So exciting... so here is chapter one... thanks to Hermiones Quill 94 for being my first reviewer...

Chapter 1:

Potter's Dreams:

James woke with a start. He was breathing hard as his head began to clear. He sat up, running the back of his hand along his forehead. He pulled on his glasses and sighed. He turned on the old oil lamp that was beside his bed before searching for his watch. He was certain that it couldn't be any later than five am. His watch was on his desk. He stood up and made his way across the room. He was right. It was 4:49am. James sighed once more. He'd been hoping for a good night's sleep. James had grown somewhat over the two weeks since he had left Hogwarts. He had shot up several inches and all the flying he had gotten in had defined his muscles. His hair was more untidy than ever following his nightmare. James began to think back to what he had dreamt. He'd been having these dreams ever since coming home. It was because his father was away on a mission and James was anxious… no terrified. He kept dreaming that his father, Charlus Potter, the head of the auror office, was being tortured by death eaters or worse Voldemort himself. This time his father had been in a dark, damp dungeon room not unlike the potions dungeons at Hogwarts. Bellatrix Lestrange had been using the cruciatus curse on him. James had heard his father screaming for her to spare him but to no avail. In each of James' dreams his father would die with a bright green light and the words "Avada Kedavra!"

James hadn't told his mother about his dreams. He didn't want to worry her. She was scared enough as it was without him adding to the pressure. Their house, on the verge of the Forest of Dean, normally so friendly and welcoming was somewhat melancholy. The Jackson's had visited several times and Nancy had even brought her new boyfriend Xenophilius Lovegood to meet Dorea but nothing seemed to lift the sombre mood of the house. Sirius was due to arrive any day and James hoped that perhaps he could lighten their moods with his mischievous ways.

James wondered if he would be able to go back to sleep. He doubted it. He looked around his room. His school trunk stood open at the bottom of his bed. The walls were a beautiful green, the exact shade of Lily Evans' eyes, not that James would admit it to anyone other than himself and perhaps his mother. There was scrunched up parchment scattered around his desks; all the failed attempts he had made at writing to Miss Evans. Half way through his second week at home, James had given up.

James wondered what he could do to distract himself from the unpleasant images inside his head. He went to his bookshelf in an attempt to find a book but nothing seemed capable of holding his attention. He considered going downstairs to play the piano but that would undoubtedly wake his mother or one of the house-elves. He climbed back into his bed. He restlessly pulled his covers over his head. James sighed, before closing his eyes. He tried to focus on something other than his nightmare. He allowed his mind to dwell on a pair of pretty green eyes and beautiful, curly, red hair. He gradually drifted off to sleep. In his mind's eye he remembered every happy memory he had shared with Lily Evans… that moment on the library floor… the times that they had been dared to kiss… the look on her face when he gave her that music box… he falling asleep in his arms… just like it was memories of her that allowed him to cast a patronus, just like it was memories of her that kept the dementors at bay, it was memories of Lily Evans that kept the nightmares away.

When James woke once more several hours later, he was well rested and in a much better mood. He dressed and prepared for the day before making his way over to his desk to write a letter. He needed to check on his friend, Alice. Alice Prewett was one of James' oldest friends. They had known each other for years, even before Hogwarts. Recently her father had been killed by Voldemort, an evil wizard who was gaining in power and followers. Voldemort was as pure-blood supremacist like as they come. He had gathered the pure-bloods in the hope of starting a war. He wanted to be feared above all else. He craved power. Alice's father along with Charlus Potter and others had been trying to outsmart Voldemort. Alas Ignatius Prewett had been murdered by Voldemort's own wand. The dark mark had been found hovering over his corpse. His was one of the few bodies that had been found. Many people were disappearing but a lot of the time a body was never recovered. There was talk of the Death Eaters raising an army of Inferi.

Dear Ali,

I hope you are ok. I haven't seen much of you in the last few weeks and if I am honest I miss you. Come on you little Pixie. Come visit me – or I'll have to drag you out of hiding. Frank says he's barely seen you either. That boy loves you – he's worried.

Sirius is coming to visit soon. I know he would love to see you. When is Lily coming to visit you? Maybe she can cheer you up. I know how close you girls are…

Lots of Love,

James xxx

James sighed; it wasn't the best letter he had ever written. He really didn't know what he was expected to say to his mourning friend. He had never lost a parent. He had come close… very close… but Charlus had always returned… eventually. Alice's and James' parents were part of a secret organisation called the Order of the Phoenix that was working to bring Voldemort down before war could begin. From what James had gathered, Ignatius had been murdered when he got too close to Voldemort's hide out. It was an awful shame. Ignatius Prewett had been a lovely man. According to James' mother, who was Alice's mother Lucretia's great aunt, Alice's mum hadn't been out of her bed since the death of her husband. Dorea Potter had been visiting the Prewett household almost daily to comfort her friend. There had been a lot of extra pressure resting on Alice's young shoulders as the only person left to run the family home. Lucretia was a healer at St Mungo's and Dorea kept trying to encourage her to go back to work and carry on with her life. It had been two months since the death of her husband. James sighed as he thought of his old friend. He looked at his watch, breakfast time… I might ask mother if I can visit the Prewetts with her today…

Please review... I hope you like the new title idea... :)