Death was such a complicated thing, and it did not get easier with time. Harry knew this, and felt each and every version of his parents dying. No matter how many times it happened, he still ached.
'If only this was possible to prevent,' the child groused inwardly.
He had actually tried more than one hundred separate times to save them. Each time they still died, and each time Harry felt more helpless. More inhuman.
'They die over and over, while I live on again and again.'
His heart hurt, and he didn't particularly feel festive as Halloween approached. Lily was decorating the house with muggle and magical decorations. She had even come up with a plan to make a sort of in-home trick or treating for Harry, since they were all confined to the cottage and it's Fidelius Charm. A trusted adult and guard was scheduled to wait behind each cottage door. When Harry knocked, each closet or room would open to reveal a different Marauder or Order member, each holding a bowl of candy.
'It's hard to smile when I feel so low,' Harry thought, leaning across a low coffee table set up with a coloring book and large crayons. His chubby cheek was pressed flat against the cool wood, and the frown on his face was partially squashed. The coloring book he was working on was magical in nature, and the unicorn he was currently coloring would rear and prance nervously every twenty seconds; tossing it's magnificent mane, it charged across the page when he attempted to apply some sunset orange to the spiral horn.
'Death is only the beginning for me,' he admitted to himself, wax crayon poised above plain parchment. 'Pity it isn't the same for them. Always, always the same results.'
It was probably a fixed point in time, which meant that nothing he did could change it. Unfortunately, there were some cases of this. No matter the interference, the event would progress even without him interacting or encouraging the situation. His parents, Sirius, Cedric, Remus; these were all deaths he had actively fought. Regardless, each lifetime he witnessed, they died the same.
'I feel like the King in Sleeping Beauty,' Harry sighed. 'No matter how many spindles I burn, the curse still exists and comes to existence. My family is still doomed, and there's nothing a mere human can do.'
At this point, he had a small understanding of Time, Fate, and Death. All three were Principle Primordial existences. They were endless and ageless; from a time before Time existed. And all three Principles had finite laws and ideals.
If Fate destined something to happen then it was impossible to deny it. If Time agreed with Fate, then it would happen specifically without fail on a specific date or hour. If Death made an arrangement, and Fate and Time could coincide or make stakes, then that arrangement would supersede all others. In other words, if Death decreed his parents to die at 11:52 PM and both Time and Fate agreed, then they would die before the clock could tick over the two to a three.
Time often decreed that something specific happened to him, so that something would always happen, too. Time had decided that Harry was bitten by the basilisk fang in each reality, and somehow this always happened.
How this came to be was sometimes strange, such as Harry accidentally hatching a basilisk from a chicken egg beneath a toad. Or worse still, when the ancient fossilized fang of a basilisk on display in a museum had managed to break his fall. Time always got its destined end.
Fate was kinder, but just as stubbornly stuck in place. Harry was somehow always the 'One'. No matter who he was, or what lifetime be lived. Even as a koi fish, it was his interventions that saved the world from the Dark. And wasn't that convoluted?! A koi fish saved the day, without credit. This was prejudice, that's what it was.
Toddler Harry snorted. 'A bloody koi fish saved their arses,' He taunted inwardly, picturing the faces Dumbledore had made in his office. Completely dumbfounded, the wizard would likely have lost his sanity. Perhaps that was why he had thrown himself from the astronomy tower later that same evening, all whilst cackling.
Always the same but not; that version of Dumbledore was not killed by Snape or the ring's curse. Instead, he had thrown himself from the tower, much the same as he always fell in death. Head down, eyes upwards, and sprawled out helpless.
Death cared nothing for dignity, he knew.
'Tonight they die,' Harry sighed silently. His heart felt heavy, painful, but this was inevitable. Anticipation was his arch nemesis, but like the Principle Entities that controlled his existence.
In a last ditch effort to show his love, Harry did his best not to bother the adults. Behaving was difficult for a toddler, but he just managed. Somehow, he wanted to make today easier for them.
"I am telling you, he's not himself today. What if he's getting sick?" Lily was talking animately in the next room.
"We'll give him a bit of Pepper-Up at dinner. He's fine, Lils," James was telling his wife, his voice getting nearer as they spoke. No doubt he had moved closer and was now holding his wife. "He's a Potter. He'll survive this, and he'll come out on top and be amazing. At the ripe old age of one hundred and eleven he will pass gently into the next world, asleep in his bed. Loved and content with his choices."
Lily made some muffled noises, before quietly asking, "Do you really think so?"
James sighed deeply, a sound he made often when he was holding Harry's mother tight and close. A sound reserved for her, almost like he was breathing her in. Nonetheless, it was a sound Harry heard often, at least once daily.
Harry's heart throbbed painfully, and he tried to put the evening from his mind. Sure enough, the Floo activated, and several Order members reported an attack before most of the adults, save his parents, left. It was a violent call, something about a vicious and explosive attack on Diagon Alley. Voldemort himself was supposed to be in attendance.
But that wasn't true, Harry knew. It was a set up to distract the Order. In reality, although most of his Death Eaters were destroying the popular shopping district in London, currently Voldemort was heading to the Potter Cottage in Godric's Hollow. Secret and rat in hand, he was poised to come and fulfil the prophecy by killing the Potter child, having chosen a half-blood like himself.
Harry wanted it to be over already. Tears stinging his eyes, he hugged a blanket to his chest, still morosely laid across the end table.
'KaBoom!' Came the sound of the wards crumbling, a sound similar to glass breaking immediately following. The wards and intent barrier had fallen. Voldemort was here. They only had seven minutes before they could expect the Dark Lord at their actual door.
A tear slid down Harry's face, sliding across his nose and tracing a hot, salty trail to his plump cheek pressed against the wood.
Lily ran in seconds later, face paler than usual. James was hot on her heels, and as soon as he was certain that his son was carefully ensconced in his wife's arms, he hugged them both close. Pressing a kiss to Lily's upturned forehead, he gently ruffled Harry's eternally fluffy hair. Held tight in his mother's arms, Harry mewled helplessly in distress.
"You know what to do," James whispered hoarsely against his wife's soft red curls. Her hair smelled of mint and rosemary.
Lily nodded, her body moving shakily. She was afraid, but there was a fire in her green eyes. A determination to be strong shone through as she lifted her head, tipping her chin up.
"I take Harry, go upstairs and wait. After twenty minutes, if you haven't joined us, then I floo out. If I can't floo, I apparate; if I can't apparate, I use the emergency portkey in the hallway inside the circle. If at any time it feels like the situation has worsened, I am to immediately evacuate ahead of you." Her eyes blazed as she looked through her lashes at her husband. "You will survive this, so hurry up. Don't be a ridiculous Gryffindor, run if you have to. Your family needs you."
James' smile was warm and full of love. Soft hazel eyes, wide grin and youthful black curls, he looked very young. Harry was painfully reminded of how very young both his parents were.
"I finally have the most beautiful flower in all the world. My fire flower, so passionate, so brave. So smart and kind, she puts a saint to shame." His smile looked lopsided at this angle, making the man look charming and devilishly handsome. "My fire Lily has given me a home, a family. A son to carry on, and hopefully one m--"
Lily frowned and pressed a finger to his lips, shifting her grip on their son.
"We'll talk about it when you come back to us," she said firmly. "And not a moment before."
James laughed.
The next few minutes were a blur. Lily headed upstairs, holding Harry in her arms. James headed to the front door, waiting to greet their unwelcome visitor. There was loud voices, screaming, spell colors lighting up the night through the windows. The sound of furniture moving, snapping, breaking, shattering, exploding!
For a while this continued, noise rising steadily like a crescendo of destruction.
But suddenly, it was quiet. A violent sort of quiet that swallowed up all hope, leaving only fear.
Lily began to weep, shoulders shaking as she placed Harry in his playpen and threw green powder into the fireplace. There was no reaction, and Lily's expression tightened. Quickly rising to her feet, she turned and went to the playpen. Her hand holding Harry's, she waved and flicked her wand-- but instead of a magnificent 'crack!', there was a sort of grinding noise. Apparation and floo were impossible, cut off, in or out.
Sucking in a breath through her teeth, Lily hefted Harry quickly, putting him on her slender hip as she walked quickly to the door, wand out before them. She turned the knob, pulling the door open slowly as she glanced down the hallway towards the portkey and transmigration circle some distance away.
However, she immediately screamed and slammed the door closed. The Dark Lord Voldemort was walking slowly through the hallway towards them, resplendent and terrifying in robes of all black.
Lily ran deeper into the room, whispering the password to the lock on the nursery. Immediately spell chains heavily interwoven locked the room down. Now, even opening a window was impossible. It cut off their own escape, but bought time for the Order to arrive. As soon as the lockdown was activated, Dumbledore would be alerted.
Harry felt his face being pressed tightly against his mother's chest. She kissed him tenderly, keeping her lips against his black curls before more tears slid down her face, running into his hair.
Placing her son in the wooden crib James had carved with steady transfiguration when he first heard she was pregnant Lily brushed the hair back from his forehead and knelt before him.
"Mama loves you," she whispered, a tear making its way unhindered down her cheek. "Dada loves you," Lily encouraged, looking solemn and beautiful. A tragic and lovely angel. "You have to be brave now, Harry. You have to be brave."
Harry began to cry, and Lily tried to smile for him but it was watery at best.
"Ma... ma!" Harry cried, his entire being hurting. "Mama!"
Lily smiled again, a bit more realistically, but this time there was an explosion, and then the sudden cracking of the wooden door as it flew apart and off the hinges. Voldemort had cracked the lockdown.
Through the rubble and smoke stood a dark and cloaked figure. Elegantly, he stepped through the frame of the door, looking for all the world as though this was just tea. Even the dust settling onto his dark shoulders did not hinder his casual elegance.
Glowing red eyes with serpentine vertically slit pupils locked with the cautious gaze of Lily Potter.
"Stand aside, girl!" Hissed a high voice.
"No!" Cried his mother. "I won't. Take me, take me instead! But not Harry, don't touch Harry!"
"Step aside!" This was the second time life was offered to Lily Potter.
"Not Harry, take me! Just don't hurt my baby!"
His mother held firm.
"Step aside, you foolish girl!" Voldemort hissed his final warning.
"No! Please, don't take him. Not my son, not Harry. Take me!" Lily begged, eyes fierce and back straight. She was noble in a way Harry could only hope to be.
"As you wish," Voldemort sneered, and brandished his yew wand, long fingers curled around the handle. Sweeping it back, he lunged forward as though fencing, and said the words to the worst Unforgivable.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Green light shot out of his wand. Lily turned quickly, her back to her assailant, not running away but shielding, hunching down protectively above Harry.
The light hit Lily between her shoulder blades. She screamed, body jerking quickly backwards before falling down and off to the side.
Harry felt pressure behind his ears, a sudden and high pitched ringing. Buzzing and trilling loudly, the noise took precedence over everything. When it jerkily ended, Harry heard high-pitched laughter. High and cold, it mocked him like waking up from a dream into harsh reality. This nightmare was his reality.
"I will have no equal, I will rule eternal! I, who have beaten death, shall live forever and reign!"
Voldemort cackled maniacally and bowed in a mocking farce. Harry couldn't see his face, cast in shadow as it was beneath his hood, but he suspected the other was smiling and jeering at him.
"My apologies, forgive me as I have already taken so much. On a positive note, you shall never experience the life of an orphan. This is our first and last meeting, so I bid you good bye... Harry Potter..." He pulled back his arm and lunged his wand downwards, crying out, "Avada Kedavra!"
Green light raced towards Harry, but he only glanced up slowly, expression hollow. He wanted his mother to get up. He wanted James to charge in here, safe and alive. But neither of these things happened.
Harry closed his eyes, not wanting to see what was happening. Tired. So tired. He wanted to sleep, he wanted to dream. To dream of his family, laughing that summer. The way they looked. The way they smelled. The way they felt.
As the death curse rebounded, Harry closed his eyes and slept. He didn't see Voldemort disintegrate. Nor did he see Severus Snape crying over his mother's corpse. He slept through the arrival of Hagrid, and his loading onto Sirius' flying bicycle.
Tears glittering on his dark lashes, he dreamt of his birthday.
Lily twirling with James in the kitchen, her soft cream skirt flaring out like flower petals. The way the light hit her hair and turned it into brilliant red and copper. The sound of her laughter. The way she sang along to the radio, or how she always smelled like vanilla and herbs.
James swaying with his wife, hazel brown eyes full of laughter. Honey light sparkled in his eyes, eyes that only looked at his wife. The way the shadows lit up the lines of his lean face and strong jawline, drawing attention to the dimples in both cheeks, framing his wide mouth. Dark and messy curls bounced loosely on his head, a halo of shadows.
It was a beautiful memory. His parents were truly a beautiful couple. Everyone was happy...
Harry didn't wake all through the night, even when Dumbledore placed him on the Dursley's doorstep. It was only morning when Harry woke, confused and alarmed, to the shrill screaming of his Aunt.
'Ahh,' Harry inwardly sighed. 'Durzkaban hell.'