Disclaimer: JK Rowling wouldn't do this - she likes torturing us too much.
Yes, I have run out of witty things to put in my disclaimers.
Is this allowed to run for the whole thing?
It is now.
Read the summary above for a summary (surprise, surprise), please read and REVIEW and I apologise if I write the characters badly - also, I am definitely NOT copying this storyline off anyone else.
I've never done one of these before, so I'm flying unchecked -
The wind moaned, its heavy breeze swirling through the tiny village of Godric's Hollow, soaking rain quickly following after it. Flashes of lightning ripped through the dark, cloudy sky, closely followed with booms of echoing thunder. The storm was one of the most awful ever seen on Halloween. Everyone was decisively staying indoors, so no one noticed the lightning forks getting closer and closer to the ground. Until, with a sound like a car backfiring, one hit, and a man stumbled out.
Any ordinary person would've been very confused by the appearance of the man - he was dressed in a long, coat-like object that was tatty and frayed. Underneath he had on a simple shirt, although dirty, and black trousers. He was quite tall, and had well defined muscles, evidence of several years playing sports. His jet black hair was ruffled and unkempt, and his hazel eyes were hidden behind Windsor glasses. His face was frozen in a look of bewilderment and hurt as he gazed upon the wrecked house he stood in front of.
"Lily… Harry… no…" he muttered, falling to his knees in the manner of a man who'd lost it all. And, in a way, he had. "My Lily… my darling… my beautiful son… I'm so sorry." The man stayed that way for a long time, heedless of the pouring rain, and the thunder and lightning. He was absorbed in all-consuming grief. It wasn't until bells in the nearby church signaled it was one in the morning before he was disturbed. Looking up at the clock, James Potter mumbled under his breath, "I've got to see Dumbledore," before disapparating with a loud crack.
James stumbled back into the Forbidden Forest, right next to the Hogwarts grounds. He shook his head to clear his thoughts - Apparation always made his head spin - and set off. He sidled into the Entrance Hall, and headed up to Dumbledore's office, not pausing to consider his surroundings. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the stone guardian, having no idea of the password.
"Uh… Ice Mice? Nope. Cockroach Cluster? Nope. Erm, what were those Muggle sweets Lily said he liked?" James felt the grief roar up inside of him at the thought of Lily and pushed it quickly back down in case he was overcome like at Godric's Hollow. "Sherbet, er, Strawberries? No, that's not it…"
"Mr Potter? You have no reason to be here. You're meant to be with Mr Weasley and Ms Granger at Grimmauld may have been just released from a hearing, but it's hardly the right time to talk to Professor Dumbledore. Students are not permitted at Hogwarts over the summer!" James smiled thinly to himself, as he turned slowly around. The one and only Professor McGonagall, appearing in every single time of need.
"Minnie, you should know by now that I am no longer a student - or are you simply not keen on letting me go?" McGonagall's books dropped to the floor with a crash, and she gaped like a fish at James. Her face was steadily whitening. James was rather confused by this.
"What's up, Minnie? You look like you've seen a ghost." His words did not soothe the professor - in fact, she looked worse. Then she stepped up to the statue and pronounced in a quavering voice, "Rock Cakes." James shook his head and followed his clearly terrified ex-teacher up the winding stairs that led to the Headmaster's office. He couldn't work out why McGonagall was so petrified - or, in fact, why she seemed a lot older than the last time he'd seen her. He was fairly sure that she had less lines on her face, and her hair had been less grey. Suddenly, they reached the top of the stairs, and McGonagall knocked smartly on the door. James couldn't help but notice her hands were shaking.
"Come in," called the pleasant voice of Dumbledore. McGonagall entered.
"Albus, look who I've found lurking outside your office." Her voice was clearly suppressing emotion of some sort as she beckoned James into the office, her eyes overbright, and her lips pressed together. As soon as Dumbledore caught sight of James, weary and dirty as he was, the previously standing man sat down heavily into his chair.
"No… this is impossible." McGonagall had hid her face behind a shaking hand, and Dumbledore had the air of a man whose knowledge of the world had been shattered. James realised it was a good time to press his point - the whole reason he'd come.
"Dumbledore, Lily and Harry are dead. You probably have guessed by now - why else would I turn up on your doorstep? Anyway, I saw the house. It's been blown to bits. I-" He stopped as Dumbledore raised a trembling hand.
"James, what was Lily's reaction to hearing the prophecy?" James knotted his eyebrows together. Why was Dumbledore asking this? But he decided to humour the old man.
"She said, 'That dirty son of a snake is never coming near my family.',if I remember correctly. But I don't see why-" He was interrupted again by Dumbledore, who turned to McGonagall.
"Only James, Frank, Alice and Lily could have known that. It's him." McGonagall was looking dissatisfied, and both teachers were ignoring James, who was stuck in a growing state of confusion.
"What about Pettigrew?" James clenched his teeth when he heard Peter's name. He would deal with that lowlife traitor at a later date. Meanwhile Dumbledore shook his head, oblivious to James's reaction.
"We told Peter, Remus and Sirius about it at a later date. Now, Minerva, if you could set James up in the hospital wing, I think we shall talk to the current inhabitants of No. 12, Grimmauld Place, tomorrow, about the turn of events." McGonagall nodded. James looked at his hands and saw they were covered in scratches, and imagined his head to look the same (he had walked through the Forbidden Forest) but dismissed them as minor injuries. He'd had worse. It was time to act on his muddled thoughts.
"Dumbledore, what in Merlin's name is going on?" Dumbledore just looked at him sadly.
"James, what do you think the year is?" James shrugged.
"That's easy - 1981." McGonagall looked like she was about to cry again, and Dumbledore gazed at him with those startlingly blue, penetrating eyes.
"It's 1995, James. You've been dead for 14 years."
OOOOH!
I feel a long wait coming on - dodges Bat-bogey hex - I'm kidding!
Next time, Dumbledore interrupts the festivities of No. 12 Grimmauld Place - owing to the fact Harry got off - with the news about James. I can't wait to write it!
Please tell me what you think about the story so far - please review, and I'll try to update as soon as I can!
Fangirl0103
