A/N: Thanks for reading! I love reviews (especially because I am not sure if I want this to be a oneshot or continue it, so if you have any suggestions, please review!)

Disclaimer: I don't own HP! If only...


Harry stood there in disbelief. Only a few hours ago he had gone to a funeral for a person who now stood before him, alive and well. And if that alone wasn't enough to shock him, the fact that his parents, his dead parents were now standing only a few feet away from him, seemingly alive. He just couldn't believe it.

"Harry?" His mother asked tentatively, reaching out to stroke her teenaged sons cheek.

Harry backed away, "Don't touch me," He spat angrily.

His mother frowned and immediately dropped her hand back down to her side.

"You aren't my parents," Harry said, through clenched teeth, his fists balled up and the veins on his hands bright blue.

James and Lily glanced at each other. "Son," James said, in a futile attempt to calm his infuriated child down.

"Don't call me that!" Harry yelled his eyes filled with a mixture of enmity and confusion.

Then Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it at them, "You both are death eaters, aren't you?" He screeched, "You are filthy vermin." Just as he was about to flick his wrist and cast one of the unforgivable curses, he dropped to the ground.

Madame Pomfrey appeared into view. She knelt down and gave Harry a few drops of a dark blue liquid, "Sleeping Potion," She explained.

Albus Dumbledore walked in to the hospital wing. He looked over to see James and Lily entangled in each other's arms while Lily sobbed deeply.

"I take it that Harry didn't respond well," Dumbledore stated, looking over at Professor McGonagall.

She sighed and went over to comfort the two, "He will come around," She said, resting a gentle hand on each of their shoulders.

The next morning Harry awoke to the bright sunlight, shining in from one of the overhead windows. His vision was blurry and he could barely make out the people that were standing before him. It took him a few seconds to locate his glasses, but when he finally got through the struggle of putting them on he tensed. Albus Dumbledore stood before him, along with three other people he had assumed were dead.

"Oh, god," Was all Harry could say, as memories of last night and his reaction to them came flooding back to him. "They must hate me," He thought despairingly to himself.

"Harry," Lily asked, kneeling down next to his bed.

With shamed filled eyes, Harry looked at her. He attempted to speak, but couldn't find his voice. Slow and steady tears dripped from his eyes and rolled down onto the tip of his nose. Cautiously, Lily lifted a shaking hand and wiped away the flow of tears. "Don't cry, Harry," She said sweetly, "Everything is all right."