Candles in the Dark

Prologue

Lily cuddled Harry close and closed her eyes, singing the familiar lullaby. Her soft red hair stroked her baby's face and he giggled, his tiny feet kicking out playfully. If only it could always be like this, Lily thought desperately. She would never have to think about the future. It would just be her and Harry - and James of course.

A knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts. Putting Harry carefully back into the wooden cot that stood in the corner of the living room, she wiped her streaming eyes and opened the front door.

Sirius stood there and Lily felt so pleased to see him, words just wouldn't come. Sirius smiled sympathetically and she beckoned him in wordlessly.

'Where's James,' Sirius asked as soon as he'd registered his best friend's wife was alone in the house, apart from her baby son.

'Out - work - I - I don't know,' Lily said uncertainly, giving her eyes another nervous wipe.

'Lily,' Sirius said gently, his grey eyes full of terrible sadness. He held out a hand and she hugged him tightly, her beautiful green eyes brimming with tears again.

'I know it's stupid,' she murmured, breathing into his thick coat. 'It's just, with everything that's happened-' she broke off hopelessly.

'I know,' he replied comfortingly. 'And there's Harry!' he said more brightly, spotting his godson, whimpering quietly in the corner. Sirius picked up the little bundle, Harry grinning cheerfully, his green eyes - so like his mother's - blinking peacefully up at him.

'If only I -' Sirius began but then realised it was useless reliving the past. He had really come to see James but he couldn't leave Lily in the state she was in. He had nothing else to do at any rate.

'Have you heard anything from Dumbledore?' Lily asked timidly, flopping down on the sofa and conjuring a fire in the dusty grate.

'No, that's really what I wanted to see James about,' Sirius admitted, cradling Harry in his strong arms. 'It will work out, you know?' he added, seeing the look Lily was wearing on her now tired and frightened face.

'What's the use in hiding,' she murmured helplessly. 'No one can escape him. Not even with this arrangement.' She waved a hand carelessly round the cottage. It had never felt so empty.

'I'll check on Peter tonight,' Sirius said, patting her gingerly on the shoulder. 'Check everything's OK.' Lily nodded silently and Sirius stood up.

'Tell James I came by,' he said, passing Harry gently back into Lily's arms.

'You've been so good to us, Sirius,' she whispered, her gratitude showing. Sirius nodded grimly and disapparated. Lily was left at the door, her infant son, limp in her arms, feeling lonelier than ever.

***

That night, Lily was putting Harry to bed when she heard the front door slam and heavy footsteps echo on the wooden floor. Thinking the worst she reached for her wand and ran to the landing. It was only James though, standing wearily in the hallway.

'Where have you been?' she said resentfully, rushing downstairs and sweeping contemptuously past him. It wasn't James' fault, she knew that, but blame must fall upon someone and Lily was too bitter about her life to care.

'You know where I've been,' James said angrily, hanging up his coat and following her into the kitchen.

'And what did Dumbledore say?' she turned round, all contempt gone, wishing for some good news.

'That we'll have to wait and hope,' James said shortly. 'Peter won't let us down. No one would do that.'

'It will be OK,' he said reassuringly and Lily nodded and turned back to the washing up, convinced but still scared.

*

It was dark outside now and the stars shone brightly, putting the creamy moon to shame. Lily looked out of the bedroom window and longed for a normal life again. She heard Harry crying from the next room, sighed and then went to comfort him.

'Ssshh,' she whispered, rocking him gently. The whimpering stopped and Harry fell asleep, listening to his mother's song, the last time he would ever hear it.

'Lily, he's here!' James voice sounded terrified and Lily jumped up.

'What, he can't be,' she ran to the top of the stairs. James stood in the hallway, his wand in his hand and looked up at her.

'Just take Harry! Go! Run - I'll hold him off! GO!' his blue eyes were clearer than she'd ever seen them and she nodded. But even as she turned into the bedroom, a bang louder than anything she'd ever heard, shook the house. Stifling her sobs, she collected the whining infant as a high-pitched cackle sounded and a blinding flash of light flew up the stairs. She knew it without believing it. James was dead and she was next.

There was nothing she could do now. Heavy boots were climbing the stairs and she shrank, cowering into a corner, Harry clutched close. A second later, Lord Voldemort stepped silently through the door. His white face creased in a sneer. The red eyes darted to Lily's baby boy, quiet and watchful in her shaking arms.

'Stand aside girl.' the high pitched voice was full of malice and Lily's resolve stiffened though her voice didn't match the courage she had mustered in her heart.

'No, not Harry,' she pleaded, holding him tighter still. 'I'll do anything!'

'Stand aside you silly girl! Stand aside!' Lily couldn't help it. She looked into those fearful, snakelike eyes and screamed 'Not Harry, take me, take me instead!'

She saw Lord Voldemort pause, then raise his wand. 'Have mercy! she screamed. HAVE MERCY! - Lily saw the blinding flash of light and felt the curse hit her as she cried out, desperately. But, as she saw her child lying in her motionless arms, she gave him the last thing she could. She cast him her love as the breath was knocked out of her and her eyes closed watching her son, his startling green eyes on her face and his tiny arms reaching out to hold her.

Voldemort grinned cruelly at Lily Potter's body and turned his wand on her child. Harry blinked at him and with a last sneer, he called the words 'Avada Kedavra' into the night. Harry felt nothing, but saw Voldemort's body thrown backwards as the full force of the curse, intended to hit the one- year-old child, engulfed him. Harry, though only a baby, knew his mother was dead, but would forget it soon after. The body of the Dark Lord became a wisp of shadow and the house crumbled around it.

Harry Potter didn't know he was special, he didn't realise he would one day become the most famous child in the world. His green eyes darted back to his mother's body, half covered in rubble and dust. Her eyes were open and glassy but they held the love he had seen so many times. A lightning shaped cut burnt dully on his forehead and he fell dazedly asleep as he heard a man's voice yell in grief outside.

And Harry Potter forgot what he'd seen, though the magical world couldn't. In his dream, his mother and father were dancing in the clouds, happy and together and the baby boy smiled and was content. People gathered in horror outside but it would be many years before Harry Potter understood why he became 'the boy who lived'.

*

A huge black dog prowled cautiously through the undergrowth of the forest, his paws padding the ground noiselessly as he dodged through the trees, bringing him closer and closer to the village. The darkness was lessening now and the cloud overhead broke suddenly to reveal the rising sun, just visible over the horizon far away to the left of the dense trees.

A few solitary birds twittered sleepily in the forest canopy, rustling the leaves on the great oaks and causing the great dog to prowl ever quieter, inching its way through the bracken, its fierce eyes glaring ominously in the quiet morning.

Up ahead, the trees thinned to reveal a wall, old and decaying, the moss spreading slowly over its ancient stones. The dog growled softly as he approached the rotted wooden door, set in the middle of the wall, the brass knocker rusted away but the plaque remaining, covered in cobwebs and dust.

The dog brushed the dust away hurriedly and rubbed the brass plate as if treasuring a forgotten trophy. Lifting a massive paw, the door creaked laboriously open on its remaining hinge, clouds of dirt drifting into the air as wood scraped over hardened soil.

Quick as a shadow, the dog crawled through the gap, its matted fur brushing against the splintered wood as its thin frame slipped easily through the entrance to the deserted village. The door swung slowly shut again, the thump of stone on wood rattling the plaque which faintly held the engraved words:

Godric's Hollow.

The dog moved silently from alley to alley, pausing now and then to observe the odd house, broken-down and unused. Its soft paws echoed on the dusty streets as it headed for a place it knew too well. A place it hadn't visited for fourteen years.

The village was completely empty, a ruin of a once happy place. The life that had inhabited the old cottages had been extinguished long ago. Few knew of its existence now, hidden away behind the great wood, enclosed by ancient walls. It was a cursed ghost town to anyone who stumbled across it; a forgotten age that had been cleverly hidden by time.

A gap in the long row of houses told the dog it had found its destination. The front garden spilled weeds and dried grass onto the sidewalk and the twisted, dead remains of a rosebush lingered in the stony soil. The site had been cleared hurriedly and a small pile of rubble remained where the porch had once been. Other than that, there was no indication that a family had ever lived...or died there.

In the empty village, where only the birds still came, no one saw the black dog transform magically into the tall figure of a man. He bowed his head at the site of the old house and blinked back the bitter tears that welled in his tired eyes.

Fourteen years. Had it really been that long? So long since it had happened yet the memories were fresher than they had ever been.

From the patched grey cloak he wore, the man produced a single pure white flower and placed it on the pavement. He knelt down, muttered words that no one heard and transformed into the great dog he had been. He moved quickly back through the lonely village, barely contrasting with the dark roads he travelled down, though the sun shone brightly overhead.

The wood stretched endlessly before him and the black dog, his spirit stronger, began his long journey back to...where...he didn't know. He bounded through the thick trees, not noticing that - on the edge of the forest, a ghostly stag rode with him, brighter than the moonlight, accompanying his friend home, the way it used to be.