.

“I didn’t even know anyone lived there,” a woman hissed to a man in his late forties.

“Well, they did,” said Hagrid gruffly. “An’ they had a son, too.”

“Oh no. Is he here?”

“Yeah… He’s here. Do… do you min’ if… if he uses yer blanket? I'm sure he’s uncomfortable…”

The woman nodded and took the blanket off of her back. “Here. Let the boy keep it.”

Hagrid nodded thankfully, and began to walk away. “Oh… an’ call the Mug… call the police. There’s… there’s bodies in there, there are.”

When he reached the end of the street, he prepared to Apparate with the boy. However, a grumbling from the sky caught his attention, and before he even knew what was happening, Sirius Black was sitting in front of him on a giant motorbike.

“What happened?” he said, jumping off of the vehicle.

“How’d you know to come?”

“I… Lily and James had me go and check on Peter. He wasn’t there, so I got worried. I was coming to ask if they’d seen him… Are… are they all right?”

No,” said Hagrid simply, hanging his head. He pointed lamely in the direction of the house, and Sirius noticed it for the first time.

“No! NO! They can’t be… No, Hagrid, tell me it’s not true! Tell me!”

“I… I can’t, Sirius. They’re dead.”

“Hagrid, let me take Harry,” Sirius pleaded, trying to regain himself. “I'm his Godfather. He should be with me.”

“I'm on Dumbledore’s orders. He says to take Harry strai’ to ‘em.”

“Well… don’t Apparate with Harry, then. He… He wouldn’t like it. You can have my motorbike. I won’t need it anymore.”

Hagrid looked at him curiously, but took his offer. “Yeah, all righ’. Thanks, Sirius.”

“Anytime,” he smiled softly, looking down into Harry's big green eyes. “Anytime…”

THE END.