Summary: Voldemort never killed Lily and James Potter. A spell freezes them in time. Voldemort's killing curse still rebounds off Harry. Peter Pettrigrew still escapes. Sirius Black still goes to Azkaban. And Remus Lupin still has the worst week of his life. But how can one small discrepancy change history? And what happens when 21-year-old James and Lily wake up 10 years later?

Pairings: Lily/James possible Sirius/Remus. The two main characters are listed as Harry and Remus but not in a romantic way.

Disclaimer: Not mine. JKR's.

Author's Note: This is probably going to be a long story. It might take me a while to get it done, but I'll try to stick with it. Reviews always help. ^_^

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CHAPTER 1: The night life fell apart

James Potter was not pleased.

"Hold still Harry. Harry, come on, hold still for Daddy. Good boy, good…Oh, oh God! Lily! Lily, he did it again. Stop stop!"

The sound of dishes in the kitchen paused, followed by footsteps climbing the stairs and finally a willowy redhead made her way into the nursery.

"James."

"Uhhh, but he did it again Lily!"

Harry giggled.

"He's a baby, James. You're changing a diaper. It happens."

James had enough sense to look somewhat abashed, scratching the back of the head before getting back to magicking the pee out of his robes.

Lily could hear him grumbling:

"James Potter, auror in training. Scourge of death eaters. This is so not dignified."

His wife raised an eyebrow and walked over to the changing table. She finished fastening the diaper and leaned down to brush noses with little Harry. With a chilly smile, in that cutesy voice reserved expressly for babies, Lily cooed.

"Now, now Harry, no peeing on Daddy or I'll never be able to convince him to do diapers again. And Mommy would be very very not happy if he tried to pull that one again. OK, sweetie?"

Her eyes narrowed.

Baby Harry's eyes widened and he turned to James. The marauder returned the child's silent plea with a wince and shrug of his shoulders.

"OK, Daddy and Harry will behave," James said with a nervous laugh. "Right Harry? Um, Daddy's going to go do the rest of the dishes now. Because he's an awesome husband like that."

James flashed a smile then darted out the door. Harry started after him, clearly wondering how his Dada could abandon him like this.

"Oh, don't look like that," Lily picked Harry up and settled him in her lap on a rocking chair. "That was just a little show for your father's sake. Mommy is not crazy. Don't you listen to a word your Uncle Sirius says."

"Pa'foo!" baby Harry clapped his hands "Pa'foo. Mooey. Pa'foo. Mooey!"

"Hush, hush, don't let your father hear that. But what about your other uncle?"

Harry frowned.

"Wwww. Waaammmmmaa. Waaamm…Pe'er"

Here Harry gave up and started pouting.

Poor Peter, Lily thought. Wormtail and Peter just weren't very baby-friendly names. Sirius, of course, had thought it was hysterical and had made it his life's mission to teach Harry how to say Wormtail.

Two months ago, before they went into hiding, Sirius had come running into the kitchen where James and Peter were sitting. His eyes gleamed and chest puffed out. He held Harry forward.

Sirius bellowed with pride: "Say it Harry. Say it for Uncle Padfoot."

"Wamf-ee."

"See! Oh my God, did you hear? Good Harry! Good Harry!"

"Goo Hawwy," the baby echoed back, bouncing excitedly in his godfather's arms.

"What exactly did he say?" Peter asked nervously, knowing it was the wrong thing to say as soon as he finished the sentence.

"Your name you twit! 'Wormy!' Didn't you hear it? Pristine! Clear as crystal! Don't worry, Harry. Everyone else heard it even if that ungrateful rat didn't!"

Sirius had clearly gone into melodramatic mode. They were so doomed. But James, always the daring one, just couldn't let it be.

"You know," James said. "It's funny, but I distinctly thought I heard him say Wamf-ee."

Sirius glared, and brought the baby to his chest, gently rocking the child and sighing as he trudged out of the room.

"Ingrates, Harry. Complete ingrates," he muttered.

Lily smiled to herself at the memory. She had watched it unfold from the other doorway. It seemed odd how happy they could be even with the world getting more dangerous every day. Lily knew hiding had been making James stir crazy, and it was getting to her a bit too. Their friends were off fighting the legions of the Dark Lord, and here they were joking about diapers. When they received letters from friends, it was all bad news.

There'd been a letter from Remus a few weeks ago. She'd been reading to Harry when all of a sudden Lily heard a horrible yell and the sound of something being thrown against a wall. She'd rushed downstairs and there was James shaking somewhere between rage and tears with a burning piece of parchment in his hands.

"James?"

"He sent a letter, The bloody git. Sent a, a letter. How dare he!"

"Who?" Lily asked, staring at what must have been the letter, which was now on fire and being tossed into the fireplace.

"Him. Lupin."

James had refused to say Remus or Moony since the Order meeting three months ago.

Remus seldom showed up to the meetings anymore. He said it was hard to get away from the werewolf pack he was monitoring. But his behavior had gotten shadier and shadier. Kingsly had bumped into him while on auror duty in Knockturn Alley, and on the rare occasions when Remus provided them with a scrap of intelligence information it was often wrong. They'd wind up 20 miles away from a raid -- a raid they'd suspected of happing right where it did happen until Remus passed on false information.

Lily still was hesitant.

But the Order had a spy and it looked more like Remus was it every day.

Before the meeting three months ago, Sirius had been talking about Remus' behavior non-stop. His mood swung wildly from defensive to frustrated to hurt until finally, more and more, it settled on angry. He was clearly convinced Remus was under some spell or had actually turned on them. The Black was ready to sit on the werewolf until he came to his senses. He'd joke about it like that, but it was clear it was a dark topic, even for the ever-lighthearted Sirius.

James would have none of it. Leading up to the meeting he and Sirius were getting into shouting matches at work on a daily basis, each more violent as Sirius grew more concerned and somber.

During one particularly bad row, Sirius' dramatic slamming of his fist knocked some sort of opera glasses off a desk. Apparently, they were a priceless security device and it was Mad-Eye Moody's desk.

The senior auror had threatened to submit them both to the Department of Mysteries as test subjects if it ever happened again.

That had quieted them down, but they both were stewing, ready to prove each other wrong at the next Order meeting where Remus showed up.

The night of the falling out, Remus had arrived late. He quietly sat at the table, ignoring Sirius' glares, just wearily staring at candle in the center of the table.

When Dumbledore asked if he had anything to report, Remus didn't seem to respond.

Just when James was about to kick him under the table because he thought Remus hadn't heard ("Poor bloke must be knackered, eh?"), the werewolf spoke up.

"No, nothing."

"Nothing, Remus?" Dumbledore asked.

"Sorry."

Everyone waited for some sort of elaboration, but Sirius chose that moment to explode.

"He's been kissing Voldermort's arse is what he's been doing!"

"Black!" Minerva was scolding as Peter and Benjy Fenwick tried to push him back into his seat.

"Oh, don't hush me you lot! How can you let him just keep coming and listening to our meetings and leaving and telling Merlin knows who?" Back was panting now.

"Shove it, Black. Moony has a perfectly good explanation, which I'm sure he's about to share. You sound as prejudiced as your parents. Remmy couldn't hurt a fly."

Remus slid his chair back from the table and stood up, looking like he was trying to come up with something to say. He seemed to be struggling, opening and shutting his mouth.

"I saw him at…he was…"

It wasn't Remus who had spoken. The stutter had come from Peter.

"He was…Remus was in London on the full moon last week."

There was silence for a minute.

"Riiiight Peter. I think we've been over the whole business about how it doesn't matter until it's dark out," James was the first to break the stillness.

Remus slowly sat back in his chair, dropping the last few inches like a lead weight.

"No, James, it was right before sundown. And, he, there w-w-were children. It was right by that big playground over by the circle, where we took Harry that one time. The muggle news said a boy was murdered…in a funny way, they wouldn't s-s-say how, but in that park that night. I didn't want to say anything, Moony's our friend, but…"

Again silence. Remus looked mortified.

This time Dumbledore spoke up, slowly and deliberately.

"Remus, do you have a reason for this?"

"Yes."

"And that would be?"

"I can't say."

"Oh, you bloody, bloody, bloody oh I don't even know what to call you. That's all you say now! Hanging out with moldy Voldie? 'Can't say.' Bite any children lately? 'Can't say.' Have a nose on your face? 'Can't say,'" Sirius was seething, butting in every time Remus paused.

"I'm sorry, I really can't, you know, the pack…"

"Damn the werewolves. We're your pack."

"Please, I know I shouldn't have been in London..."

"He admits it!"

"…but you'll just have to understand and…"

"Fat chance!"

Here Remus seemed to struggle to speak again.

"I just can't say!"

"Useless. Completely useless. What bloody good is a spy who never tells us anything?"

"Sirius," Dumbledore began to interrupt.

"WE TRUSTED YOU!" That was not Sirius. All eyes in the room turned to James Potter, who appeared to be squeezing the life out of the parchment he'd been taking notes on. His eyes were ablaze beneath his mess of dark hair.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have," Remus whispered.

James lunged across the table, and all hell broke loose with the exception of Sirius Black who was standing frozen staring at Remus.

It took a few long seconds for things to calm down (via Lily side tackling James, but not before he managed to punch Remus in the jaw).

The Order's resident werewolf looked at James, searching for something. The slight frown he walked in with tonight never leaving Remus' face.

"I'd better get back to the pack. I'll let you know if I hear anything."

Dumbledore followed him out the door. There was quiet whispering in the hall and then the slamming of the front door.

Dumbledore came back in and called it a night, offering some Sugar Newts to cheer them up before parting ways.

James was in a chair, glaring at the wall. Peter was in a corner in tears. Lily stood behind James debating whether to slap him or not. And Sirius, Sirius was still staring at Remus' chair.

"I kinda thought…I can't believe Moony actually said that," Sirius finally spoke and turned his attention to the remaining marauders. "You don't think Remus would actually do that, do you Pete? There must have been other werewolves with him right? He wouldn't, Moony couldn't…"

Sirius suddenly turned and walked into the next room. An "oomf" informed them he'd settled on the couch by the fireplace.

Lily had been shocked. The mighty Black, despite all the talk, appeared to be heartbroken that Remus had basically confirmed that he was the spy. Everything always seemed to be a game to the invincible pure blood, but this time he'd been more right than he'd meant to be. He'd suspected an Imperius curse or maybe Remus was dabbling in the dark a little too much in his efforts to extract information. But Remus J. Lupin did not murder children.

And James, who had placed so much faith in Remus, seemed to feel even more betrayed than Sirius.

Three months later Lily still didn't know what she thought.

Apparently Remus' letter – the one James set on fire – had just said something to the effect of "Hope you're safe. I hear Harry nearly took his first steps the other day and now has enough messy hair to rival his father. I'm so scraped up after the last moon that I look like one of the mummies from that muggle museum Lily likes. Looks bad out here, but getting by. Cheers, Remus."

Even if not for the great falling out, Lily couldn't figure out what Remus had been thinking. Who sent a letter like that during a war?

And when the Death Eaters attacked and killed 27 muggles at The British Museum a few days later, Lily couldn't shrug the feeling that it wasn't a coincidence. Had Remus known? Was he taunting them? It was so unlike Remus. She had hidden the news article from James, trying to convince herself that there really was nothing to it.

Lily caught herself sighing again. She'd been doing that a lot lately.

Watching the marauders break apart was a painful thing. They'd been a fixture in her life for a decade now, even if occasionally a somewhat annoying fixture. (How on earth had Sirius Black gotten in their wedding limo, so that he could pop out the second the post-nuptial fun started in the back seat?) But this was Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs and seeing them a mess reminded her that everything else was a mess. Dead friends on the front page of the Prophet every day and stories of terror in the muggle world from her sister.

Lily let out another long sigh.

Harry was quietly playing with the hem of her shirt and James apparently had given up on dishes because the kitchen was silent.

And in that silence she heard the front door open.

She listened as James walked towards the front door. "Peter? Peter?"

And then a gasping yell: "Run Lily. Take Harry. They've found us."

Lily didn't need to ask who "they" were. She snatched her wand, held Harry in one arm and apparated…tried to apparate. Something was blocking it. The attempt left her feeling woozy.

She faintly heard shouting downstairs and then there was a flash of blue light from the staircase.

Making for the window, Lily jumped back as a curse from the outside shattered the glass.

Lily was a smart witch, but she was running circles trying to think of a way to save her Harry.

Footsteps up the stairs. Almost a slither.

Suddenly she was remembering a passage from her fourth-year history of magic class. The words just popped into her head unbidden as if on instinct.

"The strongest and most difficult protective magic is blood magic. It was perfected and written about a great deal in the early 1100s, but little is still known about it. We do know that the magic is said to require great natural talent, strength of will, a powerful bond, blood relation and wandless magic."

There had to be a way, but she was out of time. A cruel laugh was coming from the doorway.

Lily looked into those green eyes so like her own and whispered "I love you."

In a flash she turned and pointed her wand at Voldemort. But her lips had barely opened when a blue flash from Voldemort's wand froze the witch where she stood.

"C-c-can't we just take the baby with us like the parents, M-m-my Lord?" Pettigrew stammered from the shadows.

"The parents can tell me things a useless rat like you would never be privy to. Their deaths will be slow and hopefully will give us new information on Dumbledore and the ministry. But the boy needs to die."

"B-b-but surely master, a boy…"

"He dies."

And with a flick of the Dark Lord's wand, a green burst of a light and a scream, Voldemort was gone. "Master?" Pettrigrew looked left and right, then staggered to the crib, making sure to stay far away from the lightly glowing and frozen form of Lily. She stood, wand raised as though frozen in time itself but clearly not dead.

Harry Potter was bawling. His pudgy little finger rubbed at a trickle of blood on an odd, lightning-bolt-shaped scar. Pettigrew ran, passing another frozen figure on the first floor on his way out the door.

***

The next morning, Sirius Black was sent to Azkaban without trial for betraying the Potters, killing a crowd of muggles and murdering Peter Pettigrew. A rat missing a toe ran from the scene.

The Potters were transferred to the Ministry of Magic where work began on efforts to restore the couple.

And Remus Lupin rested naked, bloody and cold in a field of long grass, staring at the predawn sky and hoping that the world would forget about him if he just didn't sit up.

"Oi, Lupin! Lupin where are you?"

Remus sat up.

"Over here Seamus."

"What are you doing so far from the town? Greyback is going to beat the snot out of you again. This is the second moon in a row you've turned up nowhere near the attack point."

"My Wolf appears to have chased the town mayor out here for sport," Remus said, poking the nearby corpse with his toe.

He hoped the blood he'd smeared around his mouth earlier that morning looked convincing. Honestly, he had no idea who had killed the mayor, but he'd been testing a new potion Snape had been experimentally brewing to suppress the Wolf. It was painful and imperfect, but it let him keep his mind well enough to defend a few people and then play along after the moon.

The potion let him regain his senses faster than the other wolves after transforming back into human form. He usually used this time to set himself up to look like he'd made a particularly impressive kill.

This time, though, and last time, it had been too much. He couldn't take much more of this, especially after things went so horribly wrong at that London playground. Each day after the moon, he awoke to villages full of shredded bodies. The pack was getting frenzied with the excitement of war and the number of wolves had been growing larger.

So, when Remus awoke this time to find a limp little girl with her dress dyed red a few feet from him, he grabbed the mayor and apparated to a nearby field to catch his breath and throw up a little.

Seamus was a tall, harry man and the sort of werewolf who Remus suspected would be a nasty person even without his condition. He'd missed out on his share of brains, but Greyback liked his brutish attitude. Luckily, even though Remus was Greyback's first and favorite bitten "son," he wasn't expected to like Seamus.

After all, a werewolf who was also a wand user was a mysterious and revered thing. He was expected to have higher standards, even if they all resented him for it a little.

So, Seamus just laughed when Remus turned away from him and began walking toward the rendezvous point.

"You look like crap. Particularly rough night eh?" Seamus called out after him.

This would be the start of the worst week of Remus J. Lupin's life.

***

Preview for next chapter:

--APPROXIMATELY 11 YEARS LATER--

Kingsley smiled back at the Potters and Black, still marveling that they were here. It was a lovely, sunny day, and they'd come to see the one man who would know where Dumbledore might be at the moment. And they needed Dumbledore to sort out the whole business of two newly unfrozen, 21-year-old Potters and one newly proved innocent, 32-year-old Black.

So here they were on the brick path leading up to a cozy little cottage in a row of equally quaint houses.

Kingsley turned back to the door as he heard the sound of footsteps. A second later there was the jingle of locks being magicked open.

"Sorry, Kingsley, give me just a second," a muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

The auror froze. Oh, no.

Black raised and eyebrow at Kingsley's sudden horror.

"Sorry, sorry, I heard you calling, and I'm trying to get it open, but dad's just got too many darn locks on the door. Paranoid much?"

Oh no, no, no, no, no. The Potters had been unfrozen for less than 5 hours. Kingsley had found out 3 hours ago, and in his rush to find Dumbledore he had put them all into the most awkward situation possible. Of course, it was summer holidays, that was the whole reason why Dumbledore was away and why the werewolf should be here at home instead of Hogwarts.

Click. And the door opened.

"There we go. Dad's actually not home right now, but you can step in…Oh, wow, is that…are they…uh, Kingsley?"

The door had opened to reveal an 11 year-old boy with messy black hair and startling green eyes.

Kingsley finally found his tongue.

"Oh shit."

***

AN: Phew. Done with the first chapter. Please read and review. Some plot holes are deliberate and come into play later, but let me know if anything is confusing and I'll fix it.