Title: Legacy of the Father (1)
Spoilers: First four books; contains some elements introduced in the 5th book, but is set during Harry's 5th year.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created, and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter One - The Mystery

He should be home by now. Certainly, he should be home by now, Lily thought as she rocked baby Harry to sleep. His eyelids hovered a moment or two over his green eyes then closed.

Lily rocked him for a moment or two longer to ensure that he was well and truly asleep. Satisfied that he was, she laid Harry in his cradle and tucked his blanket around him snugly, then headed down the hallway and down the stairs to the kitchen. Her evening tea had gotten cold and stale, so Lily brewed another cup. She hesitated to make another cup yet. No point, really, if James wasn't home yet.

James had left some hours ago to run some errands and minor business. He had told her when he left that he would not be long. That had been in the early afternoon, and, as evening started to set,
Lily's nerves were beginning to fray.

Lily looked out the window, glancing at both the sky and the ground for any sign, but none was forthcoming. Deciding it better to not think on the matter, she went back up to Harry's nursery to watch young Harry sleep and, she hoped, grab a small bit of sleep herself.

James had always loved flying. It was one of the reasons he had loved being Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Now that he was out of Hogwarts, James would sometimes fly about at night,
but recent events had always seemed to find their way to the forefront whenever he thought about this. Lily and Harry were so important to him that he couldn't risk it. Not now. Not with Voldemort on the killing spree as he was.

It had seemed that not long ago, though it was more than ten years ago, Voldemort had shown up on the wizarding scene as the next great evil. Almost from the start, he killed or cursed all who stood in his way. About a year ago, though, he had begun to kill everyone who refused to join him, working his way through the less powerful wizards towards the Potters, and, James thought, eventually to Dumbledore himself.

Pulling himself from his deeper memory to more of the present, he remembered why he had left his wife and child today: he had to deliver two packages. Both now where they would be the safest, James started home again. He walked for an hour or so before he realized that it had gotten awfully dark.
So dark that it was becoming hard to see anything at all. James, stepping into a small thicket on the side of the road, he pulled out his wand and his calendar.


The end of the wand sprung to life and a cheery light spread over the small area. James looked over his calendar. Tonight was scheduled to be a new moon. Perfect. He could fly without near as much worry of being detected. Placing his calendar back into his bag, James begun to head off.

Then he noticed a small patch of a white powder on the ground. Taking a pinch and rolling it between two of his fingers, he soon realized what it was: Floo powder. But the nearest wizard chimney he knew of was at Wormtail's house, some miles away. Why would someone have Floo powder out here?

Dismissing it as just a careless person who had spilled some Floo powder, James decided to headed off. Pulling his broom, shrunk to a few inches, out of his pocket, he quickly turned his wand on it.


A swish and a flick later, the broom began to grow until it was its normal size once again.
Climbing aboard, he jettisoned away, once again enjoying the sensation of the wind against his face and the smell on the breeze this far in the air. I need to get home, James thought. There will be time later for this.

Concentrating more on his flying, the broom and its passenger flew faster and higher in the night sky, speeding north by east. Landing about a half-hour later, James immediate ran up to Harry's nursery. He found his wife Lily and his son Harry both pleasantly asleep. He walked over to the cradle to watch for a moment. The little boy, now a year old, had stolen his heart as quickly as Lily had the first time they had met. Now, unaware of the possible danger around him, James thought, he sleeps so soundly.

Then he glanced at Lily. Her eyes were closed, and she was asleep, but, James noticed, there were tears there. There were also dry streams down her face that spoke to her previous tears' paths. She had been crying in her sleep, and James didn't need to ask why. So many wizards that they had known,
been friends or acquaintances with had been killed by Voldemort. James himself had to admit that so many deaths at the hand of Voldemort had made him grieve most reservedly.

As he watched, Lily woke up.

"You're back. Did everything go okay? Are they hidden safely?"

"Yes, everything went fine. Everything is how it should be, for now."

"Will he be able to find them when the time comes?"

"I know where they are, and there are clues left in some choice places that he should be able to follow."

"James, I am so afraid. What if you were right, and Voldemort is just working his way to Dumbledore? We'd be right in his path. What about Harry?"

"I've thought a lot about that, but that's part of the reason why we decided to make Peter the Secrets Keeper. Sirius was sure Voldemort would look to him, but Peter is more inconspicuous."

"Are you sure about that? After all, this is our lives that we are deciding upon now. Ours and Harry's. Oh, James, without us, where would he go?"

"Well, Sirius is his godfather."

"But only in our world. According to others, he would go my sister's family. He would never know about who he is, and..."

"I know, Lily. It's not a thought I relish in either, but I think that we can trust in Peter. He has been one of our closest friends for many years. I don't think that he would betray us."

"I hope you are right."

Voldemort grinned. His plan was going so well. And more good news was just arriving in the form of Wormtail. With his information, his plan would continue.

"Where are they, Wormtail?"

"At their house, as I said they would be, My Lord. James should just be arriving there."

"The fools still trust in you as their Secrets Keeper, then. Good. Stay here, Wormtail. I have some business to take care of."

Voldemort left, ruefully laughing inside. Those Potters, James and Lily and that son of theirs,
were as good as gone. No one rejected Lord Voldemort without paying the consequences, thought Voldemort. No one.

He pulled a small bag of Floo powder out of his pocket. Wormtail's fireplace was well lit, so Voldemort threw his Floo powder into the flame.

"The Malfoy chimney."

Voldemort stepped into the fire, and he knew instantly of the powder's effectiveness as the scenery blurred and he was suddenly standing in a familiar chimney. There to greet him were Lucius and that simpering wife of his. They also had a young son, but this child, Voldemort mused, would be brought up to appreciate him and the Dark Arts.

"Well, Lucius, is this the boy I hear you speak of so often?"

"Yes, My Lord. This is Draco."

"He will make a fine Dark wizard when he is older. Perhaps he might serve as close to me as his father does, if both of you are loyal."

"It is my hope, My Lord, that you might find us both so worthy."

"You are proving your loyalty daily."

Voldemort moved to door, giving no bidding to either Lucius or his wife. The Malfoys lived much closer to the Potters than Wormtail did, but it would still be a fair walk from here. Some of the way would have to be covered by broomstick, but he could hardly afford to alert the Potters. They may have the means of contacting Dumbledore quickly, and Dumbledore was the last person Voldemort wanted to see right now. His strength was not near what it would have to be to defeat the old man. Over 100 years old and Dumbledore was still one of the most powerful and skilled wizards in the world. It annoyed Voldemort that he could not fight the old man right now and be done with it, but some things required more patience. This was one of them.

Voldemort hated to fly. Perhaps at one time he had liked it, but now it seemed so primative.
Maybe it was because his enemies liked it that Voldemort hated flying. Maybe that was it. But tonight, he must fly. There was no other way. Godric's Hollow was still some miles away, but the journey by Floo powder had covered half the distance. This flight would cover most of the rest.

Tonight's work would bring him one step closer to his goal. Dumbledore. Slowly but surely,
Voldemort was whittling away at Dumbledore's support. Once the Potters were out of the way, there would be very little resistance left.

Focus. I must maintain focus, Voldemort whispered to himself as his broom began to wobble in midair. Leaning forward slightly, the broom responded and Voldemort was once again on his way to Godric's Hollow. The scenery began to change rather rapidly. The suburban scenery was soon replaced by rural manors and farms that had weathered the centuries. Some of these housed wizarding families as old as the manors themselves, some held Muggles that knew nothing of the special heritage of the houses. Some of the Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers that Voldemort hated most lived in some of these old manors.

As he passed over Ottery-St.Catchpole, he saw the Burrow, where that fool Weasley lived. Weasley and his six children and wife were a disgrace to the perfect wizard world that Voldemort wished to create. But the Weasleys too were close to Dumbledore. But, Voldemort thought, the trouble with the Weasleys wasn't the Weasleys themselves but their house. It was one of those damned wizard family houses and the magical chimney that could lead straight to Dumbledore that kept the Weasleys safe.
That and the fact that they were so weak. Voldemort had to deal with the bigger fish tonight.

The Potters.

Focused again on his prey, Voldemort flew onward. It must be done tonight, before the Potters sought refuse elsewhere. They must know that Wormtail had betrayed them. If they didn't know by now,
they would know soon. Then Dumbledore, James, and Lily would choose a new Secrets Keeper. It would mean having to turn another person against them. It would probably be Sirius Black. He would never turn. Never. As the young Potter's godfather, he would be the best protection of the Potters'
secrets. And besides, Voldemort had already tried to turn young Sirius. It was because of his persistance that Sirius had advised the Potters to make Wormtail the new Secrets Keeper. A decision they were going to regret tonight.

Voldemort grinned. There, over the next hill, was Godric's Hollow. Time to land, Voldemort thought. Time to prepare for the cleansing. The house was close now. There was less of a walk than he had thought. Wormtail obviously had landed a good deal further out than Voldemort himself had done.

He could see the lights in the house. He could feel the powerful Charms that protected the house,
Lily's work for sure. Here and there were traces of James' work. The small gnomes that seemed to be made of solid material moved their eyes ever so slightly, giving away James' Transfiguration work.
They would be raising an alarm very soon. Voldemort was sure of it, but no sound came from the still gnomes or from the Charms.

Now he had a clear view of the windows, three which were lit. Two downstairs, one upstairs.
Upstairs, according to Wormtail, is where Voldemort would find the baby Potter's nursery. Something moved into the light of one of the downstairs windows, and Voldemort recognized the build as that of James Potter.

"There you are, Potter," Voldemort whispered under his breath, excitedly.

Moving assuredly now, Voldemort walked straight to the front door, and, with his wand raised, he smashed through the door. In the room to his left was James.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off--"

Lily stood at the top of the stairs slightly to the right of Voldemort. In her arms was young Harry. Lily did not stand long. Obediant to the frantic yells of her husband, Lily ran back down the hallway and disappeared from Voldemort's view.

"Leave him be, Voldemort! He's just a child!"

"But your child, Potter. You know what that makes him. The same thing it makes you."

"He's a child! What wrong has he done you?"

"He was born my enemy. I can't afford to have him live, James."

Voldemort raised his wand, then he noticed that James was running for his, located on the table halfway across the room.

"We were born to be enemies, James."

James had just reached his wand, but already he knew it was too late.


"Avada Kedavra!"

As the green light sped from Voldemort's wand, a faint blue light was emitted from James' wand.
James focused his every cell to add power to the spell. The two beams met in midair, closer to James than to Voldemort. Already the green light of the Killing Curse was winning. It was smashing the blue light and was working its way to James. James concentrated more. There had to be some way to avoid the curse. There had to be some way. His thoughts turned to his wife and son who were hiding upstairs. He had to beat Voldemort for them to be safe. New purpose flowed into James' veins, and with it came new strength. He instinctively added it to the wand's blue light. The green light slowed. But still, James thought, it comes. It was a foot away, an few inches. It was so close now that he could see little else but the light. Everything he saw turned into shades of green. It touched his cheek and instantly he felt the pain run through him.

Voldemort took his tally. One down, one to go, he thought as he looked at the now dead James Potter. James hadn't even given him the satisfaction of screaming at his death. No matter, Voldemort thought. He's dead now. The boy, though, was still very much alive.

The youngest Potter was upstairs. Voldemort made his way up the stairs and, with his wand still drawn, walked down the hallway.


The Locking Charm was too strong to be undone by this spell. Lily's skill in distress was impressive.

"Finite Incantatem!"

A few seconds passed. Then a few more. Slowly, Voldemort sensed that the power of the Locking Charm was dropping. He waited but a few moments more.


The Locking Charm, weakened by Voldemort's Finite Charm, was broken. Voldemort kicked the door open with his foot. Inside the room, guarding her son with her body as a shield, was Lily Potter.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Move aside, you silly girl...stand aside now..."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead--"

Voldemort moved closer, raising his wand slightly.

"Not Harry! Please...have mercy...have mercy..."

Voldemort started to laugh, then something caught his eye. Lily Potter had her wand. He sensed her power flowing into it. She was preparing to catch him off guard. With his wand already charged for use, he quickly acted.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Lily Potter dropped her wand and began to scream in pain. Her body contorted as the curse sent death through her. She fell to the floor as Voldemort laughed in amusement.

"Foolish, really. Now who's here to stop me?"

Voldemort walked over to the crib behind Lily's now dead body. Inside, sitting as stalwartly as his father had stood, was young Harry Potter. Voldemort couldn't help but chuckle. This boy would never grow up to be a threat to him. Not now. Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at Harry's head.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The green light burst forth from Voldemort's wand. It sped towards young Harry as Voldemort laughed, but his laughter was cut short. The green light hit Harry straight in the forehead then bounced back towards its source. Amidst Harry's cries of pain came Voldemort's yells of surprise. He tried to duck from the green light, but he was not fast enough to evade it. It struck him in the shoulder, and he dropped his wand to the floor. He was soon to follow it as he felt the pain start to course its way through him.

This can't be happening, Voldemort thought. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a vial half full of a silvery liquid. Voldemort quickly downed the liquid and stuffed the vial into his cloak.
Picking up his wand, he ran from the house. The Charms he had sensed before entering the house were now gone. The transfigured gnomes were truly stone now. Voldemort thought of these things for only a moment. He started to run into the woods out behind the Potter house. Leaning against a tree for support, Voldemort watched as pieces of the house began to fall off and crumble. Maybe, Voldemort whispered under his breath. Maybe the house would do what he could not.

A sudden sound from the house made Voldemort jump. From the chimney, covered in Floo powder, was Hagrid. The giant man looked about at the ruins of what used to be the Potter house. Enough of the structure was there for Hagrid to make it up the stairs to the nursery. He picked up the infant and,
as he quietly wept, carried Harry out of the house and started to make for the street. A noise from above made both Voldemort and Hagrid look to the night sky and a set of lights that were drawing ever closer to the earth. It was a flying motorcycle. The vehicle he recognized as Sirius Black's motorcycle, and the driver, though Voldemort couldn't make him out clearly, seemed to have the same build of Sirius.

Hagrid greeted the driver, and his loud voice carried far enough that Voldemort could just hear the words.

"Sirius, don't go in. They're both gone, but little Harry here is just fine."

"Give Harry to me, Hagrid. I'm his godfather. I'll look after him..."

"I've got my orders from Dumbledore. He's going to live with his next of kin."

"But they're the biggest Muggles in the world! He'll never learn anything of magic and his parents and our world in that house. Trust me. He's better off with me. I'll explain it to Dumbledore."

"Sorry, Sirius. I really am. Why don't you see to James and Lily before the Muggles get to them."

At this, Sirius sniffled, and his eyes filled with tears. Hagrid patted him on the shoulder as gently as he could. Tears were streaming from Hagrid eyes, too, but he had a job to do.

"How are you going to get back to Dumbledore?"

"There's a larger wizard chimney not too far from here, according to Dumbledore, and I was given plenty of Floo powder."

"If you must take him to Dumbledore, take my bike. I won't need it anymore."

Hagrid pulled his goggles over his eyes, pulled the blankets around Harry, who by now had stopped crying, started the engine, and off they flew into the night.

Voldemort watched them leave. If Hagrid was taking him to Dumbledore, then Dumbledore must already know about all of tonight's events and their outcomes. They all must. Damn them. Damn them all. He would get back at them. Most especially Harry, the boy who dared to beat him. He watched Sirius start to weep over his two dead friends then left out of disgust.