Disclaimer: I do not own Mr. Potter or any other recognizable character in this story. They all belong to Mrs. Rowling, who I would dearly love to hug for her inspiration to psychotic 13 year old girls. Stitch and Lilo also belong to Disney and their respectful owners.

New Impression/Twists, Old Idea: Harry Potter, an aspiring twelve year old writer, has already published 7 books with the help of his single mother, Lily, and lonely godfather, Remus. While looking through an old dictionary he'd been given at primary school, Harry gains an idea for his new book. An autobiography of his life, each chapter themed by a hefty word. It also seems that fate intends to help this young boy with his work, sending his dead-beat father and 2nd runaway godfather back to he, Remus, and Lily's stone door step.

Okay, I realized most of my fics were horrible, yet I was too lazy to take them down. I hope you'll enjoy this one, and I do intend to continue it. If I don't, the update will come within 3 days of that date if I can help it (aka computer problems, viruses, sicknesses, family excuses, etc.), this is my first Harry Potter fic. Please feel pity for me, it's 1:20 am where I live right now, and I'm dealing with my three annoying cousins, who won't go to sleep! If I make any errors, feel free to tell me. I do not have a beta, I self-check everything.

After reading several fics and writing an unpublished mass, this is an intention of mine. In return, I ask that you send me reviews.

(Btw, this is the first chapter, so no big letter here, and not chapter two either. I might be busy coming the next week, due to key board problems, but I shouldn't be late to update. If I am, you know why. Any extra L's can be blamed on my laptop.)

PLEASE CRITQUE ME, NOT FLAME OR MINDLESS BANTER, BUT ACTUAL CRITIQUE. If you flame me nicely, I will give you a cyber cookie and try to satisfy you. And now I bow to you, and allow the story to begin!

Harry sighed at the kitchen table, having gotten up at 6:03 am to write his new book with inspiration from his dream. He knew he was desperate, as he looked at the clock flashing in red numbers '6:32 AM', but he couldn't help it. This Writer's Block was killing him.

He slumped in the simple wooden chair, his brand new computer letting breathy sighs and gasps of air as his head lolled onto his limply crossed arms. Summer of 2010, nearly a month from his 13th birthday, and he still had no idea what to write. As he had first peered at the white screen bordered for typing, the dream was easily cast aside, vanishing to smoke.

It was stupid, he thought, nearly half a year since his last novel (which had raked in millions, a best-seller is 6 languages), and still his mind stayed blank. Oh, he'd had ideas, oh yes.

Several of them, all supposed chapters and such, only to become half-hearted drabbles on fictional sites. He'd watched several movies and gained inspiration, but it all fell through. Nothing was as good as his old books. When he'd wrote them, he'd barely looked up from the screen, enthralled in his tales, let alone stood up long enough to learn and (not to mention) cast a successful spell.

With a sigh, Harry stood from the eternally blank computer screen, making his way to the nice stove. He continued on, throwing the butter thickly on the pan, preparing the cheese sandwiches, then frying them deliciously.

At 7:09 am on the clock, Harry collapsed onto his wooden chair, burying his slightly greasy fingers in his hair with a suffering sigh. This Writer's Block was killing him!

"Baby, calm down, you've got all the time in the world to write a book," Lily said softly, her bare feet making gentle slapping sounds on the tiles. She placed her fingers on his messy mop of black hair, running her fingers through it gently.

For being the mother to a twelve-year-old national-sensational writer, Lily Evans knew just what to say to her son. Harry leaned into his mother's inviting touch, enjoying the gentle massaging to his aching brain, namely through his scalp.

"I love you, Mum," Harry croaked softly, feeling sleepy. After all, he'd jumped out of bed half-awake, inspired by a dream of pudding and mashed potatoes, then stayed awake for an hour or two, just thinking.

"Go to bed, love," Lily said softly, glancing at the clock. "Your inspiration will come with the sun, baby." she said wisely, petting her son.

Harry leaned away reluctantly, going through the process of shutting his computer off, finishing relatively quick.

"Later, Mum," he said sleepily, leaning into her hug and kiss to his forehead, before ushering him to his wild-looking bed. "Love ya," he said, very nearly asleep before his head hit the pillow.

"Night, baby," Lily chuckled, patting his leg as she pulled the covers over him, hearing the soft snores.

"Love ya, too," she whispered tenderly, turning to tip-toe out the room when a certain photo album got her attention.

It was dusty and worn, the only fresh marks from this decade were the careless sweep of child-like fingers at the openings where the holder would take it up. With a frown, glancing in her little son's direction, she gently took up the old album.

She flopped the old thing open, hearing the groan of the spine as she fanned its dusty breath from her face. Lily peered down, tears welling in her eyes as she spotted the happy picture of herself, laughing happily in arms of a man she long again denied knowing, event though it was clear how he was related to her little family.

The man was James Potter, laughing and holding her tight in the picture, and he was very clearly the runaway father to her precious young son; Harry was his miniature. How he could forsake the child that looked so much like him the day the baby was born stumped Lily, and she could feel the tears welling with that thought. It di-

"Ohana means 'family.' And family means 'no one gets left behind.'" The small voice startled her, her eyes darting to Harry, but he wasn't the source. Second guess, the TV. There was a little Lilo, showing Stitch a picture of some sort. "Or forgotten. You can leave, but I'll remember you. I remember everyone that leaves." Lilo looked at the photo.

Lily darted to the TV, shutting it off quickly as Harry turned in his sleep, though he wasn't the reason. Lily could not suppress the quote that sprang free in her mind, in Harry's childish voice.

"Ohana means 'family'. Family means no one gets left behind, or forgotten. Never forgotten." It was true. Lily Evans would never forget James Potter, father to their son Harry, for as long as she lived.

Sweet and cliche, huh? Well, that's my new story! Please review, no stupidity please! Happy (soon to be) Fourth of July! (Assuming you celebrate this holiday.)

Love ya lots,

Amber (Kohaku Lynn)!