Disclaimer: I don't own it. I wish that I did though.

Throughout his life, he has wanted mankind to achieve more; only to be scorned because of it.

He wanted so much for his fellow species, but in the end, he has resigned himself to let it alone.

Nothing good ever came from his prodding, however in the right place his heart was.

He is not an evil man by nature. That was never in his design. He only wanted to be more; so much more.

Not just for himself, but his whole-hearted attempts were only left with strife and loathing.

In the end, he went back to his research; his only driving passion in life. What bought him here of all places, He'll never know. A whim maybe; maybe not, but it was definitely not your run of the mill adventure.

He found solace among the stars; last place he thought to look actually. As he came to this era, he quite literally stumbles onto the proverbial gold mine; a treasure trove of knowledge; just waiting to be tapped.

He did set constants for his stay here however; no tampering with the local populace. He had however, given into temptation.

But, maybe just this once, he can really do so semblance of good. This will be the starting marker on his road to redemption.

At any rate, he'll have a grand time figuring it all out.

Chapter 1

"Take Harry and run! I'll hold him off while you escape!" James frantically exclaimed.

The sound of the entire side of the modest little manor imploding drowned out every other sound in the area. The smoky remains lingered around in the air. In the soot covered remains, a lone figure stood silhouetted against the night.

Lord Voldermort had come for the last of the Potters.

Lily Potter had come a long way since she received her Hogwarts letter upon her eleventh birthday.

A whole new world opened up its maw; devouring her whole. She still had ties to her once muggle heritage through her lone sibling, but this was really the only place for her.

After she found out about this world, she strived to be the very best; to prove herself against the bigotry, and the selfishness of this world. As she looked back on her life, she often wondered what her life would have amounted to if she had never found this wondrous place.

She never really doubted that she couldn't make her life count remaining as a muggle. Sometimes she questioned just exactly why she even bothered in the first place. But, in the end, as she looks upon her life and new family, she could never return; never give this up. She new as soon as Albus told James and herself about this prophecy, she wouldn't have too long a time left.

These morbid thoughts infested her mind constantly. She became obsessed with seeing to her husband and child's safety. Pouring over countless tomes of obscure magic; slaving away precious time that she knew in her heart of hearts she did not have. For in the end, no one ever escapes Voldemort.

In the back of her mind, she always knew this fact, but she liked to think of him as something akin to the proverbial bogeyman. He only has as much power over you that you let him have.

But unlike the aforementioned, he can get you; whether you believe or not. She often wonders how her life got so damn complicated. The only thought on her mind now though was to get her precious baby to safety.

"Where is the boy?" The Dark Lord asked. "You'll never have my family! I'll kill you first!" A frantic James exclaimed. He felt sweat bead upon his brow. James contemplated on his current predicament, mentally running through his list of options for this current crisis.

He came to the sudden realization that he might not make it through this.

"Where is the boy? I'll not ask again. Give him to me. You and your mudblood bitch can walk away with your lives if you hand him over." The Dark Lord stated.

James Potter's mental contemplations came to a screeching halt with that statement. He has defied and escaped the dark menace thrice before, and he could once again. That single thought gave him solace; resolve, and seeing his family to safety gave him strength.

"Like hell you will! I'll fight you till my dieing breath!" James adamantly stated. "Very well then…DIE!" That was the only warning he got. At the very least, he was fortunate that he received one at all.

"Avada Kedavra!" It was funny what two simple yet horrifying words could do to a man, and of the immediate effects it could have. At the last second, James dove out of the way.

Death the color of jade crashed against the modest leather couch only to set it ablaze. "Reducto!" The immediate reply came. The Dark Lord parried the spell with a lazy flick of his wrist; mildly annoyed that his adversary just didn't accept that death had already claimed him.

The spell impacted behind the scourge of the Wizarding World, bringing down the already partially destroyed doorway. Voldemort banished the rubble that came crashing down around him back at the young Potter Lord. It was ironic to him, with darkish humor that the Potter's own home would be used as the very instrument of his destruction.

"Ardere Aeternus, Reflexio!" That particular spell was only known to a select few. It was originally designed by the ancient Greek sword smiths used in metallurgy to rid metals of impurities. It has since then, fell out of practice; not banned per say, but the effects of it on human flesh cannot be denied. In this game of survival, James Potter cannot afford to pull punches.

The rubble was super heated past the point of boiling, and reflected right back to its sender. The Dark Lord dove out of harms way just as the super heated mixture splashed just past his last position. The now ruined front of the Potter home burned and smoldered.

Despite the many enchantments, the home just could not withstand the forces pitted against it. It could do nothing more; save collapse. Voldemort was marginally impressed. He raised a non existent brow to the action, and just as the molten liquid reached him, he vanished with a silent pop; only to reappear behind him. He raised his wand. "Crucio!" He intoned. The torture curse slammed into the back of the Potter Lord.

White hot agony shot throughout the entirety of his being. He has, in the past, been hit with it before, but never from Voldemort. He felt as if he had been stabbed with thousands of white hot knives.

Pain the likes of which he has ever felt filled him. The Dark Lord held the curse for what felt like an eternity and just as James Potter felt as if his mind would collapse, it came to a halt. He lay upon the floor of his now burning sitting room convulsing. Try as he might, he could not muster the strength to stand. Sweat ran down his face in rivers. He was dimly aware of the spittle hanging from his mouth. In his haste of willing the pain away, he took a breath. He felt like one of those muggle boxers floored to the canvas; so out of breath he was. As the long seconds ticked, he barely made it to a kneeling position. As he did so, the Dark Lord gazed at him, and with a single twitch; painfully drove him onto his back.

The Dark Lord looked down at the whimpering Potter Lord; a sneer affixed on his features. "No fight left? I had thought that you wanted me dead? Good waste of my time is all. After I'm done with you, I'll let my faithful defile that which you hold most dear. Your bitch will be made to watch as I snuff the life out of the last heir to the Potter house, and the last thorn in my side. You'll love what I have planned. If not, there is really nothing that can be done about anyway. Why do you fight me Potter? You who come from prime stock could have been one of my most faithful. Yet, you scorn and despise me. You marry well below your station, and consort with charlatans; muggle loving wenches the lot of you! Is my vision too lacking for you? Can you not share in my philosophy for my new kingdom? The strong replace the weak. That is the rule of natural selection. It is the only constant in this existence.

By the look in your face, I see that you still refuse me. The mosaic that I will create has no room in it for the likes of you or your like. My grand design will never be stopped. I will be the stuff of legends! You…you like all the weak: crumble, fall, die… I will live on, immortal, Eternal! It is inevitable, just as I am inevitable. I can't be stopped. Not by prophecy. I don't hold stock in silly notions. They are delusions for the weak; pitiful. Reap the rewards of your father and mother before you…Die James Potter!" The Potter Lord could only muster out a pitiful, "no." "Avada Kedavra!" The death curse shot from the wand of the Dark Lord.

In the last moments of life, the Potter Lord saw his very life flash before his eyes: from his loving childhood, through his Hogwarts years, and on through marriage. Green death enveloped him in its icy clutches. His last living thought was of his wife and child, and the ebon garbed woman silhouetted in the jade light.

Lily Potter ran up the stairs, her heart hammering, threatening to burst from her chest. "I have to get to Harry, I have to get to Harry," was the sole mantra that she kept repeating over and over.

She had heard the trading of spells between her beloved and the Dark Lord. She hoped beyond hope that he made it out alive. Now, her only concern was for her child. After Harry was safe, she could mourn her husband. She cursed the very name of Voldemort, and everything that he stood for. She reached little Harry's room, and flicked her wand at the door. It flew open with a deafly bang.

"Domus Incarcerous!" The door slammed shut with a powerful locking mechanism. She ran to the crib and as hurriedly as she could, and swept the startled child into her arms.

With the shadows wrapping around him, Voldemort creped up the staircase at his leisure. The front rooms of the house had long since collapsed; burning like miniature suns.

The wards upon the home came undone just as soon as the Potter Lord met his demise. "There will be no escape tonight."

He set up anti port key, and apparition wards as an afterthought. The Potter home layout was simple. He could feel Lily Potter up on the second story. "Time to end this eh," he stated out loud. James Potter did not reply.

As Lily took up the child she tried to apparate, only to be slammed back into place painfully. "Uhhhhh, I knew that would have just been too easy; still had to try though."

She knew that she only had one chance for her child now. She laid the babe back into the crib, "Evanesco!" The carpet on the floor disappeared, only to find an intricate drawing. Outlined in long forgotten runes, a pentagram was drawn onto the floor in the blood of the last three Potters. Lily took up the child and knelt before the drawing and started chanting.

I who am the black earth, the Sun in its glory, and the miracle of the waters; I who bring passion and desire in the heart of man; I do call unto you. Arise and come to me. For I am the floods that bring life from the desert, and I am She who bears your soul to Ma'at at life's ending. I gave birth to the oldest Gods, and I was there when mankind was formed from the mud of the Nile. Let my worship be in the heart that trembles before me, for I am the Overcomer of All Enemies and my ways are open only to the pure in heart and the strong of spirit. Know that I am with you always, from your coming in until your going forth. And lo, I shall be beside you in the Boat of Millions of Years as your soul reaches the undying lands and joins me forever.1

The air became magically charged and the pentagram glowed painfully bright. The magic was tangible. Lily wanted to shield her eyes, but knew that breaking the ritual could very well kill her and her child. At the height of the chant, a whole opened up, filled with softest white. Lily heard a voice ring through her mind. The voice itself filled her with happiness and warmth.

Only the birth of Harry could possibly compare to the joy she felt at this moment. There was a distinct musical quality to it. Not even the greatest of symphonies could compare. It wasn't painful in the slightest. She never noticed when her eyes came open. It was the same scene in her mind; beauty beyond compare. The voice spoke in that moment. Lily was awestruck at the sound. She worked up the resolve to respond to its grandeur. "Save my child. Please! Give him the strength to triumph over the scourge of this world; let him wipe the slate clean, give him strength. I beg of YOU!" The voice watched Lily as if judging her worth. She felt infinitely small in its presence. The voice looked upon her and smiled; such warmth she felt then. They light vanished all of a sudden.

The ritual circle lay broken; scoured away in the face of divine light. An unbearable weight lifted then, and she knew peace. Lily thanked all the Gods that they listened to her plea. She looked over at her child, and witnessed a blazing set of runes burn into his forehead. She looked on with alarm as the foreign magic continued its work. Harry never cried out, in fact, he was smiling all the while. She had taken a huge gamble on that particular gambit. Fortunately for her baby, it seems to have paid off.

Lily was blown back to reality as the door shattered. Spraying jagged shards of wood and plaster into the room. Voldemort had arrived, and it seemed that his tolerance for this game was up. "Stand aside bitch, and I may let you live!" "Take me instead! My baby, don't hurt my baby!" Lily exclaimed. "Never let it be said that Lord Voldemort is not a merciful Lord! Avada Kedavra!" The green death claimed its second Potter this night.

Voldemort gazed upon the child on the floor with disgust. "The last of the Potters; can't have you rising up against me. You will go the way of your parents and all others that defy my rein boy." The Dark Lord turned the Ebon Yew upon the child and exclaimed the killing curse. He cackled insanely as the beautiful jade rained down on the child. He watched in satisfaction as the killing curse struck the baby full on the forehead. "It is a clean death. Much better than I you deserve. The world is better off without you boy." Just then, the deadliest curse sank into the child's forehead, and vanished.

The boy's eyes it up a starling green, the very same as death itself. A bright white enveloped the baby, only to expand rapidly outwards. Lord Voldemort took a panicked full step backwards. By then, it was too late. The white mixed with the jade and reflected back onto the Darkest Lord in centuries.

A long agonizing scream penetrated into the night, and just like that, Voldemort's rein of terror came to an abrupt end.

This chapter really didn't give me a warm and fuzzy. But, I had to get the ball rolling somehow.

1.That came from a meditation chant named: The Charge of Sekhmet. I thought that it fits.

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