We would like to dedicate this chapter to all of our readers, who have spent the last five years, read approximately two hundred thousand words, and given us the courage to write. This is and forever will be, our begining. Thank you for sharing it with us.

Points in the Right Direction
Epilogue: Return of the Future

James sighed in tune to the wind whistling past their sitting room window. He glanced longingly outside to where the children were scurrying back and forth across the town square, dressed as all sorts of ludicrous muggle inventions. He dearly wished that Sirius could have dropped by tonight. More though, he wished that they could go outside and have some Halloween fun themselves. He remembered the first Halloween they had had in the cottage, when the renovations weren't even complete. They had baffled and delighted the muggle children with a Jack-o-lantern that kept pulling faces. They had laughed it off to the kids' parents as a new electronic decoration, but Sirius' penchant for extending any of the children's fake beards to Dumbledore proportions was harder to explain away.

"You know, Harry," James said, tickling the stomach of his small son who was sitting on his lap, clad in blue teddy bear pajamas. "If you weren't so cute, I don't know I'd stay cooped up for you any longer." Harry blinked up at him with his brilliant green eyes and gave a wide-cooing smile, as if he knew better than to take his father seriously. James heart swelled at the sight of his perfect boy, whose small, pudgy hand reached up to pat him soothingly on the face.

"I could never leave you," James murmured, his large hand engulfing Harry's tenderly. "Daddy will always be around to protect you. Not that you'll need it," he said proudly, tapping Harry's tiny chest, "you'll have the heart of a Gryffindor lion, just like your parents."

"You will love our child, even if he ends up in Slytherin!" Lily called through the closed kitchen door where she was finishing off a letter to Remus.

James pulled a face, which Harry tried to mirror, but only ended up crossing his eyes instead. "You won't end up in stinking Slytherin, will you, Harry? No, you'll be a star player on the Gryffindor team, and all the girls will chase after you because you'll be so handsome, just like your Dad. Hold out for a red-head with brains, son," James encouraged in mock-whisper designed to carry to Lily's earshot.

"That's the smartest thing you've ever told him," Lily reply was muffled by the wood.

"It is indeed," James mused, ruffling Harry's already messy tufts of black hair. Harry's hand pressed against James' shirt pocket, where he had stowed his wand when he went to pick Harry up from his playpen earlier. Harry smacked the wand through the cloth purposefully, and a few stray sparks shot out of the end, narrowly missing James' face.

"Alright, Harry," he chuckeld, drawing his wand. He began to play one of Harry's favorite games, which they had happened upon when Harry had gone into hysterics when Lily had taken Mr. Pufflesnuffs to be washed once. James produced a small puff of magenta smoke from the tip of his wand, and Harry giggled, reaching out to catch it. A yellow one was next and Harry's tiny fist closed around it almost immediately.

James laughed, as Harry looked extremely put out at having not been able to keep the yellow ring. "Looks like we've got ourselves a seeker here, Mrs. Potter!" he called. Harry stretched, trying to reach a green ring, and leant out so far that he almost fell off of James' lap. James lifted him the short distance from his knee to the floor, just in case.

"Yes, well it's time for the future seeker's bathtime," Lily said sardonically as she entered the room to find her two black-haired boys on the floor.

"What house?" James prodded, his hands hovering around Harry's round form as Lily bent over. Lily gave James a glare that was more amused than anything. Clear that he would not relinquish the boy until she conceded defeat, Lily said, "Gryffindor."

"That's my girl." James scooped up Harry, and handed him over to Lily who made toward the stairs, cooing to Harry about how silly his father was.

James dropped his wand on the sofa and raised his arms above his head, the satisfied pops of stiff joints rewarding the movement. He would give anything to go for a fly. Even for a walk. He strode toward the study, where Al's perch was, and almost tripped over the cat, who was still a brilliant shade of peacock from when Harry had gotten a hold of his wand earlier. The cat hissed, then scrambled under the stairs as the sound of wood cracking on wood rang through the cottage.

It had sounded like…the door.

His brain barely able to comprehend what was occurring, James sprinted into the hall. His eyes flicked desperately toward the sofa where he had foolishly left his wand. Then they turned to the horrifyingly familiar long, white fingered hand clutching the wand pointed straight at him.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go!" he called, knowing there was no exit upstairs, praying she could climb out a window, anything. "Run! I'll hold him off!"

But even as he called the words, he knew it was over. He still couldn't help maneuvering himself toward the entrance to the sitting room, placing himself as best he could in between Lord Voldemort and his family.

Then all he saw was green.

~PRD~

Upstairs, Lily scrambled to barricade the door by hand, her wand forgotten on the bathroom counter. Anything to slow him down. She fought back tears as she tumbled to the window, but she could not seem to stop screaming her husband's name as she tried to throw open the window with one trembling hand, the other clutching Harry to her. James had stopped yelling…he had stopped…

The door flew open and Voldemort glided into the room, her flimsy protection flying away at the mere hint of movement from his wand. She turned, deposited Harry in the crib and threw her arms wide in an instinctive gesture of protection

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" she pleaded, knowing why he had come. Anything but her son…he already had…

"Stand aside, you silly girl," the cold voice instructed. She could stand aside?

"Stand aside now," Voldemort demdanded, the wand twitching in his skeletal fingers.

Lily stared into the red, heartless eyes of Voldemort. "Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—"

"This is my last warning—"

Lily backed up farther into the crib as Voldemort advanced, arms stretched to the point of pain, trying to hide her precious son. "Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy…Not Harry! Not Harry! Please—I'll do anything—"

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"

The last thing she felt was Harry's tiny fingers brush the back of her leg where he gripped the bars in crib before the world flashed green. Slowly, as if time had stopped working properly, the jet of light arched toward her and she thought only two things.

Harry. Someone save Harry.

And finally, James.

~PRD~

Severus Snape drew up his hood, shielding his face from the many curious onlookers who had gathered around the ruined house. They were gawking at it like it was a tourist attraction, a curiosity. Many spoke in hushed whispers, raising bottles of butterbeer and toasting the bravery of "Little Harry Potter!"

Snape could not help the spasm that wracked his frame at the thought of what he had agreed to do. He had promised Albus Dumbledore that he would protect Lily's son.

He had to think of him that way, he could not acknowledge that he was the product of her being with…him.

He felt a rush of hatred toward the baby he had never seen. It was the reason she had died, had refused Voldemort's rare offer of safety. It was the reason that she was not safe, in his arms.

Fat tears leaked unbidden and ugly down Snape's hooked nose, dropping onto the leaf-strewn ground.

"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son." Dumbledore's words floated toward the forefront of his mind, as welcome as his tears.

Yes, he would help protect Lily's son, because it was what she would have wanted. He would silently help her child grow up safely…But his reasons for doing so were entirely selfish.

"He has her eyes, precisely her eyes."

Maybe one day, if he performed this task well enough, he might finally see his long sought-after forgiveness reflected in those perfect, emerald eyes.

~PRD~

Sirius Black stared at the carnage as the ash and debris settled, raining down around him. Torn up bodies lay scattered, cut up by the glass that had exploded out of the windows. The odd discordant symphony of sirens, moans, and panicked shouts reached his ears.

He lowered his shield charm and turned his eyes toward the gigantic crater in the middle of the street, where a lone, plump finger sat oozing blood onto the web of cracks in the concrete like a strange mutation of a spider.

Then he threw back his head and began to laugh manically.

Outsmarted. They had all been outsmarted by the one person none of them had suspected even capable of betraying them due to sheer lack of brains. He had been watching Remus like a hawk, unwilling to truly believe and yet unable to think of a different alternative as to who had been spying on James.

Through the haze of emotions, shock, grief, anger, hatred, remorse—he could only seem to focus one single thought.

Peter had betrayed them all.

The simple truth of it was so bizare that Sirius could not stop the laughter from continuing to bubble out of him, even as Magical Law Enforcement arrived on the scene, and unbreakable chains were clamped to wrists. He laughed, even as they led him away toward the inescapable darkness that was Azakaban.

Sirius knew that he would live with this moment for the rest of his life, for it was not a happy one. The dementors therefore, would not remove it from him.

The weakest Marauder had just pulled off the biggest joke of them all. So Sirius continued to laugh.

Nearby, a small, dark rat with a toe missing on his front paw, scurried deep into the sanctuary of the sewers. Relief, and a feeling akin to victory escaped the creature in a satisfied squeak.

~PRD~

Remus sagged onto a bench outside the Leaky Cauldron. He could hear traces of the raucous party still raging on inside it as wizards celebrated the downfall of the Dark Lord.

Wizards rushed by him to get inside. They were brimming with the recent news that Sirius Black had just been carted off to Azkaban after blowing up thirteen people with a single curse. Peter Pettigrew had died valiantly in the attempt to face the traitor.

Remus had watched from a distance as Sirius was carted off, his bark-like peals of laughter ripping through the rest of the confusion on the scene. He had been headed toward Sirius' flat to confront him…but Peter, it seemed had gotten there first.

Poor, Peter. Small, weak, inept Peter who had always steadfastly stood by them.

Even through the midst of the ire pulsing through his body with every beat of his heart at the betrayal of Lily and James, Remus grieved. He placed his head in his hands and felt the loneliness consume him. Lily and James gone. Peter gone. And Sirius would surely rot away in the bowels of Azkaban for his treachery. Here he was, the last of the infamous Marauders, the last member of the tiny family he had found. A sob wracked his thin frame.

"Don't be sad, Mister." Remus looked up to see a girl with shoulder-length hair that was a shade of pink bright enough to rival her voice. She tripped as she turned to clamber up onto the bench next to him and he steadied her without even thinking about it.

She beamed up at him toothily before screwing her face up in concentration, her hair turning a brilliant blue. "I heard a wizard say that Harry Potter's eyes are blue," she said, as if they had already been discussing this topic for some time. "I want to grow up to be an Auror, then I can help save everyone too, just like him."

Remus could not help the smile that wormed its way out of his sadness. "Harry's eyes are green. Bright green." The girl frowned, brow furrowing, and her hair turned the same color as Harry's eyes. She looked at him for approval and he nodded, unable to speak.

She patted his arm as if they were old friends, her hair returning toward its original pink. "It's okay to be sad as long as you remember that things will get better," she said sagely, her heart shaped face flushing when she realized her hand was still on his arm. She quickly buried it in her lap.

"That's very wise," Remus replied.

"That's what my Mom always says," the girl said proudly.

"Nymphadora!" a dark-haired woman gasped, pulling her daughter off of the bench. "I have been worried sick. I'm so sorry if she bothered you," she said politely toward Remus, who shook his head.

"Not at all."

The little girl grinned, her hair turning the same sandy color as his as her mom pulled her into the busy footraffic of the street.

"It'll get better!" she called over her shoulder before she was lost in the crowd.

Remus certainly hoped she was right.

~PRD~

Unaware of any of these events, Harry Potter was sleeping the deep slumber of one who has just endured a great deal of dark magic.

Harry turned over in his blankets, burrowing closer to the nice man who had pulled him from the rubble. He was vaguely aware of the rumbling of the motorbike as they soared through the sky, and liked the sensation of the cool air brushing his cheek. The man holding him was familiar, he had only seen him once or twice before, but he was hard to forget since he was so much larger than Harry.

Even in this unconscious state, Harry still knew many things.

He knew that he did not like the strange green light that had burst out of the wand of the odd-faced stranger. He knew that he did not like the stranger's laughter. It was not nice like his parents'.

Harry also knew that he was not fond of being propelled from the second floor of the house as it exploded. He knew he liked bouncing to safety, he had only done it once before when Uncle Sirius had accidentally left his crib bar down.

Harry knew that something had just happened that wasn't supposed to, for he had cried and neither of his parents had responded. At the same time, Harry knew that he was safe with this massive man, one small hand curling into the soft fabric of the coat he was nestled in.

Yet, Harry did not know many things.

He was not aware that his stuffed badger had been blown to smithereens by the strange green light that flared every now and again in his relatively dreamless rest, or he would most certainly not be in such a peaceful state.

Harry did not know that he was en route to his Aunt and Uncle's house. He did not know that he had just become the only wizard to have ever faced the killing curse and survive. He did not know that he had just faced the most feared wizard the world had ever seen and defeated him without lifting a finger. Harry Potter did not know that in that instant, he had become the stuff of legend.

But most importantly, Harry Potter did not know that his parents' story was over and that this night- this night had become the beginning of his own.

A/N: Again we thank you all so much for taking the time to read our humble story. Reviews are always appreciated, especially now as we move onto writing our own works of original fiction. We hoped you enjoyed reading Points in the Right Direction as much as we did writing it.

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