Godric's Hollow

The Potter house was enveloped by the silent nightfall, the sounds of the outside world mingling with the breathing of little Harry. Lily held him in her arms, feeling the warmth of the sleeping boy.

The light from the streetlamps filtered through the windows, casting dancing patterns on the polished wooden floor, while Harry's toys were scattered about. But there was something in the air, a heavy feeling that made Lily's stomach twist.

She knew the Fidelius Charm was still working, and that Peter Pettigrew would be the last one Lord Voldemort would seek, Sirius was the most obvious choice, but still that feeling remained. She didn't know if it was maternal intuition or just a passing uneasiness, but as she rocked Harry, she watched the boy's serene face, and then an involuntary smile appeared on her lips. It was then that a sound cut through the night.

A knock against the door. Lily held Harry tighter in her arms, her heart racing.

She turned, her eyes searching for James, who was upstairs, checking the house's wards.

"James…" she called, her voice soft but with a hint of anxiety between her teeth.

He jumped down, one finger raised in warning in one hand and his wand in the other. James stared at her for a moment, and then there was another knock on the door.

"Who's there? Peter?" he asked, his expression serious and his eyes wide. "Sirius?"

There was silence for a moment, and then an icy voice answered from outside.

"No, James. It's me. Severus."

The mention of the name made Lily shiver. The memory of their past interactions, the bonds they once shared and the betrayal that had torn them apart, flooded her mind in an instant.

"What's he doing here?" Lily whispered from beside the door.

"I don't know," James said, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. — Stay here with Harry.

Lily nodded, a wave of anxiety washing over her. She took two steps back, moving into the room, her eyes still fixed on the door as James opened it, her body slightly tense.

The door creaked and the figure of Severus Snape appeared.

He was wrapped in a dark cloak, a simple knit that didn't look much like him except for the color. But the expression on his face was a mix of urgency and something darker that Lily couldn't quite decipher yet.

"Lily," he said in a heavy voice that made her stomach clench.

Lily clutched Harry to her chest.

"Severus, what do you want? How did you get here?" James asked, trying to remain calm, but the words came out sharper than he intended, Lily thought.

"There's no time for questions, James. He's coming," Snape whispered, his gaze sharp. The panic in his eyes made it clear there was no room for hesitation. "Peter betrayed you." You need to get out of here now.

Fear was growing inside Lily like a weed.

"What are you saying?" James asked, his voice rising.

"Lord Voldemort is coming here. He's coming because of him," Snape said, staring at the baby in Lily's arms.

The world around her seemed to stop. Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, there was no sound, only the distant sound of the wind. She looked at James, whose eyes were wide.

"What...?" James began, but Severus quickly continued.

— There's no time. You need to run.

Adrenaline surged through Lily's veins. She looked at Harry, vulnerable in her arms, and the reality of what Severus was saying settled in, weighing down on her like a rock.

"No, this can't be happening," James murmured, as if his denial could change anything.

But Severus's gaze was steady, and Lily saw the genuine concern in his dark eyes. Something inside her was hesitant to trust him, even now, but her instincts prevailed.

James took a step forward, as if ready to confront whoever was out there, but before he could say anything, he was caught off guard by Lily's howl.

"We're going," she ordered, Harry in her arms. "We need to go!" As James moved toward Severus, she took a deep breath, hugging Harry tighter to her body, as if his presence could keep her anchored in the midst of the storm.

"Where to, Severus?" she asked, her voice shaking.

— We can go to Hogwarts, there is no safer place in the world, let's go to the station. — James replied, without hesitation. Severus nodded. — Severus, are you sure about that?

Severus repeated the gesture and nodded, but his expression was darker than Lily had ever seen. His eyes, usually so deep and calculating, now shone with a red glow, as if tears were gathering there. It was a disturbing sign, a spark of emotion that broke that expression.

James, still tense, frowned and said: — You became a Death Eater, you're not just sending us into a trap, are you? — he accused, the tone of his voice heavy.

Severus shook his head, his expression contorted in pain and regret.

— I apologize, James, but now is not the time for this. — Severus said and looked out the window. — He will be here any minute.

With a single movement, Severus pulled out a beaded bag made of brown and gray fabric, decorated with small beads. He opened the bag and took out a folded cloak. The fabric of the cloak shone under the artificial light, showing a pattern that seemed to be lost in itself, like a reflection of a starless night.

"My cloak, it was with Dumbledore..." James asked confused, but Severus cut his doubt short.

"I have one too..." Severus said and handed it to James. "You must leave now. There is no more time for explanations." James looked at the cloak, then at Severus, the distrust still present in his gaze.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you helping us, Snape?" he asked, his voice low and tense.

Severus looked away and fixed his eyes on Lily, who was still holding Harry in her arms. James followed Severus' gaze and, in that instant, something seemed to untie inside him.

"You…" James began, his voice soft but full of understanding. "You still care about her, don't you?" Severus closed his eyes for a brief moment, and when he opened them, there was a sadness that pulled his face down. "Always," he murmured. James stepped forward

and, in an unexpected gesture, hugged Severus, holding him tightly.

"Thank you," James said, and that made Lily feel an unexpected warmth in her chest. He then turned to Lily and Harry.

"Let's go," James said to Lily, placing the cloak over them. "Are you coming with us?" Severus smiled and shook his head in denial.

"Someone needs to stay to serve as bait, I won't be long. I'll meet you later, I promise." Lily tried to say something but was pulled away by James.

As Severus watched from inside the house, they began to walk away into the night, hidden by the cloak and blending into the shadows of the darkness. Severus turned off the light and disappeared from view. They continued to the sidewalk, but before they could take another step, a wave of energy made the air vibrate around them.

Voldemort's figure apparated less than three steps away, his red eyes glowing brightly in the darkness.

The presence he brought was like a shadow that seemed to swallow the light around him. James froze, his fingers wrapped around Lily's shoulder, his muscles tense like the strings of a guitar about to snap.

And then Voldemort advanced towards the house. The way he moved was mesmerizing and terrifying at the same time, every step, every movement.

James and Lily held little Harry together, invisible under the cloak, but still able to feel the cold emanating from the Dark Lord. Harry was calm in his arms, oblivious to the danger that surrounded them.

Lily knew that, as long as Voldemort was there, her son's safety hung on every breath she took. With one last look between them, James began to walk away, pulling Lily and Harry away, hidden by the cloak, while Voldemort headed towards the house.

Lily's heart beat in despair as they walked away. She wished the darkness would never reach them, but in silence they walked towards the comfort of the shadows.

Voldemort raised his wand with a dismissive movement. In a short gesture he cast a spell without saying its name, just reciting it in his mind; Confringo.

The beam of light destroyed the front door, the shards of wood flying to the sides as if they were straw. The house was enveloped in silence.

Instead of finding the Potters, there was only an empty room, on the floor there were toys and strands of rope that spread everywhere, like a carpet of knots and fibers.

Voldemort thought that the rope could be part of some enchantment, but his mind could not remember any, and so he disdained that idea. This was not a house of real wizards, they were dirty blood.

"Where are they?" Voldemort murmured, his voice coming out cold between his lips. He advanced, feeling the air pass through his robes, the expectation of a meeting growing within him.

His presence seemed to shrink the room itself, and his mind raced, filled with silent euphoria. Voldemort climbed the stairs to the second floor, the floor still covered in ropes, but here the air grew warmer as he approached the corridor.

A dim light emanated from a room, and the door was ajar. He tried to hesitate, but the lust for power overshadowed his patience.

As he stepped through the doorway, a strange sensation struck the dark lord. His feet caught something. The rope. It was wrapping itself around his ankles.

Voldemort didn't have time to think, as his eyes quickly turned to the man standing before him in the room.

An unexpected sight. "Snape?" Voldemort growled irritably. He didn't understand what the Death Eater was doing here, in a place where the boy from the prophecy should be.

Voldemort tried to pull out his wand, but he felt the rope rise up his arm and tighten even more. His movements became heavy and constrictive.

A silent spell escaped his lips, but the rope didn't give way. Frustration grew inside him, and anger pulsed through his veins.

"What are you doing here?" he shouted, but his words were just a helpless echo as the rope rose, knocking him to the floor.

Then Severus pulled something from inside his coat. A bag of beads.

Voldemort didn't understand, a growing discomfort forming on his face as the strands tightened over his face, and before he could process what was happening, a transformation unfolded before his eyes. Polyjuice Potion.

The potion began to fade, revealing that this was not Severus Snape. The disguise slowly faded and a lightning-shaped scar appeared on the man's forehead. His hair was still dark, but slightly gray at the temples. His eyes turned green, deeper, surrounded by a shadow. His features hardened as he stared at Voldemort. His neck was marked by burns. And his right sleeve went limp.

He was missing an arm.

"Who... who are you?" Voldemort screamed before being completely suffocated by the rope.

But before he could ask another question, a spell crossed the room. The air seemed to stop for an instant, and the word "Imobilus!" echoed off the walls.

The magic closed around him, freezing his body in an invisible prison, but making the ropes loosen a little, he could still breathe. The man was still holding the bag of beads when he pointed to the floor and made a chair appear out of nowhere.

He sat there in front of Voldemort, his gaze fixed on his paralyzed body. Now the room was enveloped in a deep silence. The man scratched his lightning-shaped scar and spoke.

"Tom," he began, his voice low. "That's what you called yourself, isn't it?"

At that moment Voldemort's eyes shone with a mixture of fury and disbelief. "No..." Voldemort replied, his voice broken by the impotence of the spell and the rope. "My name is Lord Voldemort, and I am the most powerful wizard of all time."

The man smiled, not a smile of anger, but of compassion. "No, you are not," said the man sitting in front of him, and with another wave of his wand he created another chair. "You're just a man. A man who was caught in a trap that my friend set when she was eleven years old." said the man, raising an eyebrow. "Come on Tom, good manners must be observed."Said the man and with the wand in his left hand he turned his wrist placing the dark lord sitting in front of him. " Devil's Snare is not that difficult to create, the bad part is transporting it, so I had to follow the notes that Neville made, you need to seal the compartment so that not even a ray of light enters. In fact, I was almost late because I had to go to his house first." Said the man and took out four wands and placed them on the floor between the two. Voldemort knew those wands. They were from Rodolphus, Rabastan, Barty and Bellatrix. " After getting older I catch myself rambling sometimes, I apologize. Anyway, the hard part was transmuting the mistletoe into rope."

He let the silence drag on for a moment, watching the expression of disdain that turned into confusion on Voldemort's face.

"I was never a good student like you, Tom. Most of my time at Hogwarts was either in bed sleeping until I was late or on top of a broom. But I had some time to practice, I think McGonagall would be proud of the result," the man continued, staring at the rope on the floor. He opened the beaded bag even wider and began pulling out several objects.

First, he pulled out a locket, gleaming in the light of the room. The sight made Voldemort's stomach tighten. It was one of the Horcruxes he had created. But he didn't have time to think, because soon after the man pulled out an old glass, the cup, and then the diadem. Then came his father's ring. Each one made Tom's head weigh more than the last, the story of each one of them went through his mind but he couldn't say anything, when finally, the man pulled out Nagini's severed head.

"That..." Voldemort said with his face already drained of blood. "That's a lie..." Voldemort stammered with all the strength he still had in his body. "I would know if Nagini was dead." The man sighed, holding the snake's head in front of Tom.

"I was never very good at Occlumency either," he said, watching the expression of horror spread across Voldemort's face. "But like I told you, I had time to practice. I made you see what I wanted you to see, Tom." Voldemort's gaze went blank.

"No..." he tried to say, but his voice already sounded less threatening.

The scarred man leaned forward, his gaze fixed on him.

"Tom, I know who you are. I've seen your life." I have studied your history. You sought immortality, power, greatness, but you ended up becoming this. A shadow of what you could have been.

Silence filled the room again, and the man saw Voldemort's emotions twist, a thread of doubt creeping into the dark wizard's mind.

"It's time to face your past, Tom," the scarred man said and dragged his chair next to Voldemort's. He sat down next to him and took a small cloth bag from his pocket. He opened Voldemort's paralyzed palm and threw the contents of the bag into it; the Resurrection Stone.

In Voldemort's paralyzed hand, the stone glowed without competition, and in an instant, ghosts began to appear, figures familiar to Voldemort, each marked by the tragedy he had caused. They watched him in silence, their gazes carrying a weight he could not bear.

"You could have moved on, Tom," the man said, his voice firm. " But you couldn't. You couldn't think that there was someone as powerful as you. You couldn't conceive of the idea that the prophecy was true. You did everything to be famous. To gain power. The greatest wizard of all. I'm the other side of that coin, Tom. I understand you." The man said near Voldemort's ear. "I couldn't move on either." The man said and opened the bag of beads for the last time. From there he took out another wand and a portrait. In the image a girl was smiling, hugging a boy, both wearing Gryffindor uniforms.

" His name is Ron." The man with the scar pointed. " He comes from a pure-blood family, like my father. He was the first friend I had in this world." The man said and his eyes filled with tears. " This is Hermione. She's of dirty blood, just like you, Tom. And just like you, she's a skilled witch, the smartest I've ever met." He said and the first tear fell on his lap. "They were my friends. They died because of you. Because you weren't able to move on. You had your group, you could go out there, live your life. But your hatred ran through my world and ripped away everyone I loved. " He said and a sob came amidst the crying. " And left me alone, and empty, just like you, Tom.

The man wiped his tears and took a deep breath before continuing.

"But as I told you, we are similar, parts of the same coin, but opposite sides. You did everything you did to have power. I did everything to have them with me. Since they left, I spent every waking hour of my life thinking about tonight. Thinking about now. How I would get here. How I would trap you. How I would find the Horcruxes. Every day of the last nineteen years I spent dreaming about what tonight would be like. You wanted to be remembered, I want to be forgotten." The man said and a smile appeared before the tears. " You asked my name, do you want to know who I am, Tom? I am the reason you came here. The boy who lived."He said and whispered through clenched teeth. " My name is Harry Potter."

Tom remained still. His eyes were empty, but on his face the expression of surprise was still expressed. He tried to say something, but he no longer had the strength. Harry picked up the wand he had last pulled from the beaded bag, his deep gaze fixed on Tom.

"This is Draco's wand," Harry said, his voice echoing among the souls flying around Voldemort. "And in the future, you will kill his mother, Narcissa Malfoy. Draco died because Crabbe cast a spell he couldn't control. A dark spell, Tom. But I saw you control the cursed fire when you fought Dumbledore."

The tension in the room grew, and Harry saw a flicker of doubt in Voldemort's eyes.

"You could control fire," Harry explained, his voice rising. "Turn it into beasts, not just flames. An interesting skill." Harry said with a shrug. "It wasn't enough to defeat me in the future."

Harry stopped, taking a deep breath, and stared at the portrait of Ron and Hermione.

"She would have solved all of this in less than a month." "But it took me nineteen years," Harry said, pulling from around his neck a small hourglass clock made of polished gold metal and adorned with astrological symbols. Its two glass chambers contained golden sand that slid slowly upwards, while the chain wrapped around Harry's neck. "I gathered all the time-turners in the world. They were all broken, shattered, destroyed after the ban. But several had intact parts. The time-turner is a strange object, you know? You can't fix it using wizard magic. Only a very skilled goblin or elf could fix it. It's a good thing I had Kreacher by my side. Wizards underestimate how much an elf can learn when he's motivated to avenge his dead master. I had to promise to save Regulus too, so I arrived a little early to prepare everything. Three hundred and forty-six thousand turns so far." Harry allowed himself a brief pause.

" I'm rambling again, the cursed fire! I saw it destroying the diadem inside the room of requirement, so I didn't need the basilisk, but I still stopped by Hogwarts to see how it was doing. A scary creature at first, a powerful serpent, but like you, Tom, it's just another one. I wish you could have seen its face when I transmuted all those rats into roosters. I can still hear their crowing if I concentrate hard enough. Slowly, I entered your mind, searching for each horcrux. That was the plan, but I still needed to master the cursed fire. When I learned the patronus, there was something specific. You need a happy memory. As my godfather used to say, we are all made of light and shadow, it was difficult to channel the light so that it would complete the magic. The same happened with the cursed fire. You need to concentrate. But it's not a memory that you pull, but a desire, a will. So much time under the light made me look at the shadows wrong. When I summoned the fire, a serpent appeared from the flames. It wasn't angry, it was scared. Instead of leaving through the wand and running around the room, it came back. It was afraid of the outside world. It wrapped itself around my arm, the fire burning to the bone. That's how I lost it. I had to cut it off before it took me completely. I was told to get a prosthetic, but I still have the left one, and the lack of the right one served as a reminder to be careful. The cursed fire needs emotion, but not hate. Hatred killed Crabbe. It was something more subtle. It needed my soul. The serpent was my darkness, but it was no use. After a year I tried again. This time a fire stag came. I thought it was the right one, but I couldn't control that one either. The antlers." Harry said and rubbed the back of his hand against the burn on his neck. " I didn't think I could do it. But they wouldn't let me." Harry said looking at Ron and Hermione through the portrait. " It was then that I understood, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world."

Harry stared deep into Voldemort's eyes.

""You've lived your entire life alone, Tom. Surrounded by those you despised. I grew up surrounded by my friends, my godfather. Two different lives that came to the same place. But today you don't need to be afraid anymore, Tom, you're not alone." 

With a straight movement, Harry shook Draco's wand, and fire began to come out of its tip. Harry let go of the wand, but the fire continued to come out of it. The flames rose as he lowered his fingers until he took Voldemort's hand. As he touched it, his fingers closed and he felt the resurrection stone touch his skin.

Harry turned the stone with trembling fingers, and figures began to appear around him.

First, James and Lily, soon followed by Snape, Albus, Minerva, Fred and George. Then came Remus and Tonk, then Sirius, Neville and Luna. Finally, Hagrid appeared and only then did Ron and Hermione appear, hovering beside him.

The flames began to consume everything around them, burning not only the wall but also the ceiling. And then the fire took shape, it was no longer just flames, but something more. A bird.

A phoenix.

It flew low, burning the Horcruxes and landing on Harry's shoulder. He felt the heat enveloping his body, burning his robes, but he did not retreat. The fire covered the floor and consumed the Horcruxes one by one. With the strong light, the mistletoe came loose completely, but Voldemort remained motionless, with Harry holding his hand. The dark lord was impassive. Defeated.

"I'll finish what you started, Tom," Harry said as the fire took hold of his hair. "I'll sacrifice two half lives to get a full one," Harry said and closed his eyes. "I'll kill the boy who lived."

The flames engulfed the house in a raging fury, a firestorm. And as the structure burned, Harry and Voldemort became one with the flames, their existences fading into ashes.