Stand

October 31st, 1981

Lily had fallen asleep with the tattered book in her lap.  She had read Pride and Prejudice countless times, but never seemed to enjoy it any less.  James could not comprehend why she loved it so much; it was tedious and long, full of too much talking and not enough fighting.  

"Lily," he murmured into her hair.  "Lily."  She stirred, opening her eyes halfway, and smiled sleepily at him.  "We should go upstairs to sleep.  We'll both have backaches tomorrow if we stay here."  She nodded and sat up, stretching.  

A soft cracking sound reached their ears.  Husband and wife stopped dead, suddenly no longer tired.  

"James, the spells…"

The horrifying, high-pitched cackle reached their ears.  The one that invaded their nightmares every night.  

You feel like a candle in a hurricane
Just like a picture with a broken frame
Alone and helpless
Like you've lost your fight
But you'll be alright, you'll be alright

"Lily, take Harry and go!" he shouted, diving for his wand.  "It's him!  Go!  Run!  I'll hold him off!"

"That's suicide!"

He grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her desperately.  "I know.  But I can buy you some time.  Now go."  

"James, no—"

He pushed her towards the stairs, almost roughly.  "Go!"

Lily stumbled, her sight blurred by tears, but managed to find the stairs and climb them.  A horribly familiar cackle reverberated through the house, followed by the crash of a curse hitting something.

Too late, Lily realized she had left her wand downstairs.

Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend, till you break
Cause its all you can take
On your knees, you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe your hands, shake it off
Then you stand

The tall figure, robed in flowing black, entered the room slowly, lazily.  "Valiant, Potter, but it won't matter.  She can't Apparate."  A stream of yellow light shot from his wand, which James dodged.  "Ironic, that all your protective spells should work to my advantage."

James dodged another curse, not unlike dodging a Bludger, and threw one of his own.  Voldemort batted it aside effortlessly, destroying the couch and coffee table.  Someone's spell blasted through the wall and half of the kitchen, reducing it to smithereens.  Plaster dust made James' eyes water, and he swore.  He flung another curse at the black shape in front of him.  

"Am I too much without your classmates backing you?"  

James felt a curse hit him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and slamming him against the wall.  

"You have no idea how much I've looked forward to this moment, Potter," he said, advancing on him, wand up.  "You've caused me a lot of grief.  Finally, die.  Avada—"

James threw out a leg, sending the murderous wizard sprawling.  The ridiculousness would have been comical any other time.  James jumped to his feet, planting himself directly in front of the stairs.  "Leave.  Them.  Alone."

Voldemort laughed, rising back to his feet.  "You cannot stop me."

"Watch me."

Life's like a novel
With the end ripped out
The edge of a canyon
With only one way down
Take what you're given before its gone
Start holding on, keep holding on

Regardless of his confident, defiant words, James knew that he could not win this fight.  He was straining his ears, trying to figure out if Lily had gotten out.

James saw the lipless mouth form the words, saw the green light shooting towards him, but even as he moved to dodge, he knew he was a split second too late.

Voldemort cackled again as the life was wiped from hazel eyes.  If anyone had come anywhere close to causing the trouble for him that Dumbledore had, it would be James Potter.  Something resembling a smile appeared on the mutilated face as he walked up the stairs smoothly.  There was no way the girl had escaped, there were too many wards on the house and she had left her wand downstairs.

Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend till you break
Cause its all you can take
On your knees, you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe your hands, shake it off
Then you stand

She had pushed the dresser up against the door in a weak attempt to buy some time.  He blasted it apart with a Reductor Curse, almost embarrassing in its simplicity.  She was holding the crying baby to her chest and deposited him in his crib as Voldemort stepped over the broken wood.  She turned and threw her arms out, as if that would offer some protection.

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

He so wanted to kill her, but Severus had provided invaluable information, and the Dark Lord always rewarded the loyal.  He raised his wand.

"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now."

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

"This is my last warning—"

"Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy… Not Harry!  Not Harry!  Please—I'll do anything—" Desperate tears rolled down her cheeks, but she did not move away from the crib.

"Stand aside.  Stand aside, girl!"

Every time you get up
And get back in the race
One more small piece of you
Starts to fall into place

Voldemort did not have patience for her sniveling.  She was clearly not going to give up the boy.  Severus would just have to deal with it.  

"Avada Kedavra!"

She screamed and fell, hitting the carpet with an ungraceful thud.  

Voldemort kicked a limp arm away and stepped closer to the crib.  The little boy sat there, crying, with one thumb in his mouth.  He breathed deeply.  This was it.  After he killed this mere child, there would be no one who could stop him.  He would be invincible, immortal.  No other witch or wizard had ever split his soul into seven pieces.  He raised his wand and shouted the curse.

Pain.

It's all he knew.  Ripping, clawing, biting, burning, breaking.  He was blind, deaf, and helpless.  For how long, he had no idea…

Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend till you break
Cause its all you can take
On your knees, you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe your hands, shake it off
Then you stand, then you stand

November 1st, 1981

Remus Lupin had never seen a more beautiful sunrise.  Pink and gold arrows shot across the sky, dancing with glee.  A crown of colors adorned the roof of the house, cheering the absence of the glowing green skull-and-snake.  Wizards all over the continent were drinking and celebrating, and why shouldn't they?  He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was finally defeated.  They could breathe easily, live without fear.

Remus, however, was not in a celebratory mood.  He stood in the middle of Godric's Hollow, watching the sunrise spread her lovely orange and lilac wings over what could easily turn out to be the worst day of his life.  It was definitely in the top three already.

Crack.

"Oh my God…It can't be."

"It is, Peter."  Remus' own voice surprised him.  It was quiet, but very calm and steady.

"Harry?"

"He survived somehow.  Dumbledore hid him.  He's safe."

"But…how?"  Peter was so used to his friend, the bookworm, having answers.  But Remus didn't have answers this time.  He just shook his head.  Who knows…

More members of the Order popped into the little neighborhood, one by one.  Murmurs of horror and disbelief grew with every person that arrived.

"How'd he find them?"

"James owled me yesterday…"

"Where is he now?"

Remus couldn't take it anymore.  Anything would be preferable to listening to their chatter, even entering the house in front of him.  He forced one foot to move, then the other, until he was moving forward steadily.

"Remus!  Death Eaters might still be in there!"

He ignored them and pushed open the unlocked front door.

It seemed like everything had been destroyed.  Furniture was in pieces, inhabitants of pictures looked around worriedly from inside smashed frames, broken voices still emitted from the remains of the wireless.  A hole was blasted through the wall to the kitchen, revealing that it was just as destroyed.  Lily's precious blender, a rather fantastic Muggle invention that made fruit drinks, lay shattered.  Remus was aware that Peter had followed him, and maybe one or two others, but he ignored them.

It all could have been fixed with a few spells.  But there was an odd beauty in the wreckage.  It was physical proof of the fight that James had known he would lose, but fought anyway.

James himself had fallen at the bottom of the stairs.  His hazel eyes looked unfamiliar to Remus, devoid of laughter and mischief.  His mouth was open in a shout of warning, one that may or may not have reached Lily.  

Remus had seen friends die, on both sides of the war.  Former classmates, teachers, people he had only known for five minutes.  People who hadn't been part of the Order, cut down because the Death Eaters felt like it.  But this was James, who had devoted three years to finding a way to keep Remus company during his transformations.  Who was never at a loss for a joke, even when Lily was in labor and trying to curse him into oblivion.  Who had crossed wands with Voldemort himself three times, and lived.  Why should this time be any different?

The young wizard had expected to cry.  He had expected to lose all pretenses of invincibility and quiet stability, to break into a small child and beg for his mother to come make everything all right.  He was not prepared for this cold, removed man to take over his body.  He wanted to break, to blubber like a baby in his grief for his best friends, but he couldn't even muster up a tear.  He stepped around James' long, gangly limbs and climbed the stairs.

A cold breeze blew down the hallway from the gaping hole that was what remained of the nursery.  Remus walked in, stepping gingerly in between the splintered ruins of the door and dresser.  A colorful Quidditch mobile twisted around lazily as the miniature Snitch fluttered.  

He moved a broken piece of the crib aside.  Lily's unmistakable eyes were filled with terror and sadness, but her gaze was still fixed on where the crib used to stand.  It was then the last puzzle piece fell into place in Remus' mind.

"SIRIUS!" he screamed, rage flooding his body.  "SIRIUS, DAMN YOU!"