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The Potters and The Blacks, a Family Torn Apart
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Authors Note: ‘Praemium’ is the Latin translation for “explode.” How very original of me.


They knew it was to happen. They knew they would be murdered. They knew they would suffer the pain he had suffered in his soul. Peter had paid greatly for not having the honor of being the Potters Secret Keeper bestowed upon him before, and he was going to make sure his vengeance was dispatched for choosing that blood traitor, Sirius Black.

* * *

James Potter was worried. They had a great trial ahead of them. Protecting their only son, Harry potter.

“James,” cried Lily warningly, “You know damn fine he's coming now. Do you think Sirius is safe?”

James looked at her. He knew his dearest friend would not betray him. He sighed heavily.
“Lily, don't fret. Sirius knows i trust him with my life. We wouldn't dare betray me. He knows if I lived, I'd hex the hair right off his head.”

Lily pursed her lips, willing herself not to laugh, given the situation. Why, at this moment was she tempted to laugh? The stress of the past few weeks had done nothing but wind her up, and not even James's pathetic attempt at cooking had brought her down from her high strung cloud of denial.

A sudden flash of brilliant green light flooded Godric’s Hollow. Lily looked up from nursing Harry, her eyes wild with fear.

“James! You cannot ignore it, he’s here!”

“I know Lily, do not fear! Take Harry upstairs to the nursery, wait for me there,” trembled James. His voice wavered, but even little Harry could sense the panic in his voice as he said these words.

Suddenly, a sparkle of light came through the front door.
“Alohomora,” muttered the approacher.

James stood there waiting, gripping his wand, his fingers working their way around the sturdy wooden shaft. Voldemort could take his life, his heart, his talent, his house, for Christ’s sake, but none could take the overwhelming love he felt for his family. He would defend them to the end if he thought he had a chance. And, he did.

They struggled, but in the end the battle settled in a flash of green luminescent light.

* * *

Upstairs Lily clutched Harry tightly, and uttered a great sob, her tears landing in Harry’s jet black hair. How could he do such a thing? The evil that had consumed that young, handsome, brilliant man had been completely wasted away by an intense dislike for those not of pure blood. He felt no pain as he slaughtered hundred’s of unworthy people.

The nursery door burst open in a sparkle of light. Lord Voldemort’s murderous red eyes searched the room. Ah yes, there she was, he thought maliciously. In the corner, grasping the child tightly.

“How dare you, you evil bastard, " she spat viciously, drawing Harry closer to her chest. The love of her life, dead. She wished it hadn't taken so long for her to respond, head strong teenager she was. They could have had so many more years together...

“Stand aside girl,” he demanded, raising his wand.

“No! Take me instead,” cried Lily, caressing her son’s hair for what she knew to be the last time.

“I said stand aside, you silly girl!”

A merciless phrase was muttered. Lily opened her mouth to yell in vain, but the words where whipped from her mouth by the rush of air speeding towards her. Lily Potter lay silent on the ground, and still clutched in her cold, dead hands the baby.

“Harry Potter,” Voldemort hissed. “You were supposed to be my downfall, boy. But it seems the tables have turned, and it is you who shall meet their downfall in me, Lord Voldemort.”

He loathed this baby, and its cold, dead Mudblood mother. He would easily dispose of this defenseless gurgling baby. He raised his wand and near shouted the words in an extravagant show of finality.

“ Avada Kedavra! ”

An adult was pointing a slim stick of wood at his forehead, and yet he knew not what he had done wrong. An excruciatingly bright green light flooded the room, blinding Harry and the last thing he knew was a rushing sound and a harrowing sear of pain across his forehead. He heard a high, cold cruel laugh, unknowingly one that would haunt his teenage dreams.

Lord Voldemort’s laughed stopped. The inhuman eyes opened wide. The spell was rebounding upon him! What was this magic? An enraged cry filled the room as pain beyond pain filled his body. An unearthly scream echoed through the Hollow. The house was ignited in flames, and slowly collapsed under its own weight as the supports inside were licked with flames and snapped.

* * *

Young Sirius Black arrived at the scene, petrified; his face white, his knuckles clenched around the motor bike handles even whiter.

A world of different emotions ran through his mind. Confusion, fury, hatred, and then despair, for his very best friend in the world was gone. He had heard whispers minutes earlier, about the Potters, whispers about the Potters and their son Harry, his godson.

A huge shadow cast over Sirius in the light of the fire. It was Rebeus Hagrid. He looked a picture of grief, shaking all over. Hagrid bent over him, and Sirius saw a mass of blankets in his arms, in which a little sleeping Harry lay peacefully.

“Give him to me, Hagrid, I’m his godfather. It would be one of James’ and Lily’s last wishes for me to be his caregiver, you know that,” Sirius said emptily. The mischievous spark about him seemed to have vanished. James was dead, as was he, inside.

“No,” said Hagrid firmly, placing one of his dishpan hands on Sirius’ muscular shoulder. He could feel the muscles rippling as Sirius fought an inside battle. “I’m on strict instructions from Dumbledore to deliver ‘Arry to ‘is Aunt and Uncle, terrible creatures they are.”

“Fine,” replied Sirius quietly, staring upwards into the sky. The starts seemed to be mocking him, fueling his grief. Hagrid looked at him in surprise form under his bushy eyebrows, having expected an uproar.

“Take my bike,” said Sirius definitely, the stars having goaded him into the only possible solution.
“I do not need it anymore.”

And with that he strode of into the night, his black cape swishing in the cool Halloween night breeze, a symbol of sorrow billowing out behind him. He would find Peter and make him pay…

* * *

“I can’t believe it, I simply can’t believe it!” screamed Squib Arabella Figg.

“Well, don’t just keep me in suspense; tell me what happened you idiot!” Mundungus Fletcher shouted back.

Arabella stopped short. “Well of course I can believe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named murdered the Potters, you prat!” she shouted back sharply. “It’s no surprise he went after the Potters, after all, they were one of the most prominent pure-blood families and quite powerful.”

Mundungus stared back at her, his eyes wide and disbelieving. Finally, he added in a pleading whisper, “Please, tell me he didn’t wipe out all of them, Figgy, please not all the residents of Godric’s?”

“No, of course not,” said Mrs Figg in an esperated voice, for she explained that the Potters were dead. That last sentence sunk in as she realized who little Harry’s only remaining relatives were. She had a considerable amount of inside knowledge, unfortunately.

“They’re saying that last night You-Know-Who went to the Potters home and murdered Lily and James, Oh, Lily and James!” She buried her face in her hands, unable to continue, and emitted a great sob.

“Come on Figgy,” said Mundungus, looking quite embarrassed to know her, distressed old thing that she was. He looked sideways and licked his lips. “Get a grip on yourself.”

Arabella looked up, her eyes wet. “Alright then, I’ll continue,” she said in a quivering voice. She hiccupped then continued in an uncertain voice.

“People are saying that he murdered Lily and James, then turned on young Harry and tried to do away with him too, but didn’t succeed. The curse just didn’t come to anything!
Well, that’s all I know, you know,” she added, her voice stronger, “Living in Surrey and all.” **

“Blimey!” exclaimed Mundungus, and he looked sickened at the thought of an undead person.

* * *

Peter looked triumphantly at the sky. He had done it; he had betrayed the Potters! He would be honored beyond all relief, beyond all the other death eaters. He was the one who rid the world of the Potters.

*

Sirius Black transformed into the large black dog. His stormy grey eyes searched the streets, searching for one Peter Pettigrew. He himself would pay for all the deeds against his family.

Sirius didn’t see why he was so blind to Peter’s true nature before, the clues had been staring right at him, plain as the nose in the middle of his face. Always hanging around people more powerful than he, sucking up to people who were richer and more established din the wizarding world, those of a higher intellectual standard than his own mediocre level. He also failed to miss Peter conveniently Disapparating somewhere after clutching his right forearm with a pained expression on his face. He just plainly couldn’t see how his mind had been so clouded by friendship not to come to the conclusion Peter was a death eater.

Sirius growled through his teeth and Peter’s upturned head whipped around and an astonished looked spread across his face. He turned on his heel and made to dash down a forgotten alley, but Sirius caught up and pinned his ragged pants to the ground with a single paw. Peter’s eyes widened and they acutely sharpened.

Sirius’ form elongated as he transformed back into himself and he his cracked his neck severely before lifting a shaking hand from Peter’s pants. All in one fluid movement, he had drawn his wand and had pointed it right between Peter’s eyes.

He did not notice the Muggles crowding around, whispering and pulling out their cell phones and whispering urgently into them. He cared not for the surrounding, his entire focus was on the sobbing, overgrown rat in front of him. As Sirius opened his mouth to speak, Peter’s eyes turned steely and he shouted to the night, “MORSEMODRE! ”

A great serpent erupted from behind Peter’s back, blinding Sirius as it shot up into the air and hung their eerily for the Muggles to exclaim over openly. Sirius was still wiping his watering eyes when he spun around, searching for Peter in the fug. He spotted him, and the traitor had the nerve to cry, “Lily and James, how could you Sirius?”

Sirius raised his wand again, a pounding fury in his ears. But again, Peter beat him to it.

“Praemium!”

It was utter chaos. Sirius rolled himself out of the line of fire just in time to see a deep crack spreading across the paving and gaping open to reveal the sewers below.

He saw a bald tail whip out of sight below the surface of the ruined road, before uttering a hysterical, insane laughter. His laughter echoed throughout the street, magnified a thousand times louder in his head, filling him, satisfying him.

*

Obliviators arrived at the scene questioning frightened Muggles, enquiring as to exactly what happened, the immediately wiping their memories. Gueder Caput, the Minister for Magic at the time, was accompanied by young Cornelius Fudge, whom was flanked by several Dementors. The Dementors glided forward and grabbed Sirius by the arms and started to haul him off to the Disapparating point to Azkaban. H e would be given no trial, for they were sure he was guilty on three counts of murder. They dragged him off as quiet as anything (so to speak) for he wall still laughing his head off. A life sentence in Azkaban was awarded to Black, never to see his godson again, never to see Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived …

****Issue raised on 19th March, 2006- Sirius Black. Already arrested at time of P.P death? (debunked by Mugglecast) but... Was it day time or night time? Did he go there straight after giving both Harry and his Bike to Dumbledore? Write us a review!****

A/N: Now, a few things:

** Refers to the original copy, where I had Arabella living in Godric’s Hollow. I had guessed she was a Squib, was really just a whim. It was only a draft, as I lost the actual printed form. There was a lot of grammatical corrections to be made, as an 11-year-old, I didn’t so much worry about they difference between there/their or of/off. It wasn’t a big worry, I just liked to write. [Edit] *sheepish* I also didn’t seem to care for formatting. Now I know it’s important to the structure and even the tone of the story.

So, although I left in many of the “short sentences” I was prone to in the original, I did re write parts of the story, mainly the conversation between Hagrid and Sirius, because there was a stupid amount of senseless foreshadowing, and because I felt I now know Sirius a little better, having written other fics with him in it. I also changed the ending, I thought the climax should be well, just that; the best part. In the draft, it was about half a page, full of silly little half sentences I thought back then added to suspense. Now, I know they’re just frustrating.

I hope this gives some insight to all those new readers who insist the mods are too hard. My Fan fiction (Malicious Intentions) wouldn’t be up to the standard you read today without the help from the Mods, so rejection is really just constructive criticism. Embrace it. Love it.

-Lurid.

Number of Times Submitted: 4
Moderator: Magical Maeve
Beta: Lori (OhISee)