Waiting for the End

Disclaimer: I don\'t own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. And I am making no profit off of this story. All of the words are mine except for a few lines taken from Harry Potter and Prisoner of Azkaban for accuracy.


Waiting For the End

Deep down in his heart, James Potter never thought it would come to this, the threats, the warnings, the hiding, the absolute fear. He never knew fear until he had something he feared to lose, his family. He had been a Gryffindor at his old academy, and was sorted into that house for his bravery, daring, and pure nerve. James searched inside himself for those traits but could feel none of them. He felt scared, isolated, and alone.
His marriage to Lily Evans had been a dream. She was more lovely than he could have ever imagined her in her white dress and bouquet of red roses to match her hair. Her green eyes beneath the veil pierced his as he stood at the end of the aisle, waiting for her to take her place at his side forever. James now wondered if it would have been better to spare her from this fear, if he should have ran for it when he had the chance, if he should have canceled his proposal before his love for her ran too deep. But then Harry would never have come into the world, and that reality was not even comprehensible. To not see his tiny hands, his chubby face, his raven-black hair, was to never see the sun rise again in Godric’s Hollow. To wake up with an empty space next to him in their bed, and to see an empty cradle next to that, created a chilling void inside James to even imagine. What must it be doing to Lily?
He had been standing at their front window in the parlor, looking out from between the blinds, watching the outside world pass before him while he remained motionless. He felt as a prisoner in his own house and, in a manner of speaking, he was. After Deatheaters had been caught trailing himself and his wife throughout London, Dumbledore had practically thrown them into hiding. He placed a Fidelius Charm on their house, and placed Sirius, James’ best friend in the entire world, as the Potter’s Secret Keeper. Their secret could not have been in safer hands. But Sirius had been troubled, and at the last possible minute before the charm had been performed, Sirius had voiced a secret concern. He feared that if someone really wanted to find the Potters, than the first place to go looking for answers would be the best friend: Sirius. He voiced Peter Pettigrew in his place. Dumbledore, more than anybody else, looked skeptical and even offered to fill the position himself, but James had complied with the judgment of his best friend. Who would possibly look for the Potters’ secret inside that of an incompetent and harmless wizard? Peter seemed extremely eager for the job too, and James wasn’t about to deny one of his other closest friends the chance to prove himself. Peter wouldn’t let them down.
James turned suddenly when he heard the stairs creak. Any sharp noise sent his nerves on end, but as he saw his wife’s narrow feet step gracefully off the landing, his chest sank in relief. Without looking at her, his gaze returned to the green grass, the darkening blue sky, the empty street. It was Halloween and the kids had already gone home, although decorations were still shining brightly down the street. He could feel her presence behind him, her eyes on his back, her hesitation as she reached out to him with a slender hand. When he turned to her, Lily retracted her gentle touch and grasped her own elbows instead.
“I was just wondering what you wanted for dinner,” she said in a hollow tone. James remained silent to her question. He could not see the green in her eyes since she did not look him in the face anymore. The long, cherry locks he loved so much were bound tightly in a ponytail on her head since she felt too worn down to fix it in the morning. “I just put Harry down and was getting hungry myself. I think thersomesome bread and some vegetables in the fridge.”
“That’s fine,” he said, and turned again to the window.
Lily retreated from the parlor into the kitchen. James could feel his chest tighten again as he looked into the quiet and still yard and felt that the only things missing were the headstones. There were no friends strolling up the front of the house to drop by. Sirius used to visit nearly every other day after James and Lily were married, especially after they had named him godfather to their son. But now that the Potters were forced into hiding, the merry occasions with his three best friends Sirius, Remus, and Peter, had come to a sudden halt. Their days at Hogwarts together had been the best of his life. There was no more romping in the halls as animals and no more terrorizing the school for enjoyment. There were no more holiday feasts and late-night Quidditch practices. He was grown and had responsibilities. Playing tricks on the unwary were a figment of the past- for there were far worse things hidden in the world that the Marauders could not have prepared themselves for. Voldemort and his Deatheaters lurked around every corner and were crouching in every shadow. For this reason they had been absorbed into the Order of the Phoenix, and took an oath to uphold the honors of magic and swore to put a stop to those who didn’t.
He had taken the oath when he was eighteen. James had pictured himself the bravest Gryffindor, the champion Seeker, the Head Boy, taking on and defeating the most vile wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort. James had not pictured himself the distant husband, the paranoid father, the worrisome man, hiding from Voldemort.
He heard another noise coming from the kitchen. There were soft whimpers and light sobs echoing throughout the silent house. For a moment, he thought that Lily had gone up to retrieve Harry once more, but no, it was her own sobs that met his ears. Letting the blinds fall into place and casting the room in darkness, James made his way into the doorway to the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame and watched her back as she faced the sink. Her small frame trembled and with each small cry her knees gave an unstable wobble. With small, hesitant steps, he edged toward her and opened his mouth to speak, but his voice faded into her sobs.
Suddenly realizing that she was not alone, Lily wiped her eyes on her sleeve hastily and began to chop vegetables at a rapid pace. “Dinner will be does in a minute, James,” she said, sniffing. James reached over and stopped her chopping. She broke down instantly. Her sobs were high pitched but mostly only a heavy wheezing escaped her. She turned and buried her face in his shoulder. He gripped her protectively and settled his chin on the top of her hair.
“I can’t do it anymore!” she cried, “I can’t do it! I’m so scared... and frightened. I can’t keep having nightmares..... of us dying..... of finding Harry dead in his cradle!”
“Shhhh,” he coaxed, running his fingers over her silky hair. He took a deep breath, trying to stop his tears that were threatening to break free. “We’re safe here. We’re saand and Harry’s safe. I won’t let anything happen to you...”
As he held her small body, and felt her tremble against him, he felt his heart ache in his chest. How could she have been put through this? She hadn’t asked for this. No one had asked for this. And now, more than ever, he hated Voldemort. He saw passed the countless victims Voldemort had tortured and killed- when it came to terrorizing his family like this, James couldn’t forgive him.
“I can’t stop,” she said, her hoarse squeaks barely above a whisper, “I can’t stop pacing in front of the windows, in front of Harry’s door. I can’t keep peeking around corners and expecting to find you dead, I can’t.....” Her voice trailed off as she took another ragged breath. This was killing her.
He looked down and saw her pale complexion, and the tears that were falling across her exhausted face. She was beyond tired. She was beyond worried. She was drained, fatigued, and consumed by her doubt.
James hugged her tightly and could feel her breathing slow and her body relax. “I would never let anything happen to you or Harry as long as I walk this Earth, hear me?” His voice choked and she finally met his eyes. He hadn’t seen her eyes in nearly two days and just the quick glimpse filled him with hope. “I love you,” he said.
Lily smiled. Regaining her composure, she broke free from her husband’s embrace and returned to the kitchen sink where she resumed making dinner. James felt as if he couldn’t leave her side and busied himself as well. He retrieved the bread and poured them each a glass of wine to steady their nerves. Dinner was quiet and uneventful. Without Harry screaming, the house seemed twice as big and empty. He hoped they would have more children one day, he thought, when Voldemort was gone- when the fear was gone.
After they had cleaned the few dishes, both Potters made their way back into the living room. “I’m going to check on Harry,” Lily whispered, suddenly worried that the volume of her voice might wake the baby.
James kissed her on the forehead and watched her make her way quietly to the staircase. She was hugging her elbows again. “I’ll be up in a minute,” he said. She disappeared over the landing and he could hear the door to their son’s room creak open. He thought he could hear gentle snoring. He must get that from his mother, he thought, because I don’t think I snore.....
He said he would be up in a minute, but that minute turned into ten, and then ten more. Every moment was spent looking out the windows and re-charming the locks to stay shut. The hourly ritual was enough to drive anyone mad. The Halloween decorations flickered off as the rest of the neighborhood began to fall asleep. Owls hooted outside and crickets chirped. A nearly full moon shone through the window James was positioned at like a sentry. The soft light shone in the glass and he caught a reflection of himself. He looked old. His limbs ached and so did his mind. Removing his glasses, James rubbed his fingers in between his eyes, trying to erase the spots that were appearing before them. He needed sleep.
James sighed as he stared out at the silent neighborhood. No one was coming to attack them and no one was coming to relieve them of house arrest. It was going to be another tense night. Lily had obviously gotten used to him staying up late on guard duty; he had heard her go into their bedroom hours ago. Checking his watch, he read 11:28. Yawning and loosening his shirt collar around his neck, James turned toward the staircase and began to make his way upstairs. As he stepped over the third step from the landing to avoid a creak, he stopped.
Everything stopped.
Suddenly, he could hear Harry begin to whimper and then burst into a fit of screams. The hall light flickered on, and Lily appeared in a heart beat, yawning and clutching her bath robe to her body. When she saw James halfway up the stairs, she ignored Harry for the moment and leaned over the railing, looking confused.
“James, what is it?”
Everything outside had stopped. There was no wind, no owls hooting, and no crickets chirping. It was as if a silencing charm had been placed on and around the house. But it had not stopped his heart from thumping madly.
“James?” she asked again, anxiety quickly taking over.
BOOM!!!
Their front door was nearly blasted off its hinges. A red light poured under the door and through the lock. BOOM!!! The wood splintered and groaned.
James spun to his wife who stood petrified above him. It was him. “Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off!” Lily drew her wand from inside her robe and disappeared into Harry’s bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Having drawn his own wand, James leapt down the stairs and positioned himself in front of the staircase. The door would not last, but himself, that was a different matter.
BOOM!!!
The front door, protected by every locking charm known to James, cracked, and flew off the hinges. A tall, cloaked figure stood silhouetted by the moonlight in the doorway. A high-pitched cackle filled the air and every light blew out, coating them in blackness.
“Mr. Potter, I presume,” cackled Voldemort, “How long did you expect to hide from me?”
“You killed Peter, you son of a bitch!” yelled James, the realization hitting him fully.
A wide, yellow grin appeared from beneath the hood, as well as two gleaming, red eyes. “The rat has its uses.”
A cold fury like James had never known coursed through him. Sweated beaded upon his brow and he clutched his wand so tightly that he could begin to feel the wood splintering into his hand. “Get... out of my... house or I will not... hesitate to kill you,” James growled, his teeth tightly clenched, his voice shaking in rage.
Voldemort sneered and laughed again. “Try it.”
Curses began flying across the room so fast the entryway was lit with sparks and color. James sent another Petrifying curse toward the enemy, but he vanished away as he sent his own Avada Kedavra James’ way. He spun out of harm’s way as the green light shot toward him and dissolved the lower banister. James was sprawled on the steps, panting and bleeding across his chest from near-misses. Pieces of plaster fell from the walls and scorch marks littered the floor. All was quiet again. He stood and walked toward the door. For a fleeting moment, he thought that maybe it had worked....
A neon-yellow light blasted him in the back as he turned to the living room. His body flew through the air and connected with the stone fireplace, knocking a few rocks loose. Completely winded, and unable to breath, James lay on the floor in a heap. A large gash on his forehead bled into his eyes and nearly every bone in his body felt either bruised or broken. With the collision, a picture had fallen from the mantle and lay beside his head. James looked at it for a moment and recognized him, his wife, and his newborn son, their first day home. He couldn’t let the image fade away.
“Bastard!” he coughed through the blood that trickled from his mouth. “You won’t hurt my family...” But as he slowly moved into a crouch he could see that Voldemort had either completely forgotten about him, or had thought him dead. His black cloak slid after him as he began to climb the stairs.
“NO!” yelled James stumbling out from behind the couch and moving forward. “Stay away from them! I’m right here! I’m the one you want!” Voldemort glanced sideways at him and again phim him no heed as he reached the landing. James aimed his wand, “Expelliarmus!” Voldemort’s wand sailed from his hand and back down the stairs, landing in James’ open palm. The Dark Lord’s eyes turned into slits as he turned to face the battered James, barely standing, below him.
“You should have stayed down,” he hissed. James clenched both wands like a life line and stood firm as enemenemy came back down toward him. “Bravery- it won’t save you.”
“It’s gotten me this far,” said James.
An ugly grin spread across Voldemort’s ghoulish face. “Is this what that old man taught you, to be brave? Where is your teacher now, hiding his head in the dirt while his champions fight for him?” James just glared. He would not give that monster the satisfaction of seeing panic. Voldemort smirked. “I thought so. Neither he, nor you concern me, Mr. Potter.” James stared in shock. “You thought you were a match for me? So did the rat. The one thing everyone fails to grasp is that there is something in this world more powerful then they are, an I am it.” He raised his hand and James was flung away from the stair case, the force of a battering ram pinning him to the wall, his feet dangling over the floor. Both wands had dropped from his grasp. He couldn’t breath, and couldn’t move. He was helpless before the man he had sworn to defeat. He had failed everyone, Dumbledore, his friends, his wife, son son. Voldemort glided toward him, a deathly shadow held together by nothing more than hate to the very core. His hand still open, Voldemort paused in front of James before picking up his own wand from the floor. Wiping it on his robes as if James had somehow soiled it, he laughed again. “You and your family pose no threat to me, you most of all. Good-bye, Mr. Potter.”
James watched the monster raise his wand but did not close his eyes. He stared his murderer directly in the face... and smiled. “I’ll be seeing you again,” he gasped.
“AVADA KEDAVRA!!!”

Lily gasped as she heard those cursed words pierce her ears. She had been huddled in her son’s room, desperately thinking of a way out as she listened to her house blasted apart below her. She had leaned out the window and seen Deatheaters circling the house like sharks, fading in and out of the shadows. They were waiting patiently for the Darkmark to appear over the house. They were waiting for their victory. The enemy knew that it was only a matter of time.
A scream teretered her senses and all was as silent as death. “James...” she sobbed. She turned to Harry, who had quieted the moment Lily had entered the room. He stood on wobbly legs in his cradle, staring up at her with green, sparkling eyes. He had no idea what was occurring around him. He was so inno. In. Instantly, Lily swept him from his cradle and clutched him to her so tightly that he began to squirm uncomfortably. “I love you so much, Harry,” she cooed, “You have to live. You have to live to know what happened. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Silver tears slid over her face and dripped into her son’s hair.
There was a creak on the stairs.
Placing her tiny son on the floor, she turned to face the door. Harry began to whimper and tug at her robes, begging to be picked up again. His mother ignored him, her eyes glued on the door. She was done crying, and she was done hiding, and she was tired of waiting for the end.
Another k onk on the stairs, and Lily could hear him reach the top step. Another floorboard groaned- he had circled the banister. A shadow was cast outside the door. She tensed when she heard his spell slither from his lips. “Allohamora.” The lock clicked and the door creaked open, leaving no barriers between them.
“Ah, Mrs. Potter. Stand aside...” Lily’s widened in shock. The Dark Lord himshad had come so far and killed her husband, all to simply kill their son? Nothing made sense anymore, and her head swam. “Stand aside I said!”
“No!” she screamed back, her wand shaking in her hand. Voldemort sneered at her but was growing impatient.
“You’re only invincible as long as you’re alive, girl. You don’t want me to hurt you...”
“You’ll have to do a lot more than that to get to Harry,” Lily said. It was here that she would make a stand against evil, and do whatever it took to stop the vile creature before her.
His icy glare tore through her as he raised his wand. “Expelliarmus!” Lily was flung against the opposite wall and the cradle fell with a crash, nearly landing on the baby still on the floor. Her wand was whipped from her hand and landed in his own. With a quick squeeze, he broke it as if it were no more that a twig. Lily groaned and raised herself from the floor. The full reality swept over her then: she was wandless, utterly alone, and helpless. Voldemort tossed the broken fragments aside and looked down at the boy before him.
Harry had begun to cry again and was looking around desperately for his mother. Lily let out a strangled cry and flung herself forward, blocking her child once again from his view. “Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!” Voldemort had had enough of their meddling. Suddenly seizing her by her soft hair, he attempted to overpower her and forcefully move her out of the way.
“Stand aside you silly girl... stand aside now!”
She struggled with all the strength she could find within her, kicking and scratching. But he was too strong. Throwing her into the wall once more, Voldemort made for the boy. He only managed to get on step closer, however, before he felt himself being held back. He turned, ugly rage boiling over as he tried to struggle free from her fingers.
“Not Harry! Please..ve mve mercy... have mercy!” She pulled at his long cloak, anything to stop him. Small rivers ran over the raw skin below her eyes, and her knuckles were so white on his robes from her grip you would have thought they were bare bone. Saliva dripped from her open mouth as she sobbed, barely able to make out her pleas. “Please no, take me! Kill me instead-”
Voldemort saw her hands pulling at the black material and spit at her. “Unhand me, mud-blood! Enough of this- AVADA KEDAVRA!!!”
The green light struck her in the chest and she out out one final scream before falling to the floor. Her lifeless eyes stared up at him, the last tears rolling down the sides if her face.
Harry had stopped bawling when he saw his mother fall. Flopping onto his hands and knees, the tiny boy moved like a crab across the carpeting until he came to rest by his mother’s head. He stared at her confused, wondering at her fall and her silence as she looked up at him. He tugged at her red hair, an action that always got her attention. She did nothing. Harry sat back down and then looked up at the man still in the room. The baby scowled as he surveyed the man’s blood-red eyes, his waxy flesh, his jagged yellow teeth, and the dark clothing that fluttered with every twitch of his hand. Without his mother or father there, he began to whimper.
Voldemort cocked his head as the boy looked up at him, the tiny green eyes full of defiance just like his parents. “Some prophecy,” he hissed, drawing his wand. “Good-bye... Harry Potter....AVADA KEDAVRA!!!”


Author\'s notes: Thank you for reading and we hope you enjoyed it! Please review our story, good or bad comments, we still want to hear from you. If you like this story, you can visit harrypotterfanfiction.com at read two other stories by Clande called \"The Reflections Fom Azkaban\" and \"The Story That Must Not Be Named.\"