Disclaimer:I do not own Harry Potter. Harry potter belongs to the brilliant J K Rowling.

Chapter 1:the beginning

All was silent in Godric's Hollow. The streets of the village were covered in snow as white as the icing on a cake, and the little glimpses of light reflected off of windows long drawn shut hinted at the time of year: Samhain, the time when the spirits of the dead walked the earth once more, when the veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead was at its weakest. Legend had it that sometimes, for a mere second, it was possible to see loved ones long gone on paths long walked, like spirits come to visit those they loved one more time. Many people claimed it was a nonsense, a mere fantasy meant to comfort those grieving, or the imaginations of a desperate brain. Still, many wizards and witches claimed there was truth to it. Some talked of lovers standing at special spots, of parents and siblings appearing in family homes, and even of children returning to see their parents again.

And yet...not a soul was in sight as a hooded figure garbed in a cloak of darkness itself slowly walked down the long, silent road, its cloak barely moving as if even the wind shied away from touching him. The figure moved like an animal stalking its prey, its movements completely silent, its boots seeming to stand on the snow that covered the ground instead of going through it, leaving not even footprints behind to show its passing. As it passed each house it was as if a wall of darkness followed it, covering each and every household in a shroud so thick it seemed to be darkening its surroundings and leaving the figure's every action completely invisible to anyone who happened to be looking.

Not that it would make much of a difference if they could see in the first place.

If they could see, they'd just be able to make out the figure as it seemed to pause in front of an old abandoned house. If they looked closely, they'd be able to see it pull a strange white stick from its robe, stepping forwards only to suddenly vanish on the spot. If they were particularly observant, they might even have noticed the chalk white that was just about visible below the hood, the skin almost translucent so veins could be seen winding their way across his face, like tiny violet snakes hiding in a makeshift skin as they waited for their prey to come to them.

But they couldn't. He'd made sure of that. The darkness that seemed to smother all light around it followed him as he slowly walked towards the cottage, his cloak, dark as night and hiding everything except the cruel curl of his crimson lips as he stared at the site of his final victory. If he were anyone else, he supposed he might feel something almost like excitement, but he'd abandoned such weak human emotions a long time ago. As he gazed through the window, he couldn't help but pause for a moment to observe the parents, his deathly white fingers curling and tightening around the base of his wand as he watched them use their wands to blow bubbles for the amusement of a small child, his face alight with glee at the juvial charm. It was almost pathetic. Even so, his lips curved into something resembling a smile as though he'd long since forgotten how to actually do so as he watched the child destined to destroy him, held in the arms of his father as he giggled and clapped his hands in glee. This...child, was the only creature that could destroy him? The idea would have made him laugh once. It was almost pitiful, but Lord Voldemort could take no chances. If this boy could succeed where Albus Dumbledore himself could not, he must stop him. Here. Now.

Turning his attention to the front door, he felt disgust rising within him as he detected no charms, no wards, as if these fools believed a mere fidelius charm was enough to stop him. With a snarl at their arrogance, red flashed across his vision as he focused his hatred into a single, lethal blast, so powerful it blew the wooden door off its hinges, sending it spinning outwards. It just so happened that the father had at this point stepped into the hallway, spinning as the door flew forwards to meet him. With no time to even lift his wand, the heavy door slammed into him with the force of a car, the force of it carrying him backwards so fast he seemed to fly into the wall behind, the impact sounding through the hall with a sickening crunch of bone against wood. The figure paused in the doorway, taking a second to savour the sound that erupted from the limp form - dead or unconscious, it made no difference. As he stepped into the brightly lit hallway, a scream of horror drew his crimson eyes upwards towards the top of the stairs, where a young, red-haired woman backed into a room and slammed it shut. With a quiet sigh, he slowly, deliberately walked up the stairs, his magic reaching out like a dark veil, smothering the warm light that lit the house, leaving it in icy darkness. Reaching the door, he slowly turned the doorknob, the resistance on the other end causing a hiss of annoyance to escape him. Brandishing his wand, his magic flared outwards towards the door, which immediately began to turn a bright red, then orange, then white as it quickly melted into little more than slag, revealing the pale-faced woman who stood on the other side, her arms flung wide as thought she could somehow stop him with her bare hands.

"Not them, not them, please not them!" The girl pleaded, backing away slightly as he entered the room, his every movement promising death.

"Stand aside, you silly girl," he commanded her, his crimson eyes burning with impatience as he raised his wand. "stand aside, now."

"Not them! Please, have mercy, have mer-"

Yet her pleas fell on deaf ears. Out of patience, he flicked his wand in a single, savage gesture. At once, the young woman was picked up by an invisible force and slammed into the far wall hard enough to shake the entire room, the light fading from her eyes as she slumped to the ground in a crumpled heap, her red hair falling around her limp form like rivers of blood. He barely spared her a glance. 'Pathetic,' he thought to himself, his lip curling in disgust. 'Not even armed.' If he had more time, he'd make sure she was as dead as she looked, but there'd be time for that later. If there was anything left of her, he'd leave the filthy mudblood for Snape if he wanted her so much. Lord Voldemort did reward his servants after all, though how his best spy could desire a creature as worthless as that he could not understand.

Reminding himself of why he was here, he turned his attention to the cot - no, cots - in front of him. Narrowing his eyes, he took a step closer until he could see the two babes over the edges of the white frames, their wide eyes - one brown, one green - staring up at him innocently, complete unaware of why he was idly stroking his wand with a finger, why he was looking at them with such murderous intent in his eyes. It seemed Wormtail was not quite as helpful as he'd like to think he was. A quiet hiss escaped his lips at the thought. He'd deal with that snivelling worm later for his incompetence, but first...

A slight twitch of his wrist lifted the two high into the air, their feet dangling over their cots as they rose higher and higher until they reached eye level with him. His magic holding them there, he studied the two closely; first the brown-eyed one as tears slid silently down his puffy cheeks, then the green-eyed one as he stared at him almost curiously, a look older than the babe's years that for some strange reason sent a chill down his spine. The feeling only angered him, and he raised his wand to point at the two, the tip growing a sickly green as he let his magic flow through the wood. With a dark grin, he surrendered to the exhilaration of victory and uttered the two words he knew would assure he won this war:

"Avada Kedavra."

Adrenaline shot through him as he finished the curse, a twisted grin warping his face as the green blast shot from his wand, lighting the room a sickly green colour as it flew towards the two hovering children like a lightning bolt, illuminating their soon to be corpses with its aura. His grin widened as he waited for the glow to fade, for their small bodies to go limp, for those wide eyes to go dull as the light left their bodies.

Yet...it didn't come. As the smirk slowly morphed into a frown, he felt like he was frozen, entranced by the almost hypnotic aura around the children as it seemed to both flow from within them yet also around them. Even its very colour seemed to change. Where it had just been the violent, serpentine green he'd come to be quite fond of, he watched with horrified eyes that just could not staring as the glow began to brighten, the viridian curse melting into a pale golden so powerful it cast the entire room into shadow. He knew he should stop this. His mind raced, running through the endless curses, spells and rituals he could use to end these insufferable brats. All it would take...is a flick of his wand.

But it was like something held him in place. Like that hypnotic, glow had seized control of every muscle in his body, leaving him to stare like a limp puppet as that blinding golden light built, growing in intensity until it was like looking into the Sun. He was rooted in place, his wand halfway lowered as he prepared to bask in finally ending the War.

That was his last mistake.

As the glow seemed to finally end, Lord Voldemort could do nothing but stare as from the depths of that endless light the green light seemed to re-emerge. Except it was no longer his, tinged as it was with rivulets of golden light that coursed across its surface like a parasite eating away at its power. It was like the nature of the spell itself had changed, from a messenger of death to nothing more than a destroyer of any who stood in its way.

Realisation slowly dawned him as the curse began to pulse, like the aura around the two children was feeding it with power, making it grow in power and size until it was about the size of a bowling ball. As the curse was launched towards him, he barely had time to open his mouth to utter a single, final curse, one that was cut off as the curse was propelled at him fast enough to blur.

The last thing Tom Riddle saw was that spell as it turned his vision green-gold. As it slammed into him with enough force to send him staggering backwards, he couldn't suppress the shiver of fear that shot down his spine as he felt the curse's icy touch, its dark power grasping at what little of his soul remained, trying to suck it from his body. With a gasp of pain, he felt icy pain shoot through his body as the curse wrestled with what little remained of his soul, trying to drag his soul, kicking and screaming, from his body until he felt his very cells screaming with agony as they stretched and ripped, dissipating into nothingness. As the pain became unbearable even to him, he could no longer hold it back.

A scream of raw agony exploded from his throat, his magic ripping through its body as it flew in all directions, rocking the very foundations of the house as he felt his soul leaving his body, barely holding onto the mortal world. As his magic ripped through the room and beyond, blowing out windows, smashing down walls and collapsing ceilings with the mere presence of it, his soul was blasted out of the house, screeching and wailing in frustrated agony, his very essence seeming to dim, his sense of self growing duller and duller. And then...he knew no more.

It took both of them to shift the worst of the rubble. Even with their powers combined, James could feel sweat flowing like a river down his temple as they forced the rubble out of the way, stabilising as much of it as they can and blasting away the debris they couldn't move. He felt his core running on fumes at best, his wand arm shaking as he kept at it, casting reducto after reducto, wingardium leviosa after leviosa, until a small gap formed in between them and the remains of the room. As he lowered his wand in exhaustion, he turned to Lily, seeing she wasn't looking much better. Every muscle in his body shrieked in pain, especially his left arm which hung broken and useless at his side.

"I'll go in first," she said before he could even open his mouth, already striding towards the opening with a slight limp.

"Absolutely not," he snapped, wincing as he went to move his left arm to stop her. "That ceiling could come down at any moment." As if to emphasise his point, a loud creaking sound echoed through the ruined hallway, causing both of them to send nervous glances skywards. "I'm going in first."

"No. You can barely walk and we need to get them both out," Lily retorted, her eyes flashing as she gave him what he called 'the Lily look.' "Besides, you're too big to fit through that gap."

"Then we make it bigger!" He yelled. "I'm not just going to stand around and-"

"Focus on keeping the roof up as long as you can, then," she snapped back. "I'll get in, grab them, and be out of there in less than a minute."

A long glare passed between them, daring the other to back down. To his irritation, James looked away first.

"Fine. One minute only. If you're not out by then, I'm coming in after." Lily didn't need to be told twice, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before darting towards the gap. "And Lil!" She stopped a couple of metres short. "I love you," he told her, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. She smiled back at him, the emerald eyes he fell in love with telling him everything he needed to hear. Then she was gone.

Turning back to the roof, James took a deep breath and raised his wand, trying his best to stop his arm from trembling as he began muttering charms, working desperately to repair the cracked walls. Pooling his magic, he waved his wand at the roof decking, suddenly aware of the sheer weight of it as he struggled to repair it and hold it all up at the same time. It wasn't enough. For every crack he repaired, five more formed. For every part of the roof he stabilised, another started to collapse until he quickly stopped it.

"Lil! Lil!" He yelled, hoping she could hear. "I can't hold it much longer! Hurry!" To prove his point, a loud snapping sound like wood breaking split the air. James barely scrambled out of the way as part of the roof fell where he'd just been standing, burying the floor in layers of shattered tiles and shards of wood and metal. Vision swimming, he forced what little of his magic to the tip of his wind, forming a weak shield above him to protect him for now.

"Lily!" He bellowed. "Get out of there now or I'm coming in and dragging you out!"

"James, I've got them!"

He didn't think he'd ever heard more relieving words, or seen something as thrilling to see Lily carrying two bundles of cloth, covered in soot and dirt but otherwise unharmed. And not a moment too soon, as what little he'd managed to do to support the structure failed. Turning, he shoved her towards the stairs, waiting until she started down them before following as the house began to collapse around them. "Run, now!" He yelled as soot and dust rained down around them, covering them even as they darted out onto the street, their house collapsing before their very eyes. It was just as well, as he felt his legs fail, forcing him to slide to the ground next to what was left of the fence. Barely a second later, Lily slid down next to him, the pair just sitting there as they tried to catch their breath.

"D-Dumbledore and the Order should be here soon," Lily panted, sweeping a sweat-soaked lock of hair away from her face. James nodded, his throat so painfully dry he could only utter "the boys?"

Wordlessly, Lily uncovered the blankets, where two young faces looked up at her with wide eyes. Her face splitting into a smile so wide she felt her cheeks groan, she beamed at James. "They're both okay. We're all okay," she whispered, tears streaming down her face as she turned back to the children, delicately wiping at the bloody marks on their foreheads. As loud cracks split the air around them and Order members begin appearing one by one, Lily couldn't take her eyes off her babies, barely able to believe they were okay. They'd survived, and were completely okay. As she finished cleaning the blood away, she sighed in relief at the only sign of injury on Alex: a scar, barely invisible but there nonetheless.

A scar shaped like a lightning bolt.

That's all for now. As I said, this is a complete rework. Don't worry, new chapters will be coming soon, but I think it's about time I took this and made it what I want to be.

Let me know what you think about this reworked prologue and if you're interested in more. Chapter 2 will be coming in the next couple of weeks.