The Night That Never Was

The night that changed forever.


1. ~*~

The mist was settling over Godric's Hollow, muffling the screams of sugar filled children as they gathered sweets from their neighbours for wearing an array of rather un-scary costumes. In the distance, a young boy saw a tall, dark figure and thought nothing of it. The figure glided with a sense of determination toward the outskirts of the village.

“Nice costume, mister!” Yelled the boy as the figure drew closer.

At the sound of the boys voice, the figure moved allowing the boy to see it was a man in a hooded cloak. The hood looked at the boy, who stumbled and screamed as he saw what was under the hood. The man sniggered, knowing the boy would forever have nightmares about glowing red eyes.


On the outskirts of Godric's Hollow stood a row of normal looking houses, but hidden in these houses were wizards and witches. To those without certain knowledge, there was a gap between two houses, like there was a house missing, but to those who knew, there was a house, hidden by powerful magic. Through the window, a small boy could be seen riding on a toy broomstick as his father watched him, laughing. A woman with a sheet of red hair came into the room and smiled at the black haired boy as he zoomed around, barely missing the cat that was sleeping in front of the fire. The woman spoke quietly and gestured to her son. The boys father nodded and ruffled his messy hair, making it look like he had just stepped off of the Quidditch pitch.


Outside, the figure gently pushed on the gate, which creaked but didn't alert the occupants. The mans black cloak flowed around him as he walked slowly up the garden path. Through the window he watched the boys mother pick him up and cuddle him, noticing two wands lying on the living room table. He let out a snort of derision, how could they not protect themselves at a time like this? They knew he was coming. From under his cloak, the man drew a wand and pointed it at the front door, blasting it wide open.

“JAMES!” Screamed the woman.

“Lily, go! Take Harry!” James shouted at the woman, who was clutching her precious son to her chest.

The cloaked man fought back the urge to laugh as he stepped into the dim hallway. How could they think running was going to save them? Lily took off up the stairs, two at a time, her hair flying behind her. The Dark wizard slowly raised his wand until it was level with James' forehead, tilted his head to the side slightly and smiled a twisted smile.

“I'm going to enjoy this,” he whispered.


Suddenly, James rose his own arm, holding a wand hidden in his pocket, and the hallway was lit by a bright red flash. The light blinded the man and forced him backwards. He tripped over the hem of his cloak and was momentarily immobolised. During the commotion, James took off up the stairs to find his wife and child.

“Quick, Lily, he's coming. Voldemort's coming!” He shouted as he slammed open the door to his sons room.

The door bounced off the wall behind it, chipping the pale blue paint. Lily was shaking with fear, while Harry was in her arms looking up at his mother without any fear in his eyes. There were no footsteps on the stairs to alert the family that their assailant had recovered. The swish of a cloak against carpet, almost impossible to hear over the laboured breathing. Lily carefully put Harry in his cot as James stepped in front his wife. Through the door came the cloak, looking very much like a Dementor. Lily moved to stand next her husband, protecting their son, invoking a stronger magic than anyone could conjure with a wand; the protection of love. Voldemort cackled loudly as he raised his wand. The room was filled with bangs and flashes of bright green light. The walls cracked, the ceiling began to crumble, dust blinded them. Harry was sat in his cot, clapping and smiling at the light show.


When the dust settled, there was nothing to suggest there had been another person in the house, except for a black cloak crumpled in the floor. 

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