A/n: I got bumped so I didn't get as many hits as I thought I would but..meh….anyway here is the next chapter, enjoy. Read and review, thank you.
Chapter Two
I never think of the future - it comes soon enough. Albert Einstein
James hurried down the stairs, holding three bags filled with as much clothes as they could take. He was still unsure of what to make of this Harry from the future, his son and the warning. The fear spoke within his voice scared James, much more than he'd like to have admitted. Voldemort was supposedly close on their tails and as much as he depended on the Fidelius charm before, he did not have the patience or resolve to do so now.
He had started packing first thing in the morning, but it took a long drawn out lie to Lily at the moment to get her to believe him. She was upset that he couldn't tell her the truth, but there was no way around him. He did not fully understand what was going on, or what was to happen, but he knew there was a distinct possibility that they were going to die that night. And the sound of his son's, Harry's, voice made it an impossible choice for him. He would be there for his son, telling Lily this sent her on a review of every book in their home for the protection spells they desperately needed.
"James, come quick, you've got to read this!" Lily said, yelling from up the stairs. He dropped the bags and rushed back up the stairs, in wonder of what was to come.
I0I
Harry sat nursing a cup of tea that Lupin had prepared for them. The older man had seen better days, but at the moment, he was retelling another tale of the Marauder's exploits. The fear of that night was still upon his mind as he looked down at the teacup, his image reflected upon the mucky waters.
He looked up to see Hermione laughing at something Lupin had just said. He cracked a smile, trying to not let the thoughts of the night before haunt him.
"-it was amazing," Lupin said. "I don't think Snape knew what hit with Sirius's spell throwing him upside down." Hermione laughed again, and Harry looked at her, wondering how he could ever get a friend like her. "You know, I doubt James would have turned around so much without Lily." Harry's head snapped up.
"What do you mean?" He asked, speaking for the first time.
"Well, he was a good person, but I doubt if he had not fallen for Lily, he would have done something drastic, dangerously stupid or wasted away to nothing," Lupin shook his head. "He'd have never saved Snape had it not been for Lily. As much as I miss Sirius, he and I both knew that James needed someone to keep him grounded, and despite my best efforts to help, Sirius was able to keep him off the ground, most time with plans of pranks and such. Lily however I think made him human, kept him here for everyone. Like a complement, so to speak. They were in every sense of the word soul mates. I doubt it James lived much of a life without her, he very well may not have lived……" Lupin's voice trailed off for a moment as Harry took everything. His mind was thrown back to his conversation with James. They had to make it, they just had to.
I0I
James nodded, understanding the spell that Lily was about to use. It could only be used once, and only once. And that was the problem. He needed some permanent way to protect his family. This one time deal would not end the war, not that way he wanted it too. He just wanted to be left alone. Make up his mind, he decided that if the war had not ended by the new year, to leave the wizarding world………as hard of thing as it was, to him it was the only logical choose.
"Ready love?" Lily asked. She was sitting with Harry in her arms in the middle of his room. Smiling, he knelt next to her, kissing her lightly on the forehead. She began to read out of the book, touching her wand to James's heart. He felt a burst of energy run through him, surrounding him. He smiled at her, performing the same spell upon her. He felt his "shield," for lack of a better word, grow. He could not explain it, but there was something around him and with his arm wrapped around his wife as she held their young son, he could not help but feel like things might just work out for the first time in his life.
He never felt the room rupture open with that green light, nor did he see the maddening red eyes glaring down at his family. He never saw the face of the man who was planning on killing his whole world.
Things never go as they are planned though………
I0I
Harry tapped his teacup as Lupin told another story. Shaking his head, he had the feeling of the world surrounding him. A surge of pain ran through his body as something flashed through his mind. It wasn't horrible or from Voldemort. It was peaceful almost. A flash and he saw his father, opening Christmas gifts with him and his mother. He saw his mother reading to him on his bed, holding him close as he father looked in from the doorway. He saw his parents together as they sailed upon a cruise ship. He saw his father watching him play Quidditch for the first time.
So many memories. So many things Harry had never felt before. Something was bursting inside of him, but he held it back, held it in. Did this mean his father had succeeded? That they lived? Harry still remembered what it was like without his father, without his mother, at the Dursley's. Yet now, it was as if those things never existed.
"Harry, you okay?" Lupin asked him.
"How did my father die?" Harry asked, surprising both Hermione and his professor.
"Lung cancer, when you were ten," Lupin said, looking at Harry oddly. "Are you sure you're okay?" Harry could not help but let the smile fill his face.
"Never better," Harry said, reveling in some of his new memories. Maybe things would be alright for once…………
I0I
Harry made his way back to the Common Room in silence, smiling to himself. A sense of warmth had overcome him and he could not place the source. Hermione held his hand, and he could not help but smile as she smiled at him. Something wonderful had filled him inside, something that he could not explain. His scar was still there, and his memories were still jumbled, and it finally hit him that his father was still not there with him, rather taken by cancer.
"You sure you okay?" Hermione asked as they stopped at stairs in the common room. "You seemed a bit odd today?"
"I think so," he said. "Thank you for coming with me." He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "You don't know what it means to me." He said as he pulled back. Not wanting Hermione to see his blushing face, he said his good nights and headed up to his dorm.
Climbing up into the little alcove with the window, he stared up at the northern Lights again, the mirror in his hand. His father was still dead, but he had been there for some of his life, and he could still remember his mother's hugs as she let go of him this year at Platform 3/4. But he could also remember them not being there, like he had lived that life too.
"Harry? Harry you there, chief?" James said. Harry jumped to the mirror, a smile growing larger across his face.
"Yeah, dad, I'm here," Harry said.
"You're right," James said out of breath. "We're all fine."
"I know," Harry said. "I remember you being there, but I also remember you not. It's like I've lived two lives." James's face darkened for a moment.
"I'm sorry son, that I, we couldn't be there for you," James said. Harry shook his head, smiling.
"No, you were there for me now," Harry said. An awkward silence surrounded them for a moment.
"So, tell me a bit about yourself? Got anybody?" James asked, causing him to blush.
"Yeah, kinda," Harry said, running his hand through his hair.
"Well, who is she?" James asked again with a smirk.
"Its complicated Dad," Harry said, sitting down in the alcove. "I like her; I think maybe I love her, but…."
"But what?" James said. "If you love her tell her. That what I did with you Mum, course took me about seventy times for it to work." Harry could not help but share the smirk of his father.
"Its not that simple Dad," Harry said. "She's been my best friend for almost seven years now. I don't want to risk it."
"Son, life is not worth living if you don't take some risks," James said.
"But what if those risks get the ones you love killed?" Harry asked quietly.
"What are you talking about?" James gave him a questioning look.
Harry began to slowly explain his last few years of his life at Hogwarts, from the Philosopher's Stone to the Department of Mysteries. He kept the tears at bay as he spoke of the last part, of how close he came to losing Hermione again this year. He spoke of her and Ron's, his other best friend, failed relationship. His father remained quiet through letting Harry do the most of the talking.
"Son, I don't know what to tell you. You've done all you can," James said. "Tell her. That's all I can say because its up to you." He nodded. Another awkward silence. "So….do you play Quidditch?"
"Yeah," Harry said, discreetly wiping away his tears. "Youngest player on the House team in a century."
"Really, you must have been a great Chaser," James said, smirking. Harry could not help but laugh.
"No dad, I play Seeker," Harry said. "I had a rough childhood." His face was downcast for a moment, but he tried to hid it.
"I'm sorry son, for not being there again," James said running a hand through his hair. "But I'm going to be there for you, I promise chief."
"I know dad, I know," Harry said, wiping away a tear. "Let me tell you about Quidditch, there is so much I want to tell you." Harry relaxed as they traded stories. Even in this "new" life, his Quidditch had not changed. He still was the youngest player in a century for the Hogwarts. He still was the best, and Hermione still was his best friend.
As he finished his conversations with his father, he felt relaxed, more alive then he ever felt before. Clearing his mind of anything he did not love, he fell into the calmest sleep he had for more than a decade.
I0I
There was a flash of memories in the early morning, ones he had never known before. They were not of the "new" life that he had created for himself. Nor where they from his old. They were flashes of him, in his father's arms as they passed a large box. His father wore black, as did he, still a babe of no more than three.
Harry woke up with a shook, and torn open his curtains. The woman in the box was dead, this he knew and recognized, but it was not the woman he thought. "Normal" memories were that of Hermione's funeral or death. No, this coffin held one Lily Evans Potter in its grasp.
Looking at the picture on his left, he noticed it had changed. The picture was once of both him and his parents at the age of ten, before his father died. Now the picture was just of his father and himself, though his father looked distant, and lost. Shaking his head, the memories of past flooded back to him, but in a jumbled mess. Grabbing his album of photo's now filled with pictures, he flipped through them. His early years still had his mum, but beyond the age of three and the pictures of him were with his dad only.
"No," Harry said. Breaking down in tears, he let the album fall to the floor. His mother was gone, as was his father. His parents were gone again. He barely noticed Hermione sticking her head through the dorm door, and he barely noticed her rushing to his side, knowing what was wrong before he did. All he felt was the pain of being alone disappear, if just until the sun rose…
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