Is this the life you chose yourself, or just how it ended up? Is that the yard you pictured when you closed your eyes and dreamed of children in the grass running through the sprinklers? Being somebody's wife, or were you living in another life?
(Wi...
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A/N—
Currently sobbing. Grab your tissues.
— A. Barnes
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The feeling of dread never once left Ascella's being as the month progressed. James noticed the difference in his wife's behavior and how she seemed even more on edge than usual.
By the end of the month, she was on the edge of being sick.
Her nerves had been building all month, and she didn't know what was going to happen, but it would happen soon.
As the evening sky fell on the thirty-first, a random thought crossed Ascella's mind as she watched James playing with Harry.
We fucked up.
She smiled lightly at her husband and son. Tears sprung to her eyes as the twisted feeling of dread caused bile to rise in her throat. The taste lingered in her mouth but she forced it down.
For a moment there was silence. . . And then the front door creaked open.
"Peter?" James called, standing from the couch. He handed Harry to Ascella and headed in the direction of the door. They hadn't been expecting anyone, but there was only three people aside from themselves who could get into their home.
Remus was away on order business.
Sirius was at the old flat, pretending to be their secret keeper.
Peter was supposed to be at home with his mum.
We fucked up.
Ascella thought it for the second time that evening just moments before James's voice rang out in the house.
"Ella, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"
It only took one look at the couch to see the mahogany wand on the burgundy cushion. Hers was in the kitchen.
Neither of them would be able to hold him off for long.
Ascella ran up the stairs, the only place she could go. Harry's face was buried in his mums shoulder, seeking comfort. The moment she reached the top step, a green light flashed behind her and there was a thud. She went into Harry's nursery and closed the door, locking it.
She fought back sobs as she placed him in his bed and pushed furniture in front of the door, hoping it would be enough to keep him out while she attempted wandless apparition.
Her hopes were crushed when the door busted open and the dresser blew to pieces. Ascella came face to face with the wizard she and her husband had successfully hidden from for almost two years.
With his wand pointed at Ascella, he demanded her to step aside.
"No." She told him firmly.
"No?"
"No. Kill me instead, not him, not my boy!"
"Step aside, or else the consequences will be dire."
"I already told you, no. Kill me, he's innocent! The prophecy was wrong! My son is innocent!"
Ascella spent the next several moments pleading for her sons life.
Though when she didn't move for a third time, the bright green light from the tip of his wand illuminated the nursery. Up until that moment, Harry had assumed his parents were playing a game with him.
The moment his young brain realized they weren't games, he began to cry. This unnerved Voldemort and so his wand was pointed right at the child's face as he proceeded to cast the killing curse for the third time that evening.
However the curse rebounded, hit Voldemort, and blew apart a large portion of the cottages second floor.
For now, the dark lord was defeated.
Though not without a price.
A price which many paid.
Many secrets would be buried, until someone along the line let them reach the surface.
The truth would be revealed in due time.
And when it was revealed, may Merlin save their souls.
