a/n – Thank you for all the reviewers with all the helpful tips and compliments!

LunaTheIpod and MythoMagic-Champion, thanks, it means a lot to me to see REAL people appreciate my writing, not just teachers!

Reclusive Lynn – OK, I'll take all that on board! :D And by 'blending the dialogue' do you mean to make it flow more smoothly from the descriptive text? Hope you had a great weekend too, I had brilliant one, it was sunny (rather than the typical British weather) and I was outside all the time!

Note that James is a quidditch player – no war had started so he didn't feel the urge to become an auror like he was in the real universe.

.x

The Parallel Universe

It was a rainy Sunday morning, and Lily and James had been planning to take Harry to the fields for a ride on his toy broomstick. The broomstick in question had been a birthday present from Sirius Black – a.k.a James' partner in crime and Harry's godfather – who had expressed wishes that Harry would be as great of a player that James had been at school.

Typically, though, it was raining – again.

"Damn this British weather!" James awoke in a mood but as he came down the stairs his son's face cleared his huff completely.

"I know, darling, but I'm afraid we're going to have to think of something else to do."

"But Harry wanted to go out today, won't he be disappointed?"

"Bit of an understatement. Unless…"

This was how they found themselves, hours later, packing a whole load of ornaments into a box. Last time they did this – Lily remembered, smiling – Harry had smashed a horrible vase given to her from her sister, Petunia. She has never cared for the thing – but she couldn't risk breaking one of her finer pieces – for example, a singing clam shell, a souvenir from their honeymoon – so she reluctantly packed them away and, with a tap of her wand, made the box fly upstairs.

"Come on then, Harry son!"

Lily turned back into the living room to see Harry racing around merrily and James cheering after him, on the sofa.

"James! Aren't you going to – you know – put your hand on his back or something?"

"Oh, he's alright, Lily, for God's sake. You worry about these things too much sometimes."

"I know but – oh, never mind." She sighed and joined him on the sofa.

Up until that moment, Harry had been whizzing around on his broomstick. Now he landed, almost perfectly, and came to an abrupt halt facing his mother.

"Me hungry now."

"Oh Harry, sweetpea, it's only ten o'clock, do you not want to wait until Sirius comes round before you eat?"

"Me hungry now."

"Oh, OK."

And she headed for the fridge, looking to share an exasperated look with James, but James just looked at his son proudly and said, "His language is getting on, isn't it?!"

"I know James, but is now really the moment?"

"I guess not."

"So," Lily continued, turning to Harry. "Do you know what you would like?"

"Fizzing Whizzbee, Fizzing Whizzbees!"

And this time, when she faced James, his expression mirrored her own.

-o-

The day continued as normal for the Potter family. Sirius came round, and he played happily with his godson for a good few hours whilst talking to James and Lily.

Harry loved playing with his Appleby Arrows figures, whom he supported, as his dad played for them. He was the Seeker, and Harry really enjoyed putting the James Potter figure next to his father, while squealing "Mini you, Mini you!"

Harry had been to one of his father's quidditch matches, and he had loved it. He cheered hard when his father grasped the Snitch, and waved it above his head. He even had his own inflatable bow and arrow so he could fire his own arrow into the air like his dad.

When he had finished chuckling at James' figure argueing with one of the Chasers, Harry retired to his favourite story – Babbitty Rabbitty and the Cackling Stump. He sat attentively while Sirius read the book ever so carefully, ever so clearly. He laughed at the pictures of Babbitty, and at Sirius' funny voice.

Harry loved his Mum and Dad. He loved Sirius too, and all of his Mum and Dad's friends. He especially loved Albus Dumbledore – he always snorted delightfully when Dumbledore's beard tickled him.

It also happened to be Halloween that day. They had planned to take Harry out that night, as well, all dressed in his pumpkin outfit – but it had poured down, and the Potters didn't think much of rain. The day had been filled enough without trick or treating.

In fact, when it was time for Harry to go to bed, he was exhausted. He fell asleep pretty much as soon as his head touched the pillow, without complaint. Lily and James were glad of this, because all though they didn't admit it to Harry, they were whacked too.

When they were walking up to bed, the silence seemed too special, too good to last, as they knew that Harry would probably wake up during the night.

"Are you OK, Lily-Petal?" said James, frowning, as his wife seemed a little out-of-sorts.

"Yeah, I just feel like I should be worrying about something, something important, but I just can't seem to work it out."

"I know what you mean. It's like when we used to pack for Hogwarts, and you feel like you've forgotten something even if you haven't."

"Well, I never got that feeling," said Lily, smiling slightly at the thought.

"Well, we all know you're perfect, Lilykins."

And they clambered into bed without another word.

Lily didn't sleep soundly though, as some thought was still niggling at the back of her head. She knew, logically, that everything was safe and well, but she still had the feeling of worry that she couldn't quite explain.

She tossed and turned for around an hour, before finally finding a comfortable position and dropping her eyelids.

-o-

A loud, harsh cry filled the night like a siren of warning – a warning of danger. Lily woke with a start and shook James awake quickly.

"Harry, Harry, what's wrong with Harry?"

She practically sprinted across the landing to Harry's room, quickly and lightly, James rubbing his eyes and rushing along after her.

They entered Harry's room, preparing for the worst, but nothing seemed to be of great concern - Harry was standing up in his cot, holding on to the bars, shaking them rapidly.

"Are you alright, son?"

Harry stopped abruptly, realising his parents were there. He looked utterly confused for a moment, before muttering, "Bad dweam, daddy. Bad dweam."

"Oh, Harry, son," James whispered, reaching over the bars of his cot and hugging him tightly, but carefully.

"Your mother and I are here, it's ok. I know that some dreams are nasty, but you've got to remember – it's not real." He kissed his son on the head, lovingly.

"Come on Lily, back to –Lily?"

Lily was standing at the window, looking upset and confused and – oh, a whole whelm of emotions.

"You're crying, Lilykins. Harry's fine – look, why are you crying?"

An awkward silence echoed through the room, before –

"I don't know."

They turned around, and saw that Harry had already settled back down onto his blankets and relaxed into a deep sleep.

"He's alright, everyone is, I don't understand, Lily – "

"Look, I'm fine, I'm just being silly, let's go back across to our room before it turns midnight."

And with that, they both softly padded along the landing and back in to bed.

-o-

Somewhere, elsewhere, a wizard was spinning his wand nervously in his hands. Dumbledore couldn't take his mind of the night's happenings.

You see, Dumbledore couldn't stand the thought of another him, so when he created the two worlds, he replicated all but himself and Voldemort. Some would call it a hindrance that Dumbledore had to journey almost daily from universe to universe, to avoid arousing suspicion with his absence – but he quite enjoyed it, thank you very much. But now was not the time for thinking of one's hobbies…

He wondered what had happened with Lily and James less than an hour ago. His spell work hadn't been perfect, there was bound to be some corruption between the two worlds. He wondered whether Harry had felt pain, whether he had dreamed, whether he was ill.

For tonight had been a big night, one that couldn't be ignored, not even in the grand scheme of things. It had also been terrible- horrendously terrible.

For it was the night.

The night where everything changed.

The night Tom Riddle tore apart the Potter family.