[1] New Beginnings: Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, and the Philosopher's Stone

1: the beginning

It was dark out, almost midnight. A full moon was shining overhead and an owl hooted somewhere in the night, the only sound heard in the silence of Godric's Hollow. Nothing moved except for a lone figure draped in a cloak, gliding towards a brightly lit house at the end of the lane.

A creak from the rusty gate was heard as the figure entered the yard of the house. A shadow briefly pulled aside a curtain in one of the windows on the first floor, watching the cloaked figure for less than a second, then retreating. The figure walked towards the front door of the house, then stopped as if considering the door. A pale hand reached inside the figure's cloak and pulled out a long stick - no, a wand.

"Alohamora," the figure hissed. There was a small flash of light from the keyhole and a click sounded, signaling the door to be unlocked. Another pale hand with elegant fingers reached out from the cloak, grasped the doorknob, and twisted. The figure opened the door to reveal a man with messy black hair, brown eyes, and square glasses standing in the figure's way. He was unarmed.

"Foolish boy," the figure hissed, "You think that you can defeat me, Lord Voldemort?"

The man said nothing. He glanced in the direction of the stairs leading to the second floor, his face scared but determined.

"Very well," Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, said. He raised his hand holding the wand. The man's eyes widened. Voldemort uttered the Killing Curse.

The man had no time to defend himself or even run. A flash of green light connected with his chest and he flew backward with a shout, landing on the ground, his brown eyes staring up at nothing, dead.

Voldemort laughed coldly. He stepped over the man's body and headed towards the stairs, towards the sound of a baby's cry. The father had been dealt with - that left mother and child. He ascended the stairs and walked down the hallway, his cloak billowing out behind him. He blasted the door to the child's room aside with a spell and pointed his wand at the red-haired and green-eyed woman standing in front of the child's crib.

The woman threw her arms out as if that would protect her child. Like her husband, she didn't even have her wand.

"Stand aside, girl."

"No!" She was shouting at him; as if that would do any good. "Not Harry, take me! Kill me instead of him!"

"Stand aside and you shall be spared."

"No! Take me instead!" The woman was sobbing, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

"Pity." Voldemort raised his wand again, even though he had a promise to keep. There was another flash of green light and the woman with the red hair and green eyes was gone. Voldemort strode forward around the woman to the crib that contained the boy. "Prepare to die, Harry Potter." Voldemort raised his wand for the last time. "Avada Kedavra!" An explosion, big enough to destroy the corner of the house, ripped through Voldemort's entire being. He vanished, not leaving a trace behind him.

The child, Harry Potter, sat in his crib and cried.

Sometime later, a man with limp black hair and a hooked nose came stumbling into Harry's room. He didn't even spare a glance for the child, falling down onto the ground next to the mother as soon as he had entered the room.

"No." His hands hovered over her body, shaking. "No. Lily!" He wailed, mourning the loss of the woman, Lily Potter. He took her shoulders and clutched her body to his chest, grieving a love that would never be fulfilled. His lord had broken his promise. When all of his tears had run dry, the man ran his hand over Lily's eyes, closing them. He got up, took a final, bitter look at Harry, and turned on the spot, vanishing into thin air.