Grim Grinning Ghosts

Prologue

It was the night of Halloween, the night of fright and candy. It was the night where children dress up and go to every door in order to gain sugary treats from doting adults. But neither the parents nor the children realized that they were missing a house, and the family inside that house will not have known what would happen in that house that very night. The house at Godric's Hollow was blissfully unaware of the significance of Halloween, the significance of the night that brings the living world and the dead world closer than any other day.

Someone else, however, did know.

A crack was heard in the dead of the night, and a single man cloaked in black stood where there was nothing before. He glanced up at the empty space in front of him, a decrepit yard with tall grass and teeming with vermin. A cruel smile graced his lips as he took a scrap of parchment with an address written in scratchy handwriting. When the man finished reading the short note, he looked up to see that a homey looking cottage had replaced the deserted lot that was there before. Absentmindedly throwing the parchment away, he prowled up to now exposed house of the Potters, the note burning to ashes on the street.

Voldemort was not stupid, the Prophecy spoke of a child born to destroy him. If he were to continue to live immortally, then the boy of the Prophecy, Harry James Potter, must be disposed of. And tonight was the night to kill the boy, when the magic hummed with a deathly light. The wards were batted away without much effort, and Voldemort swiftly blasted open the cottage door. There, James Potter fell to Death's grip, and was taken away to be greeted by those who passed on. Voldemort climbed the stairs to the nursery, where the Muggleborn Lily Potter-Evans pleaded for him to not kill her child. Hesitating because of the plea from Severus to spare the girl, Voldemort lowered his wand a fraction. He contemplated on killing her, but then he saw a small black mark on the child's forehead.

It was the rune 'sig' for victory, and at once Voldemort realized that the mudblood was going to sacrifice herself to save her child. The love of a mother was the one thing lost little Tom never had, and that magic would utterly destroy him. All at once, everything became clear as to HOW the boy was to defeat him.

With a flick of his wand, Voldemort sent a Stunner on the girl, knocking her out. Now unconscious, she would not be able to complete the sacrifice, as the rune would require valiant blood spilled. Two words and a flash of green light later, and Lily's spirit left to greet her husband. However, what Voldemort did NOT know was that because of the closeness of the worlds on that night, Lily's spirit lingered above her son before she left, and placed a kiss on her son.

Not knowing what had happened, Voldemort triumphantly lifted his wand to the baby, who was silently watching the entire ordeal, his killing curse eyes wide with fear.

"Avada Kedavra." The Dark Lord whispered before the emerald light hit the child, along with a piece of his own soul, which buried itself inside the new curse scar that Harry had gained. The force of another soul split destroyed Voldemort's body, leaving only a cloak on the floor.

Little Harry watched the figure disappear and a stick fall on top of him. Holding tightly to it, the baby snuggled into the blankets he was swaddled in, and by the time someone arrived to see the wreck that was the Potter Cottage, Voldemort's wand was safely tucked inside his blanket, away from sight.

And that was the first time Harry Potter was killed on Halloween, but because of his mother's sacrifice, he was given another chance.

---___---

Albus Dumbledore looked at the carnage that was previously the Potter family home, holding the newly appointed Boy-Who- Lived in his arms, waiting for Hagrid to arrive. His blue eyes devoid of any twinkle, he gazed sadly at Harry, mourning for what was to become of the child. Voldemort going after Harry marked them as equals, and now little Harry was truly the child of the Prophecy. From the amount of magic left in the nursery, it was entirely possible that Lily had done a blood sacrifice before she died. Dumbledore knew that this sacrifice may be the key to defeating Voldemort once and for all, so he had owled Hagrid to help take the child to Lily's only living relative – Petunia Dursley.

The rumble of a motorcycle snapped Albus out of his thoughts, and kindly greeted the giant (well, half-giant actually) of a man riding it.

"Greetings Rubeus. Unfortunately we don't have much time until the Aurors arrive. Take Harry to Number Four Privet Drive in Surrey at once. I will be there waiting for you." Dumbledore carefully handed the small child over to Hagrid before disaperating with a 'pop'. Hagrid held the baby as carefully as possible and then rode off above the houses, headed for Number Four Privet Drive, leaving the destroyed house for the Aurors to take care of.

When he got to the Dursley abode, Dumbledore was indeed waiting for him, along with a stern looking woman in a green cloak.

"Good evening, Rubeus."

"'ello McGonagall, jus' 'ere ter drop 'arry off." Hagrid gave baby Harry to McGonagall and she carefully brushed his hair away to show his scar.

"He will have that scar forever." Dumbledore soberly said. He then conjured a basket and took a letter out of his pocket. Placing Harry inside the basket and placing the note on top, Dumbledore quietly left Number 4, Privet Drive with a soft 'pop'. Hagrid rode away on Sirius Black's motorcycle, with the intention of returning it to the distraught man. Minerva, however, stayed behind.

She stared sorrowfully down at baby Harry, her cat instincts going haywire. This child was an innocent little boy, and she had seen how horrible those muggle relatives of his were. Something inside her told her to take the child and put him in a better home, somewhere far away from this house. But she knew that if she did, then the Headmaster would be irate with her. Minerva sighed, and squashed down her cat instincts. Harry would be fine, she told herself, he would be safe with in the blood wards. Giving one last glance back at the sleeping child, McGonagall turned on her heel and dissaperated.

Nobody knew just how right her cat instincts were, and when they finally did, it was far too late. Because there were no blood wards, as Lily was unable to perform the ritual. But one could argue that what baby Harry was given was far more powerful.