The Flashing of a Lifetime

The Flashing of a Lifetime

Prologue

James Potter frowned as he bent over the Daily Prophet, his round glasses slid down his face as he read. He hardly noticed as his eyes inched over the inside page, a continuance from the front page, and the frown on his youthful face seemed to deepen with every word.

"Would you listen to this?" James called into the living room from his seat at the kitchen table. He read aloud the article, which was concerning the actions of the Order the night before, and grew angrier and more bitter as he read. When he finished, he flipped the page and let out an anguished groan. "And there's more!"

"All right, that's enough," Lily said, coming into the dining room and taking the paper. The baby on her hip was tugging at a handful of her long red hair but Lily didn't notice. "Why do you bother getting so worked up about this? It isn't what we're missing, it's what they're getting accomplished that counts."

"That's doesn't mean I can't hate them for getting to accomplish it without me," James replied in a much less harsh tone when he glanced up and saw the only two things in his life that kept him from going mad from longing to be with the Order again. He stood up and took Harry, who had only recently turned one, into his arms.

"You always were a very spiteful man, Potter," Lily said playfully, aware that though her husband would rather their son's safety than all the adventurous excursions in the world, "quick to resent people, slow to forgive."

She smiled as Harry made a grab for James' glasses, smudging them with his chubby infant fingers and bending the arms.

"Look who's talking, Miss Wouldn't Even Give Me The Time Of Day Til Seventh Year," James retorted, catching onto the teasing despite his gloomy mood and feeling of distinct segregation.

Lily chose not to regard the previous statement and opened the newspaper to the story on the Order, which featured a large picture of Mad Eye Moody and Sturgis Podmore shooting dagger looks at the photographer and trying to get out of the way.

Lily sighed and rolled up the paper. "I know what you mean, though."

"What, the fact that you treated me like scum for seven years before deciding to have a go? Or that we're missing all the fun out there while being stuck in here with Silent Bob?"

"The worst of it is, we can't even see our friends- well, except Peter, and he isn't much of a conversationalist, and I did not treat you like scum for seven years," Lily replied without looking at James. She tossed the paper onto the kitchen table and retreated back into the living room to sit in front of the fire and resume her previous activity of reading To Kill a Mockingbird for the tenth time.

It was windy outside; the branches of a nearby tree tapped continuously against the large front window and the muffled sound of the wind rushing through the leaves could be heard in extreme silence.

James followed her but remained standing, bouncing Harry on his hip so that when Harry made a sound, his nonsensical baby talk came out sounding like it would had he been riding a bike on a bumpy road.

"Yeah, you're right, Peter isn't good for news or a laugh, but after a month of no other people in the house I'm glad to see him; he brings the Prophet, at least.

Peter had also brought a few other things with him when he had arrived that morning: the usual groceries, books from Flourish and Blotts for Lily, and diapers for Harry. While magic wasn't a definite 'no no' while in hiding, it was certainly discouraged, as tracking magic wasn't difficult if one desired to do so, and the Potters weren't taking any chances. Therefore, as James adamantly refused to go anywhere near Harry's dirty diapers without a wand, the task had been brought manually upon Lily, who didn't mind as much as one would think. As skilled as she was with a wand, Lily didn't quite enjoy using one for a task such as that; levitating dirty diapers, to her, just wasn't right.

"And if Sirius hadn't been so difficult it'd be him we'd be seeing every week." With the air of one suddenly extremely frustrated, yet with the gentleness surprising of someone so strong, James threw Harry up in the air then caught him above his head.

Lily smiled as Harry threw James' glasses to the floor in a fit of laughter.

James laughed too, and made a game of it. It was good to see him laughing- isolation was not falling well upon the oh-so-sociable James Potter.

Not that Lily thought it was a barrel of laughs, but she was a bit more tolerant of the constant quietness- though she still expected Sirius to Apparate out of nowhere with some wild present for Harry, singing at the top of his voice or announcing some radical news usually concerning only him.

She also missed Remus, the sensible one, the one she could talk to when isolation was becoming too much. Not that she couldn't talk to James, but there were times when he seemed so far away... He had been so devoted to the Order. Well, she had been too, but when Harry was born it suddenly seemed to matter whether they lived or died, whether it was righteous or not. As parents, the two realized that they could no longer live life dangerously. They had to be careful.

And so that is why, when the Order began to disappear, Lily and James decided to hide. They had already had a few (three, to be exact) very close brushes with Voldemort and didn't care for another. Not when they had Harry. Not only that, but there was a warning. Dumbledore seemed to know but would not tell them more than subtle hints. Something concerning Harry. Something serious. James had tried valiantly to force it out of the old man, but to no avail. Dumbledore simply said it wasn't something they needed to know.

Lily had a vague suspicion that it was a case of them not wanting to know rather than needing, but didn't pry. That was James' job.

Nevertheless, Dumbledore insisted, that it was in their best interest that they go into hiding.

Casting the Fidelius Charm would be their best bet, Dumbledore had told James. He offered to keep their secret for them, but James, no doubt still sore from Dumbledore's act of secrecy, politely declined. Sirius would do the job. Sirius could be trusted.

And despite Dumbledore's subtle protests, Sirius was offered the job as Secret Keeper.

James' best man, friend, and Godfather to Harry. Of course, he accepted. He was honoured, but Sirius Black being Sirius Black, would never admit it, though you could see it in his eyes whenever the topic was brought up that he felt the same way about this as he felt about being appointed Harry's guardian.

And so the Potters prepared to undergo their magical concealment. They moved from their latest hiding place to a dank, lonely little cottage in the Muggle countryside.

The move was very quick; only necessities were to be brought, as the little cabin was already furnished with an overstuffed and moth-eaten sofa, a lumpy, slightly crooked bed and a rough, uneven table in the kitchen. This meant they had to leave heirlooms, and memorabilia that James in particular thought very valuable, such as his parents old wardrobe, huge, beautifully carved and made of fine English Oak. He fought gallantly to be able to bring it, but when Lily gently told him they had no room in the cabin for such a large wardrobe, and unless he would rather Harry sleep in a drawer than a crib they had no choice, James reluctantly gave in.

When they arrived by broom, as Harry was too young to Apparate, portkey or even floo (the spinning was dangerous for someone his age), they had looked up with surprise at the tiny, misshapen cabin. They unloaded their baggage and prepared to cast the charm for the next day.

That night, back in the latest hiding place that had only recently proved discovered, their house decidedly empty and bare, Sirius had showed up at the doorstep.

He seemed to have been drinking, but as James and Lily had seen him at his very worst, it couldn't have been very much. They invited him inside and into the living room, where they were all spending the night. His eyes on a sleeping Harry in the corner of the room the entire time, Sirius explained that he couldn't be their Secret Keeper. When Lily and James heard this they, of course, objected, but Sirius was adamant about his decision.

"Look, it isn't that I don't want to Keep for you, I do! But you know what I think about Lupin, and if I'm right, Voldemort probably knows about this whole thing already. And when he comes after me, which he will," Sirius had added to Lily's upcoming protest, "I... I can't guarantee I'll be able to keep your secret."

"But we trust you, Sirius. We know you 'would rather die than betray your red headed hottie and drinking buddy'- that is what you said, isn't it?" Lily said gently.

"It's not that, Lily. There's certain things he could do to make me talk, and, well, you know what happened to those guys from the Order. The thing is, I'd rather die than betray you three, but I'm not as strong as I look. Please, just hear me out and get someone else. I've had an idea. Get Peter to do it. Voldemort would never expect that, and we'll switch in private, without telling anyone. Not Dumbledore, not Lupin. It's totally safe."

"It sounds like you've got this all figured out," James had said quietly.

"It's perfect, Prongs. I can't stay on as your Secret Keeper. I wish I could," he had added with a quick glance into the corner where Harry lay on a large cushion, fast asleep, "but I can't. I knew it was fishy when Lupin asked me how you're fairing with country life. He knows, I told myself. We just can't take chances."

"You're not telling me you still think Remus is on their side?" Lily had asked. She really didn't know much about why Sirius thought this, but something told her that he had his reasons- it couldn't be the Lycanthropy, Sirius wasn't into that sort of discrimination, it had to be something else. It was much more the fact that Lily liked Remus. Even back in fifth year, he had always been more composed, more practical. She didn't want to believe it.

"All I know is that someone keeps telling Voldemort about everything that goes on here, and Peter agrees with me, and so it has to be Remus; he's the only one who knows about this stuff besides Peter, me and Dumbledore. Unless you guys are the spies," he had added, trying to wipe the look of apprehension off Lily's face.

It was true though. The Potters had been trying to lose Voldemort for a few months now; moving from place to place. They even resorted to staying a week at Hogwarts, though James wasn't too keen on staying in the same vicinity as Snape for all the safety in the world. It was then that Lily and James missed their home in Godric's Hollow more than ever. They had lived there since their wedding, until Harry had been born. That's when the trouble had begun.

"I've already spoken to Wormtail, and he said of course he'd Keep, so just say the word and it's done, ok? Stop being so damned stubborn."

When the Potters finally agreed, Sirius left. It would be all right, he reminded them, as he could come see them sometimes. He knew where the hiding place was, he just couldn't give out information, that's all. When he left, the info on their whereabouts was wiped clear from his mind.

And siphoned into Peter's.

Sirius had left that night and the Potters had moved into the little cottage the next morning.

They spent the day charming, fixing the holes in the dusty sofa, smoothing the lumps in the bed, and leveling the table legs.

Harry seemed happy enough sitting in the corner with his building blocks, though he preferred to throw them around rather than build; there was something about the way they flew through the air.

Peter stopped by later in the day, looking around anywhere but Harry's corner. He accepted a cup of tea from Lily and sat at the table with James.

He told them he was going into hiding too, at Sirius' insistence. In fact, Sirius had set up a place for him where he could stay safely.

He'd bring them food when he could, and anything else they needed. As far as he knew, Lupin had no idea where they were; he still thought Sirius was the Secret Keeper.

This relieved and at the same time agitated Lily. Remus had always been kind, subdued, even, but always knowing right from wrong. She just couldn't imagine him becoming a servant to Voldemort- to want to try and kill his friends. But, the evidence shone through, clear as crystal, that someone who knew their every move and thought was telling Voldemort everything.

"What are you thinking?" James set Harry down on the hearth rug in among his towers of levitating blocks and sat down next to his wife.

She always seemed to be lost in thought these days, and at times James felt at fault.

She didn't deserve this. Not this life. Neither did Harry. Although Lily had been extremely adamant about joining the Order ("I'm not a cute little girl, James, I can take care of myself!" "Well, I guess you can take care of yourself, but the part about you not being cute is just a lie!") and would not listen to reason, James still felt that had he not been with her, she wouldn't be in this with him.

"Remus," came the sigh. Lily set her book down and stared into the fire. The flickering flames' reflected in her startlingly green eyes, and the fire set a warm, almost golden glow on her face.

"How could he do this to us?"

James glanced down instinctively at Harry to make sure he was safe, though a barrier had long since been put up around the entire mantle to keep anyone under 26 from getting too close to the fire.

"That's just Sirius' paranoia kicking up, Lil. I don't really think this is him." James reached for her hand to comfort her, but she moved it obliviously. "I think Voldemort has other ways of finding out what we're doing. I just wish I knew what they are."

Lily didn't reply, and James tried again, taking her nearest hand in his. It was always warm, it seemed.

"Remus would just as soon do something to hurt us or Harry as Sirius would, Lily."

"I know."

"And, and we're safe here. No one knows where we are, except Peter, and no one knows where he is, except Sirius."

That didn't seem to help.

"And how long are we going to be safe here?" She raged, her voice reaching a certain pitch of abrupt hysteria. "How long until Voldemort flushes us out again? James this is getting... Ridiculous," she finished in a voice barely audible above a whisper before burying her face in her palms. It seemed to James that she had wanted to say something else, something that would confirm her desperation to leave and live their previous lives of danger and excitement. But to say 'unbearable' or 'impossible' would be going against everything Lily had been trying for twelve months to fight: loneliness, deprivation and a longing for something- anything new.

But Lily simply refused to succumb to the temptation to profess her misery.

Lily was stronger than that, and James loved her for it.

Harry had stopped playing with his toys and was now looking up at his parents with a look of mild interest mingled with confusion.

His mother so rarely shouted.

James let go of Lily's hand and put an arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer to him.

"We can't let this get to us, Lily. I know it's not how we used to live; it's nowhere close, but that doesn't mean we can't try to make the best of it!"

Lily, who so rarely showed weakness of any kind, preferring to replace any sadness or anger she felt with humour or wit, spoke then in a voice choked with frustration.

"It isn't fair to Harry." She sat up, and looked angrily into James' hazel eyes. "James, he's never been outside to play! He's never been to the park! Never seen the stars."

James, who also often attempted to make serious situations more humorous than they seemed, chanced a soft chuckle.

"Don't worry, Lily. When he goes to Hogwarts he'll see enough stars in Astronomy."

Immediately he knew he had said the wrong thing, as Lily began chewing her left cheek- a sure sign that she was steadily growing more and more aggravated.

"That isn't the point James! Besides, what if we're stuck here forever? What if Harry doesn't oh!-"

Lily gasped suddenly and covered her mouth, now looking positively beyond reason- "what if Harry never goes to Hogwarts? Oh, James! What if he can't because it's too dangerous, or, or what if Voldemort destroys it? What if-"

"That would never happen," James said firmly, now thoroughly sure that the woman he loved was losing her mind. "Dumbledore would never surrender Hogwarts- Lily you know that. And as for Harry not going, I promise... I'll assign him a pair of Security Trolls to follow him around school if I have to," he finished, trying to sound gallant and reassuring.

In reality, James would never dream of embarrassing his son like that- not when he was showing signs of being quite capable by himself. The kid was only just a year old give or take a few months and already he was tumbling around the house on two legs, many times very nearly missing a wall and almost always falling flat on his bottom. Not to mention his early fascination of his father's broomstick that made James swell with pride.

"Oh, don't be silly James," Lily sighed, shaking her head, "I highly doubt that we'll be here eleven years."

James stopped grinning valiantly and gaped at his now perfectly composed wife.

This happened all the time! Lily would get a wild, half-baked fear or worry, usually concerning Harry. James would attempt to console her by conjuring a joke or suggesting an irrational (and usually very funny) solution, only to have Lily collect herself before she realized he was joking and act as though it had been him worrying the entire time.

These events literally drove him mad.

Now, however, James was just relieved she had gathered her senses and was now smiling at him in the mischievous way that made him wonder whether or not what had happened only seconds ago really happened.

"Don't Honey, your face could freeze like that," she said, leaning forward to kiss him before standing up and heading for the kitchen, running her hand through James' hair as she passed.

Grinning, he reached around and grabbed her wrist, making her stop and look back.

"You're mental," he told her, now unable to stop smiling.

"I know you don't mean that," Lily said, wrenching her wrist away, "because what would people think, if they saw the Great James Potter married to a Basket Case?"

As he watched her retreating back to the kitchen, James called out in reply, "they'd take one look at you and say 'lucky Potter!' "

James turned back to the fire, and contented himself in watching Harry play, murmuring to himself, deeply immersed in his game since his parents now seemed to have sorted themselves out.

"Yeah, Harry, you look pretty traumatized all right," James said quietly to him, poking him gently in the back of the head so that Harry leaned backwards to see his father. When Harry saw who it was, he stood carefully, pushing on the floor to lift his legs, then turned awkwardly and grinned widely.

"Da!" He blurted, sounding absolutely delighted to hear himself.

Of course, Harry had been speaking in real words since he was six and a half months old. Only small words, usually one syllable, and only ones he had heard many times before. Still, it seemed that no one was more proud of this feat than he.

James reached down to scoop up his son when suddenly, he stopped. Something was amiss; it was too quiet.

He quickly realized what it was: the branches of the tree outside had ceased tapping the window, and the rushing of the wind had also dulled to silence.

James' brow furrowed and he stood, slowly approaching the window.

It was not only the silence that concerned him, there was a eerie feeling inside of him; he had felt it before.

"Lily," he said softly, not really expecting her to hear him. Then, a little louder, so his voice would reach the kitchen, "Lily."

"Hmm?" Lily came into the room, wiping her hands on a tea towel. "What?" The relaxed expression James had worked so hard to make slipped easily off her face. "James? What is it?"

She appeared instantly at his side, peering out the window. Her voice wavered slightly.

"Did you see something?"

James shook his head slowly. "No... Just... A feeling."

He actually felt Lily relax beside him.

"Oh. Well, a feeling isn't... Unless..."

"Look, I've felt this way before, ok? When..." James broke off, recalling certain events in the past, each concerning a considerable amount of danger.

Lily placed a gentle hand on James' arm. "I know, but that could just be the paranoia. There's absolutely no way- it would be impossible-"

"Nothing's impossible," James said shortly. "Not these days."

Lily smiled, though there was no warmth, no happiness or humor in the smile.

She stepped forward towards the window, but James grabbed her.

"Don't go too close," he warned her, his voice edged with panic.

"James, please!"

She peered out carefully, then turned around to James.

"Come on James. Just come and sit down."

Lily crossed to the sofa, expecting him to follow.

"But the quiet..." James whispered, straining to hear. It was almost as if he wished for someone to be there. Just to prove he hadn't been wrong...

"James," Lily wheedled, a hand resting on Harry's head, who had fallen asleep on the hearth rug.

James stared and listened into the darkness for another moment before sighing in relief (mingled with a pinch of disappointment).

"Maybe you're right," he muttered, turning to join Lily on the couch.

"Now c'mon," Lily encouraged, "smile, God loves you."

James smiled reluctantly, but managed "yeah, see, that Muggle overlord thing? It doesn't work for me."

Lily laughed and leaned on James' shoulder. "It never really did for me either. Not once I got my letter. My parents kept it up, though I never had to go to church with them on Holidays. I think they were afraid that I'd burn up or something."

She was telling this to cheer James up. She hated it when he got edgy; it creeped her out. What's more, his gut feelings were usually if not completely correct, frighteningly close.

James grinned lightly, his eyes now resting on Harry. He seemed to laugh less and less everytime he heard that one, she mused.

Suddenly, the tapping of the tree on the window pane resumed, causing James to jump in alarm; he'd still been listening for noise.

"It's only the wind!" Lily insisted, though now gripping James' arm, though staring past him at the window.

"No, Lily. There's something out there. I know it."

Lily didn't argue this time. She scooped a sleeping Harry up into her arms and remained seated, very stiffly, beside James, peering out from behind him at the window.

James instinctively put an arm in front of his wife and child as if to protect them, and stood slowly.

He had only gone three steps, however, before he stopped dead.

"Lily," he whispered, "He's here."

Lily felt her blood run cold. She began to tremble violently, causing Harry to wake and look around sleepily.

"It can't be-"

Suddenly, a crash from the hallway cut Lily off: the door had been blown open.

James whipped out his wand and turned to his wife.

"Lily! Take Harry and go! It's Him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

Lily shook her head mutely, unable to protest with words.

Unable to tell him she wouldn't leave him, that she loved him, she would fight with him.

But James seemed to understand, and shoved her away.

In a low voice that was sheathed with wordless love and devotion, James told her "go. Save Harry. Save our son."

Another crash. It sounded like another door, perhaps the one to the kitchen, had been burst open.

"Now!" James urged her.

Lily turned on her heel and bolted into the back hallway just as there was the crash of the living room door bursting open, followed by high-pitched laughter.

James ignored the sting of terror, the bite of hatred and fear in his very spine, and turned to face Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort surveyed James, standing straight-backed and proud, holding out his wand like a sword.

"I'm terribly sorry, Potter. I wasn't interrupting anything between you and your dear wife, was I?"

"Save it, Voldemort," James said shortly, his voice as sharp as a blade. "We both know why you're here. No point in making friendly chitchat."

Voldemort laughed softly. "The intent of my sudden calling is far from friendly, Potter. However, if it is what you wish, I will 'cut to the chase'- that is what the kids are saying these days, isn't it?"

James shivered with fear and hatred.

"You're a little behind the times, Old Man."

Then, before Voldemort could think up another nasty reply, James threw a stunning spell right at him, faster than sound.

Voldemort didn't know what hit him.

He wavered slightly, his eyes never leaving James', but the effect of the spell seemed weak. Voldemort merely had the appearance of one mildly shocked.

He recovered quicker than James could move and hissed "Crucio!"

The next moment, James was down on the floor, writhing in pain and keeping his teeth clenched against the pain. The desire to refrain from screaming was so strong; he wanted nothing less at the moment than to have Lily hear him and come running. Protecting his family was the only thing that mattered...

The curse was lifted, and James leapt to his feet, flexing his fingers and trying to control his shaking legs.

"You'll have to do better than that," James snarled, raising his wand.

"Oh really?" Voldemort asked, stepping lightly to the side in order to avoid James' next stunning spell.

"Very well... Is this to your liking?" Another flash of light toward James caused him to roll out of the way, behind the moth-eaten sofa, and shoot another stunner at his opponent.

Voldemort, after repelling the hex with his wand, sighed deeply, unable to keep a smirk from inching its way onto his face.

"I daresay you are trying... however," Voldemort raised his wand, "I cannot have you gaining an upper hand. Expelliarmus!"

James felt his wand fly from his hand and stumbled back, trying to grasp it as it flew into the fire.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

He keeled back, frustration building up inside of him, bubbling up, causing his eyes to prick...

Through stinging eyes, James saw Voldemort come to stand over him.

"I am afraid, James, that I have wasted precious time standing here and playing games. I do have other people to deal with; my Death Eaters can only do so much...I did have a lovely time, however. Do send my love to your dear parents, won't you?" He smiled liplessly, and raised his wand. "Good-bye, Potter. Avada Kedavra."

A flash of green light filled the room, and before James could think, before he could move out of the way or reply, he was hit full force by something so hard, so cold, that he instantly knew what was happening.

He was dead. Not dying, dead.

Blackness enveloped him; the green light faded away, as did Voldemort's high, cold sounds of mirth.

He was gone... He was falling away from everything. Away from Lily and Harry. He couldn't save them now...