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The Boy Who Never Was



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Old July 1st, 2011, 3:40 pm
ecardina  Female.gif ecardina is offline
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The Boy Who Never Was

What if on that fateful night, the 31rst of October 1981, the Dark Lord had succeeded?

What if he had spared Lily Potter's life? What if the 'boy who lived' was the 'boy who died'. What if the Order of the Phoenix were brought to breaking point? What if another child is the chosen one and his family must flee to protect him? What if Snape has difficulty knowing where his loyalities lie. What if Sirus and the Bellatrix never went to prison? What if a mother wants her revenge?

After I read DH I thought about this. I'm sure somebody already has and has possibly even written a fic but if the have, I know nothing about it.

Set: 1981-1982

Main Characters:

Voldemort
Severus Snape
Lily Potter
Sirius Black
Peter Pettigrew
Remus Lupin
The Long Bottom family
Dumbledore
& various others


__________________
One of Rowena's
~~


Snape
"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Image: http://hettie-young.deviantart.com/g...craps#/d2wqhyt
by me.
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  #2  
Old July 1st, 2011, 11:16 pm
ecardina  Female.gif ecardina is offline
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Joined: 4530 days
Location: Scotland
Age: 27
Posts: 121
Re: The Boy Who Never Was

Warning: This may contain themes upsetting to some, especially, I might add, die hard James Potter fans.

Chapter 1.

The moon was dark and the stars never shined that night. Not a drop of blood had been spilled yet the world was still and cold and the loneliness left the entire house in desolation. The night had surrounded them and so they had held up hope in their home made of light were the evils of the world might not enter. Only now their door had been left open to allow the golden rays to spill out on to the stone path and frosty grass.

The Autumn breeze, cool and full of perish and sleep, slowly made it’s way through the threshold. It seeped into the corridor, softly playing with the net curtains on the door, cooling the framed photos which lined the walls; happy faces, free of pain and full of blissful ignorance. The corridor was made small by the still body, whose arm was outstretched toward the staircase. The breeze flowed through his dark hair, kissing his wide eyes which looked but did not see. The fall to the floor had caused a small hair line crack to form on his glasses, which lay a few feet away from his white face.

Upstairs the only sound that could be heard was that of the slow creaking of floorboards. Someone was surveying the damage done.

It had seemed almost fitting they might leave on this night, the night when the spirits roamed the world of the living. Perhaps the dead returned to whisper ’farewell’ into a loved one’s sleeping ear, to look over the breathing domain which was once was theirs, to walk the dusty path of memories… perhaps. On the night when the worlds were thin and the gates were open, two souls departed together, one carrying the other. However, before they left, as it was within the rights of all that had passed, they had a little time to wander but not long.

The spirits looked down sadly on the body of James Potter. It had seemed, only minutes ago that the face fixed with horror had been animated with laughter and happiness. 21 years of life had been nipped in the bud. One spirit held the other closer.

Upstairs they heard a scream. It was a small scream and not particularly loud but had they been living, they would have wept mercilessly. It was full of regret, heartbreak, remorse and mourning. The dead could not feel as they did in life, nor regret but they did bow their heads as they knew they were powerless to aid. The scream trailed until it was silenced by a sharp hiss and once again the house was silent.

Upstairs they drifted, soundlessly. They once remembered a time when they had, as a family, drank warm honeyed milk together on the top step. They had all dressed for bed and interrupting the serious whisperings of man and wife, they had laughed at the infant who had tipped his bottle over his head. It had been so difficult to get the milk out of the cracks between the floorboards that occasionally stale milk could still be smelt on a warm Summer’s day.

Once they reached the top they could see into the nursery. The door was left lying on it’s hinge and various articles of furniture were over turned. On the floor of the nursery lay the still body of a woman, her hair strewn over her pale, tear streaked face. At the end of the room, standing by the cradle, was the figure of a tall, cloaked man. He twirled his wand slowly with his thin fingers.

The spirits approached the body and held each other close. James Potter had died at 21 years. His son, Harry Potter had died at 1 year, 3 months. They had both died on the night of Halloween, 1981. The father held his son, whilst the infant child looked down quizzically at his mother.

She might have been a corpse, so pale and still. Her vivid green eyes were blood shot, leaking with tears. Her left eye was twitching. Mucus, blood and saliva streamed into the pool of salty tears, which dark red hair ran into. Occasionally she would blink, as if trying to wake up from a bad dream but could not bear the reality and so succumbed to shock.

Lily had tried to save her son. Frantically she had climbed the stairs and barricaded herself within the nursery. She couldn’t stop screaming, for she knew she had no means to protect her child. They had been trapped. Quickly bundling the child into the cradle, she had tried aimlessly to pull a chest of drawers across the door. Perhaps she had generally hoped in the moment of all things that it might save him. When she heard the footsteps coming up the stairs she knew James was gone but there was no time to grieve. She stood in front of the cradle, arms spread, touching it’s corners. In one smooth movement, the door had been thrown open, the chest of drawers violently pushed to the other side of the room.

'Not Harry, please no don't kill him, take me, kill me instead —'

'This is my last warning —'

'Not Harry! Please ... have mercy ... '


She had begged for mercy. She had begged to spare his life, to take her own. Lily could not listen to his threats, his cursed hisses, she could only try. She thought he would kill her, that Voldemort the Dark Lord would smite her, lay her to rest beside her husband. He had raised his wand and opened his mouth… but no sound came. In his terrible eyes she recognised a moment of uncertainty. Mercy perhaps? She soon learned it was of the cursed kind. With a flick of his wand she was lifted off her feet and thrown backwards. Before she could comprehend, to scream to the child who raised himself in his cot, it was all over. The green had filled her child’s eyes and as if laid to rest by unseen hands, the baby fell into eternal slumbers.

All was lost, she welcomed death but could not die.

Why did he change his mind? Why did he not kill them both then? He was capable of it, there was no question about that. Perhaps in those small seconds he felt a destiny, a possibility, as if there was some other fate to be bestowed upon him if he took her life.

‘You were given a chance.’ spoke the serpentine tongue, gloating over the tiny corpse. ‘I gave you more than one opportunity to join my cause.’ The red eyes flickered in their skull as the looming figure started to wrap the baby in a blanket with his wand, as if too disgusted to touch it. ‘Foolish girl. Now your husband and child have paid the price and you’ her blurring eyes could make out the grin ‘a childless widow.’

‘Still, I must give you credit where it is due. You hid well from me for some time. I suspect Dumbledore had his role to play but he could not save them. Pity your loyalty to your friends was not repaid.’

He allowed his bundled prize to hover across the room. He felt no remorse for his crime, no regret. He had taken the life of a child before, abet, not so young. Still, it was necessary and the deed was done. The excitement of the kill had put him in good spirits. It had been almost too easy. Now, he would have the opportunity to torment the defying girl. Still, he had to respect her though. She had, over the years, been a worthy opponent, especially considering she was a mud blood. He would have enjoyed killing her very much. Indeed had he not been in such a rush, he might have shown the couple the entirety of his appreciation for their ‘good work’.

The Dark Lord pulled his cloak around him and knelt down. He placed the bundle by her side and watched her slowly reach out to draw it close. It made no difference to him whether she grew sentimental of not. He had triumphed. He noticed that on the fall she had hit the floor hard and blood was trickling from her nose. Her eyes twitched with the strain of new emotions. He delighted in her pain, her unrelenting sorrow. He sipped it as one does a well aged wine, appreciating its quality. With his wand he carried a strand of her hair before letting it fall.

‘I wonder what fate’ he hissed ‘Severus has destined for you’.

The two spirits watched them leave. The tiny bundle and young woman hovering slowly behind the man in silence. Once again the house was empty. The house sighed with the absence of life and the stillness of death. Together the father and son moved into the afterlife but not without James looking back. She had been the love of his life. Together they had a beautiful son and for all of the good times, the bad times, he thanked her. Still, he would need to leave her. The dead had no influence in the world of the living, he could not protect her now. Perhaps, one day they would meet again. With that last thought, he left, holding the child who would never live.


Illustrations to come.

Feel free to comment if you appreciate this fan fic and want more here: http://www.cosforums.com/showthread....67#post5764867


__________________
One of Rowena's
~~


Snape
"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Image: http://hettie-young.deviantart.com/g...craps#/d2wqhyt
by me.

Last edited by ecardina; July 1st, 2011 at 11:40 pm.
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