Just Like Your Mother |♡| Drarry

prologue

The night seemed undisturbed. A quiet hush blanketed the small road - an oddity for the small town. The street was stripped of life; it was a testament to the oddity that the street could be so empty, as it usually had at least one worker just off shift or drunken person stumbling home. The silence was odd but welcomed by most. Amidst the minority of those missing the footfalls, yells, conversations and purrs of engines was the Potter household. They knew what this meant, but were too reluctant to accept it. Surely there had to be some drunken fool out on All Hallows' Eve. 

The silence that should be soothing had a certain Potter father's hackles raised. Against the whispered pleadings of his wife, he dragged a stool to the door, setting up his perch for the night. Something was going to happen - he was sure of it. It was then he felt the wards getting disturbed. He was here: Lord Voldemort.

"Run, Lily!" He yells, her panicked face proving she felt it too.

"James... Please..." 

"Go. Take Harry and go!"

She reluctantly fled up the stairs. She barged her way into her sleeping son's nursery and hunted frantically for the bug-out portkey. The rattle it was hidden as was nowhere to be seen. Had James moved it? Had she moved it? She heard the door blast open. Her sobs grew more and more distressed. She heard a thump and distantly registered that that must be her husband hitting the floor: dead. Dear Merlin, her husband was dead...

The steps coming up the stairs were so soft she could barely hear them over her own cries and the gentle cooing of her sweet child behind her in his crib. She turned to press a kiss to his forehead, and she wiped the tears from his flushed cheeks.

The door creaked open.

"Stand aside, girl." His voice was rattle-y, hissing, snake-like. 

"Not Harry. Please, please not Harry - not my boy!" She finally looked at him. His features were pale and twisted. He looked as though he was a singular layer of skin stretched over a skeleton, with piercing red mixed in the brown of his eyes. His lips were pale and cracked to the point of bleeding. A single scar ran along his cheek and across the bridge of his obviously freshly broken nose. His hair, formally brown but now more grey than anything, was a wild mess. He looked insane and barely human. Lily could imagine he had once been handsome, but now he looked decrepit, mad, and on the doorstep of death.

It was the scariest thing Lily thought she may have ever seen.

"Stand aside! I won't warn you again!" Her body rattled and shook with each breath forced through her tears.

"Please... Spare my baby... Please..."

"Avada Kadavra!" A green light flashed towards the poor woman. She cut off mid-scream and folded to the floor.

She was left to lay there, face stuck in twisted fear, mouth open in a silenced scream. Her red hair tangled under her shoulders in a way that would have been painful should she still have been breathing. 

If he had been watching poor Lily's body, he would have seen a single tear slip down her cooling cheek. 

If he had not been so blinded by rage, he would have seen a gentle glow settle around the baby boy's crib.

He, however, did not.

"Avada Kadavra!" 

And all turned white.