Fate | Draco Malfoy

Prologue

Godric's Hollow was unusually quiet.

Outside, Halloween laughter drifted through the air, but it made a stark stop outside the Potters' house. 

Inside, James stood by the fireplace. "They're late," he spoke.

Lily looked up from the rug on which two dark headed babies played. "They're always late," she responded. 

James smiled as Eleanor tugged on Harry's hair. Harry giggled and reached for his twin sister's hand. 

"I still don't like it," James said as his smile fell. The Fidelius Charm should have made them untouchable, but a sense of unease settled nonetheless. 

Harry giggled again as he stole a wooden dragon from Eleanor's hands. As Eleanor reached for it, he held it just beyond the stretch of her short arms. 

Lily shook her head with a smile. "He gets it from you."

For just a moment, everything felt normal. Safe. 

Then, a sharp crack echoed outside the door. James froze; Lily looked up. 

James' wand was in his hand before Lily even stood up. "Take the twins," he said. "I'll go look." 

Lily didn't hesitate to scoop Lily into one arm and Eleanor into the other. She stumbled into the nursery just as she heard James shout, "Lily! Run!"

Harry began to cry as Eleanor clung tightly to her mother's chest. 

The door burst open. He stood framed by the doorway, scarlet eyes settling on the twins. 

"Stand aside, Lily," Voldemort spoke calmly. "You needn't die."

"No!" Lily shouted, turning her back. "No, my babies," she began to sob. 

The room seemed to shrink around them. Voldemort spent just a moment, head tilted, as he analyzed the twins. Two infants. One prophesied to reign alongside him. One prophesied to destroy him. 

Voldemort raised his wand, "Avada Kedavra." 

For one eternal moment, everything froze. Green light filled the room as the curse neared Harry. Until, it rebounded. The light turned back to hit Voldemort himself. His soul ripped from his body as fragments spread violently. Most pieces fled into the darkness. 

One silver slice drifted slowly across the room toward the only living vessel it could reach. The fragment buried itself inside the dark haired girl. For the first time that night, Eleanor cried. 

The room grew unnaturally cold. Her eyes flashed crimson. The darkness vanished under her skin like it never existed. Silence returned to the nursery, broken only by the sound of two wailing infants. 

Two children remained inside the cottage. 

One, The Boy Who Lived. 

The other became something nobody, not even Voldemort himself, could ever imagine.