What if We Never Died?

Survival

Harry Potter giggled as the enchanted bubble floated over his head. He laughed even harder when he reached up and popped it. His parents, Lily and James Potter, clapped happily.

The Potters were a family of wizards living in Godric's Hollow in West County, England. Harry Potter, Lily and James' son, was a little over a year old and, in his parents opinion, the best child a parent could ever want. It was October 31, 1981, a holiday the muggles called Halloween. The Potters were playing in their living room floor, teaching little Harry Potter magic.

Suddenly, without warning, James shot his head up. He could've sworn he'd heard someone walking up their steps to the front door. It couldn't have been a muggle, for they had put up enchantments so they could not see the house.

James slowly stood up and walked to the door. Lily held her baby tightly, and Harry, the bubbles forgotten, sat silently in his mothers warm arms.

Then, a loud bang erupted, and the front door fell open, revealing a man in a black cloak with his wand pointing directly at James.

"Lily, run, it's him! Take Harry and save yourselves! I'll take care of him!" James shouted at his wife. Lily obeyed and ran up the stay to Harry's nursery, while Harry cried.

Voldemort laughed a cold, shrieking laugh before he turned to James again and yelled, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" James felt the spell zoom past him, thought it still knocked him over. He was about to get up when an idea struck him.

"James stayed on the ground, trying as hard as he could to stay frozen, to look dead. It seemed to work because Voldemort walked right past him, hardly even glancing down, and walked up the stairs to Lily and Harry.

As quietly as he could, James followed. He winced in pain and looked down at his right leg. Part of the door Voldemort had blasted must have splintered James's leg. Oh, well. He could fix it later, when Voldemort was gone. If there was a later.

As James silently walked up the steps, he could hear Lily pleading with Voldemort. "Please, take me, not Harry, not my Harry!"

Voldemort laughed again. "Silly girl, move out of the way!"

"No no, not Harry, anything, please!"

James picked up the pace. He hated hearing Lily sound so helpless. She was usually very brave and bold. It was a good thing, too, that James sped up. If he hadn't, he probably wouldn't have been able to stop Voldemort from killing his beloved wife.

Just as the green light poured out of the Dark Lord's wand tip, which was pointed straight at Lily, James shoved him out of the way.

But to his horror, the spell not only missed Lily, but it was also heading for his baby son!

The world seemed to slow down as James watched Harry start to cry, his own efforts to stop to spell, and Lily shouting "NO!" James was also pretty sure he heard Voldemort laugh. Then, right as the light hit Harry, it bounced off of his forehead and hit the man in the black cloak. The last thing James saw on Voldemort's face was the deepest, darkest loathing he had ever seen. And then he was gone.

Lily ran towards Harry and James ran towards them. He embraced them in the biggest hug he could, wishing he could be there forever, protecting them.

Harry was balling, and both Lily and James looked at their son. Lily was the first to gasp. Their, right where the spell had hit little Harry, was a scar in the shape of a bolt of lightning. Lily started crying, and James whispered, ever so softly, "I think our one year old son just defeated the most powerful dark wizard ever." He was stunned.

"He'll be famous. We should probably go tell Dumbledore," Lily whispered back.

"We don't have to right now," James replied. "Let's enjoy our last mostly normal night together, before anyone finds out. We'll tell everybody tomorrow." Lily nodded, and the family of three plopped down on the floor and immediately fell asleep.