A/N: edited 25/09/2015.
heyhey! just a notice, I'm editing some of the earlier chapters! the plot wont change at all and nothing major will be added. just the presentation of the idea will be edited. thank you for all the criticisms to this fict and i really appreciate it! thank you to those who ignore the bad writing and got through to the better later chapters. LOVE YOU ALL! thank you for sticking with me and encouraging me.
enough of the sappy stuff.
The wards around the place were nothing more than useless decoration when one had the secret keeper on their side. All this secrecy and hiding for the past few months down the drain just like that. It was a joke really.
Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor, not a Hufflepuff, after all. Bravery over loyalty and all that.
Everything was finally going to end tonight. No more stupid prophecies, no more hope for the light. No more resistance, no more Potters.
He swung the front door open and red eyes met wide hazel ones.
"Lily! Go! Take Harry and run!" James Potter immediately had his wand out and at the ready to defend his family. As if. He was dealing with yours truly, the Dark Lord. This could only end in one way.
The small corridor made Potter easy pickings. His curses easily overpowered the other. Potter was fast, but there was only so much space to move in here. The green light of the killing curse filled up the span of the walkway and Potter went down. Easy.
Stepping over the body, the Dark Lord moved up the stairs and headed straight for the bedroom. He sighed. He wasn't looking forward to dealing with the Potter chit. Severus had asked him to spare her after all. His minion's ridiculous attachment to the mudblood was troublesome.
Love was troublesome.
"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please not Harry!" cried Lily. Voldemort rolled his eyes.
"Step aside, silly girl. I'm not here for you."
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead! Not Harry! Please ... have mercy ... have mercy."
Voldemort gave a mental shrug. Can't say he didn't try. Severus would have to understand that he wasn't a patient man. The Dark Lord threw the killing curse at the red haired woman and didn't even watch as her body slumped to the ground. He had more important things to do. Two down, one to go.
Emerald eyes caught his as he came to stand before the baby cot. The kid was tiny. Did the barmy old coot seriously think that this little thing could take him down? Prophecy or not, it was ridiculous.
He lifted his wand for the third killing curse putting all thoughts about the prophecy away. It was going to be over. The familiar green light left his wand and that was when everything went wrong.
His mind didn't have time to register the rebounding curse. He felt all the air in his lungs leaving his body. He couldn't breathe. His body hurt. His soul hurt. It felt like everything was being torn apart violently. It took a while to register that he was on the ground next to the red headed chit. That was creepy. He felt weak. What just happened?
Shouts and footsteps from outside signalled that the aurors had arrived. He needed to get out of here quick. Using the cot to pull himself up, his eyes involuntarily met with green eyes again. Stupid kid. There was a red scar on the baby's forehead. What did it mean? What exactly just happened?
As the footsteps drew closer, Voldemort did the only sensible thing. He grabbed the baby, holding it awkwardly, and escaped through the window. He tried to ignore the prophecy once, he wasn't going to do it again. If this kid was going to be his defeater, then this kid was coming with him.
Ever since that day, the people believed that Harry Potter, who had unfortunately died along with the most feared wizard of that time, vanquished The Dark Lord and peaceful times had settled over the wizarding community again.
-Fifteen years later-
His black cloak swept the floor as he moved towards this prey. His face was covered with a black mask that matched his jet black hair. Despite the cold, dark atmosphere, his smirk was clearly visible and his emerald eyes showed the pure determination in him.
"Pathetic." The boy stood over the little form shaking in the corner.
"No! Please don't! Have mercy!" squeaked a voice from the pathetic excuse of a man.
"You're a disgrace to the Dark Lord. Look at you, running away the moment Dumbledore announced of your Lord's death. You should have had faith in the Dark Lord." He pointed his sword at the man. "You disgust me. You have been of no use to your Lord and for that, you shall die."
"Please! No! I will serve him again!" The sniveling man clutched on to the end of his robes. Eew.
The boy kicked the man away and rested the tip of his blade under the man's chin. "You will serve the Lord through your death. They will know the Dark Lord has risen again. Thank you for your service." With that, the blade impaled through the man's neck.