Harry Potter and the Rewrite of Azkaban

Prologue

A whisper, the floating of a voice. One's secrets spilling over to the next, lapping like waves, shimmering as if they'd been shrouded in moonlight. A man's flinty voice lilted in the air.
"James and Lily Potter... Godric's Hollow."
The streets were illuminated by white LED lamps, bouncing off the leaves on the trees as the last of the birds' choir sing their final notes.
Knock... Knock... Knock... At the door of the Potters. No answer. And so, he forced his way in. Already in the corridor, James was on guard.
"Exp-"
"Avada kedavra!" One down. Two to go.
Step... Step... Step... Up the stairs. The wallpaper running under his fingers, snagging at every crevice. On the landing, to the left. A woman, singing, her infant looking up at her from the cot. Perfect. The woman looked up, horror and fear pooling into her eyes. There was a struggle, her hopeless, fickle words about love, useless, like everyone else he had killed. All her vowing to protect him, and for nothing. Two down. And the last one... The last one presented more of a challenge. Wafts of a smell, one typical of babies so young, drifted past, long enough for him to catch it. Finally, this chance was his. It never could have been easier.
"Avada kedavra!" But nothing happened. Nothing happened. Why wasn't it working? The green was flashing before his eyes, and he was feeling what everyone else did before they died, that feeling of despair, that feeling of-
No consciousness. No nothing. He was broken. He was gone.
Barely.