"you have me. until the very last star in the galaxy dies, you have me."
With a war on the rise, 8 friends must try to understand their importance in a world that is slowly crumbling around them. Darkness appears out of every place in their lives...
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"it was much too late for us"
When Cleo thinks back on the night of October 31st, 1981, the thing she remembers most vividly is the pumpkin.
Cradled in her arms as she wobbled left and right, tightly locked in Sirius's grip, she remembers how heavy it had been. The hollow thunk of it occasionally hitting her hip echoes loudly in her mind. She remembers the waxy exterior that slipped through her fingers time and time again on their brief walk to the Potter's house, and then she remembers it slipping from her grasp and hitting the floor, thudding dully upon the pavement as it cracked open, pumpkin guts splattering on her shoes. The intense smell of pumpkin hit her like a wave, even above the smell of smoke and decay that choked everything in and around the house.
Hagrid would report to Dumbledore later that the house in Godric's Hollow was "almost" destroyed. That an evil curse had desecrated a once beautiful home that teemed with life and love. Critics and fanatics for years to come will argue that it was the curse that ricocheted that really demolished the home. No one will ever truly know what did it, but everyone will only know that it was done.
No one else will ever know that Remus ripped a bloodied hole in his jeans when he dropped to his knees on the sidewalk in shock.
No one else will know that Sirius ran into the house first, screaming James's name. No one else would know that he kicked and punched and hexed the debris inside, searching for someone to fight whose physical body was no longer there.
No one else will know that ash covered the body of James Potter, who died trying to protect his wife and child.
His glasses had been broken, and the shattered glass from the broken lens cut into his cheek pressed against the carpet on the stairs. No one else will know that Sirius wept as he had never wept before, holding the body of his friend tight.
No one else will know the way Cleo screamed when she saw Lily Potter's body in the nursery or the way that Remus cried in the blackened living room until he couldn't breathe, too afraid to go up the stairs, knowing that if he did, he would never come back down.
But everyone will know that amidst the bodies of his Mummy and Daddy, there was a crying baby, frightened and sobbing in his crib. A red, bleeding scar cut deep into his forehead beneath his fuzzy black hair. No one else was there to see the way Cleo held onto Harry Potter, sinking to the floor at Lily's feet with her son in Cleo's hands, shaking.
No one else was there when Sirius ran to Remus, rage drowning out every voice in his head telling him it wasn't him, couldn't have been him, as he pulled his fist back and punched him in the face. And no one was there to see Remus take it without trying to put up a fight.
Though everyone remembers what happened here that night, no one remembers it quite like they do.
There was a crack outside that pulled Cleo from the room. On shaking legs, she stood, cradling a still crying Harry to her chest, as she picked herself out of the room and down the stairs, knowing that she would later think about the way that she had to step over her best friend's body to do it.
In silence, the sounds of gentle weeping fill the room, and with tearful eyes, Cleo watches as Remus and Sirius hold each other, blood dripping from the former's nose, though he doesn't seem to care.
Cleo's footsteps crunch in the debris, and they both looked up. Her shoulders shook as the tears streamed down her face, but it is the bundle in her arms that forced a wretched, guttural moan of sorrow from Sirius's throat.
He stood and, with shaking hands, scooped his godson up into his arms, looking down at the red and twisted scar and the otherwise perfectly okay baby.
Sirius is the first one out the front door again, Harry carefully cradled in his arms.
Hagrid had just arrived, sent to the scene by Dumbledore himself. The half-giant was leaning against the post of the fence for a moment, catching his breath which was knocked out of him at the sight of the blackened house, when three figures emerged from the wreckage.
"Good God," Hagrid gasped.
"Hagrid," Sirius tried, but his words got caught in his throat. Harry was still crying, and outside, the sound echoed across the quiet neighborhood. "Dumbledore..."
"He's not here, he'll... he'll be waiting for me, he will," Hagrid trembled. Behind Sirius, Hagrid watched as Remus and Cleo carried each other back out into the yard, falling with the weight of what they had witnessed.
People started to come out of their houses around the neighborhood, looking around curiously. Whether it was the sound of the baby's crying or perhaps the smoke from the house, no one was quite sure what drew them out, but Hagrid knew what he had to do before the muggles started snooping.
"Sirius," he said gently. The man was staring down at his godson, his tears falling upon Harry's pajamas.
"Can I–" he choked. "Can we–please, Hagrid? Let us keep him, please," Sirius begged, pulling Harry closer to him. Behind him, Cleo watched with big, tearful eyes, her expression begging the same question, but her words failing her. "I'm his godfather. We're Harry's godparents, we're his family. He needs his family, Hagrid. Please."
Hagrid so badly wished he could've said yes. He wished so badly that he could've given Harry to them, and he remembers now how much would've changed for the better, for everyone, if he had.
But Hagrid shook his head. "I'm on strict orders from Dumbledore, Sirius. I've gotta bring him to his aunt and uncle."
Hagrid watched what little light Sirius had ever had in his eyes die that night.
"We're his aunt and uncle, Hagrid," he tried, but Hagrid shook his head again, his own tears beginning to soak his beard.
Muggles began gravitating toward the smoking house.
"Sirius, please. Give 'im to me. I promise he'll be kept good and safe, I promise ye that."
Sirius sniffled and looked down at the child in his arms, and he placed his lips upon Harry's cheek before unwillingly handing him to Hagrid, who tucked him tightly into a wrap he had around his large chest.
"I promise," Hagrid said again, and Sirius nodded, looking positively gutted. Behind him, Cleo wept on the grass.
"Take my bike, you'll be safer traveling with him," Sirius said softly. "It's at the inn down the road. Take it. I won't need it anymore."
Hagrid didn't know what that meant, and he wanted to ask, but the crowd of muggles was getting thicker on the street, and he knew he had to go.
"Stay safe, you lot. Get yourself somewhere safe," he said, knowing it was all he could say at this point, before cradling Harry in his arms and lumbering down the road toward the inn.
Sirius watched Hagrid leave with his godson until he could no longer see them, and then he turned back toward the house. The echoes of James's laughter rang in his ears, and he felt like he couldn't breathe.
Remus was pulling Cleo up from the ground, the crowd of muggles making him nervous. They needed to get away from here before the muggle police showed up.
"Cleo, we have to go," Remus whispered, and Sirius helped her stand up.
"It was Peter," she whispered, because it was all she had the strength to do. "It was Peter all along, wasn't it."
"Yes," Sirius replied, but no one will remember. "It was Peter all along."
