Hey all! I'm back after a long hibernation period! I just want to say that i am thinking of ending this fic in a few more chapters. I had planned another BIG complication but i am thinking of just putting it in a seperate fic. what do you think? I am not too happy with this, but i have been playing around with it for too long, i just had to publish it!.

if you have any fics about james being alive then please tell me in a review. I want to read some more!

thanks again!

xx

Harry James Potter had a very skewed perception of a father figure. He didn't have a lot of sources to draw from. Harry believed a father to be someone he could belong to, someone he could finally call his own.

At best, his father might visit a couple times a year, or send him the odd Christmas card in December.

Harry didn't know what having a father truly meant.

James, almost hyperventilating, didn't know what to do, his fingers just reached out and brushed Harry's shoulder, real and warm. Harry didn't seem to feel it.

Then, just as the silence was about to suffocate everyone, Harry lifted his head, showing two bright emerald eyes. They darted around the group, clicking with everyone like puzzle pieces snapping together.

Harry, from his dazed sitting position on the floor, surveyed everybody's emotions. He was feeling irrationally scared and his head spun.

"Harry… I'm your father. I'm James…" James' voice faltered and Harry stared at the man who looked just like him.

James' mouth went dry and he couldn't speak anymore. He was sure that if he did he would stuff everything up and his own son wouldn't think of him as a good father.

Harry looked at James, seeing clearly how similar they looked. Harry, his brain always wired to say 'The wrong thing at the wrong time' (according to Emilia Wealthlock) or 'A smart-arse, rude response' (according to Mr Wealthlock) immediately blurted out, "You look just like me."

Harry immediately regretted saying it. Why had he?

The words had just flown straight of his tongue, so fast he couldn't put a handle on it. They were true though, and Harry was just impressed he could speak coherent sentences while his head was throbbing.

Oh my god! Harry! Do you know how long you made me wait to do this?"

At first Harry thought he was being attacked, and then he realized that he was being enclosed in a suffocatingly tight hug.

Harry felt James arms winding around him and his laughing voice near his ear. Everything was so amplified and new and beautiful. James arms where so tight that it was almost suffocating, but it felt good, like Harry was getting every bad memory squeezed out of him.

Harry was being hugged by his father.

Then someone pulled his dad's arms off him, and Harry felt another pair of, gentler but still tight, arms wind around him to replace them.

Harry's cheek was being tickled by a mane of red hair, and a pointy chin dug into his shoulder. The lady held him at arms distance, drinking in his face with dripping eyes. Eyes that were exactly the same shade as his.

"Are you my…?"The lady swung her arms around Harry again, crying jaggedly through her words. "I'm your mum! Harry! I'm your mum!" James then wrapped his arms around mother and son, creating an overlapping hug, that kept everyone together and united.

Harry on instinct pushed them away, he felt too many emotions bubbling up inside of him. He was always taught to internalize his feelings, he wasn't used to the feeling of them, slowly making him loose control.

He was always taught to push people away, to trust no one, his instincts kicked in.

Harry looked at his parents. He tried to process everything. "You both are my parents?" He asked again, in a shaky voice.

He didn't really need an answer. Both of them looked so much like him. He knew they were.

They nodded at his question.

But the next question was what Harry really wanted to know. What does that mean?

Harry knew he would probably move into another foster house.

Harry knew he couldn't expect anything from these people.

They didn't know him, they didn't want him. He had probably fallen out of the sky onto their laps, and as far as their patience might stretch, they probably didn't have enough time in their busy lives to spare him a thought.

He had been told all his life that he was too much work. He was a nuisance. He was trouble. Why would these people, his parents, want anything to do with him?

Then Harry realized something that made him really sad and angry. His parents obviously didn't want him, because they had given him away. They had given him another last name and carted him off to a different family.

They had left him there all his life at the Wealthlocks, outcast and miserable. They wouldn't do that if they wanted him.

His father's voice was hoarse as he spoke to him. "Harry, please, tell us what is wrong. We can help you. We are your parents…"

Harry was suddenly angry. It felt like meeting these people was a waste of time. What could they do for him? Except show him everything he wanted, and then snatch it away. Harry knew he was being unrealistically angry, but he didn't know what else to feel.

"I know! But it means nothing! Nothing changes! It doesn't change anything." Harry interrupted his father.

After he had yelled this, he brought his hand to his head. He still felt tired and sickly, he wobbled slightly feeling as though he was going to topple over.

He was hungry, thirsty, tired and very weak. He wanted to curl up on the floor and fall asleep.

Harry backed up against the gold and red wall, wanting to slump down, but he knew It was important to stay looking strong.

Harry knew what would happen. He would spend a night or two in this beautiful red and gold room and then he would leave, with another family and start from square one.

His parents will probably never visit, or even remember him after a few days.

"What do you mean, 'it doesn't change anything.' His mother's voice was hurt, and Harry looked at her to find her green eyes impossibly sad.

Harry felt guilty for his previous outburst. His parents really hadn't done anything wrong, he shouldn't blame them if they didn't want him.

"I mean… It doesn't really." Harry tried to explain, much more calmly. "Just because I now know you're my parents, doesn't mean I am going to live any differently. I will still be in another family like the Wealthlocks and I'll still stay home all day doing chores and stay up all night trying to escape. I'm glad I met you, but it really doesn't change anything."

He didn't know what reaction to excpect, but it wasn't for his mother to start laughing. She strided towards him. "No! We found you! And that changed everything. We love you Harry."

Harry didn't believe her.

"Then why did you send me away to the Wealthlocks? Why didn't you raise me yourself? How can you love me if you did that?"

James, listening to his son's words, suddenly felt a crushing weight on his chest. One of the main emotions James felt, and still feels, is guilt, when thinking of Harry's death. James' worst nightmare was that Harry would hate him because he didn't protect him.

James used to have nightmares of Harry, blaming him for his death. And when James woke up, it seemed like the dream didn't truly disappear.

If he tried a little harder, or if he had spent more time on the wards, if he had stayed to guard his son from harm, he wouldn't be dead.

James should have known after the prophecy was announced.

James blamed himself.

Now, James felt like Harry was blaming him too, just like his nightmares. When he said, 'How can you love me if you did that?' James was sure that he was having a nightmare. That was exactly what Harry would say in his nightmares.

"You can't love me if you can't protect me! I relied on you, and you let me down! What kind of father are you? You killed me! You took away my life! How can you love me if you did that? You killed me…"

James would desperately plead to Harry that he loved him, and tell him how sorry he was, he would try and reach out to touch him, but his fingers would brush air, and harry would disappear. James would wake up with nothing but tears on his cheeks.

James had to let Harry know that he was sorry.

"Harry, please. I have been blaming myself for not protecting you for years. I should never have let them kidnap you! I will do anything for you to believe me. I will take care of you and never let anyone hurt you again."

Harry looked at his father, his wide earnest eyes behind his glasses, and his ruffled black hair. His mother stood beside him with her skin blotchy and red as her hair.

What was he doing? Harry was standing here with every emotion he had ever felt coursing through him, pushing them away, his parents.

"Kidnap?" His voice trembled and broke. His mind was humming so loud it was hard to understand what they were saying.

Someone kidnapped him? Harry always believed that his parents abandoned him and left him. He never once thought that he was taken from them. He realized now how favourable that option was. That meant that his parents did want him, and that they would look after him.

"We would never ever leave you, Harry. Someone took you from us." They were crying as they spoke.

Harry looked at his parents, and finally let himself believe it. He had parents that loved him and would take care of him. He had parents that were good, kind people that would never leave him.

James watched Harry's face with nervousness in the pit of his stomach. Harry didn't show his emotion on his face, but James could see that he was thinking hard.

Finally, Harry's face cleaned completely, wiped away all the hard lines and opened up. James saw a cheeky glint in his eye.

"So… does that mean I can call you 'dad'?"

James blinked a few times, in shock. Hearing Harry say 'dad' sent shivers down his spine. It meant he forgave him. James felt every bit of regret, anger and grief ease away, he leapt forward and wrapped his arms tight around his son, what he had wanted to do for years, and vowed to never let him go.

"I'm going to take that as a 'yes'" Harry said.

Lily watched on, overcome with tears so violent she could hardly speak over them. Once James moved away, Harry walked up to Lily.

Harry was still a little apprehensive, he had never had a mother before, but it felt right when he gently hugged his crying mother. She flung her arms around him, blubbering.

"I'm just so happy!"

Harry heard his dad cracking up along side two other men.

Harry couldn't stop smiling as he turned to face his father again, he was going to ask him a question, when the words died on his lips, and his smile slipped off his face. He felt himself going very white. He was staring at Sirius, who caught his gaze.

Harry immediately recognized the man who had cut his cheek that time in Riddle Manor. He brought his hand to his cheek, feeling a slightly raised line there from the cut.

Sirius recognized the action, but Harry missed the way Sirius' eyes flashed in pain.

"Harry, I…"

Harry jumped over the couch behind him, backing away to the wall. He pulled his wand from his sleeve. James tried to grab him, but Harry dodged out of the way.

Sirius stumbled towards Harry, hand outstretched, trying to console him, but Harry kept moving backwards, until he could feel the cold wallpaper behind his shoulder blades.

Harry raised his wand towards the man. "Don't come any closer. Don't touch me."

James slowly walked towards Harry, forcing him to look at him instead of Sirius.

"Harry, it was not his fault, he thought you were a Death Eater. We are aurors. We are trained to catch Death Eaters. He didn't know who you were."

Harry instantly believed the words of his father, already, he trusted him. He lowered his wand and pulled himself away from the wall. He felt slightly embarrassed for overreacting, and sent an apologetic glance to the man.

At the look, Sirius stumbled ungracefully over to Harry, touching his shoulder and making wild gestures. Harry, not used to people touching him, seemed a bit shocked.

"Harry! I'm really sorry! I feel so bad about it! I didn't meant to, I'll never hurt you, I promise!"

Harry, having already believed that this man wouldn't hurt him by the words of his father was completely convinced by the earnest look in his eye.

Harry laughed and said, "It's fine. You really need to relax." Harry was used to the reception of such a comment being a scathing look or badly aimed slap. But the man just blinked and laughed, a barking laugh that made him sound like a dog.

"Harry this is Sirius, He is your Godfather." James introduced.

Sirius beamed at him, his smile looked like it was about to split his face in two.

Harry smiled back in greeting, but wobbled slightly. The pain in his head was making the room shake. Harry's throat was parched and his stomach begged for food, to top it off, his head was throbbing with a desperate need for sleep.

Through all their excitement, his family didn't seem to notice.

"And this…" Sirius exclaimed, dragging him to the other sandy haired man, "Is Moony, or you can call him Remus."

Harry nodded. "Hello…" His head was throbbing so much he had already forgotten the name of the person in front of him.

He couldn't hardly see anything, his vision was become increasingly blurry, as though he was looking through a tunnel of water.

Everybody started talking at the same time.

Lily was crying softly in joy, His father and Godfather were laughing and asing him questions. All the voices overlapped and fused together. Harry tried to blink to clear his vision, but it made his head throb even more.

They still didn't realize that he was struggling to stay upright.

The noises got louder and more painful to discern, finally blackness spread like a blanket over his greying vision. Everything painful snapped shut with a firm bang. Harry felt the collision of his body on the floorboards and the 'thunk' of his head hitting the floor.

TWO DAYS LATER

Harry woke up in a bed and instantly knew he was back at the Wealthlocks. He scrunched his eyes up, trying desperately to go back to sleep. He was having such a good dream… Voices echoed around him. Some were probably downstairs, the walls were paper thin in this house. He tried to block them out, but he could repeatedly hear the words "Harry." And laughter.

Laughter. That didn't seem right. There was only laughter combined with his name when Rowena was playing a particularly nasty prank on him. Someone drew back curtains , red tinged his eyelids and he rolled over, smacking his head into his pillow.

It felt softer than usual but he cast that idea away. He groaned, mentally pleading for five more minutes sleep. It wasn't that he was tired, it just that his bed was surprisingly comfortable and soft, and he knew that once he left it, he had to face a long day of boredom. Someone touched his hair, and said his name. It was a woman's voice, it must be Rowena.

Usually he was pretty well prepared for Rowena's pranks, he was surprised she even got into his room. He set booby traps by the doorway most of the time. He knew she was waiting for just the right moment to pounce her latest humiliating tricks on him. Maybe she had already cast a spell while he was asleep. The last one was having everything he ate taste like dirt for a day. No matter what he did, he couldn't reverse the spell.

"Rowena!" He groaned.

Thankfully, everything fell silent for a second.

"Go away, give me five more minutes." After he spoke he was granted a few beats of silence before there was laughing around his bed. Harry buried his head deeper into his pillow, trying to hold onto the deep sleep he was in. "Rowena… piss off…" Still riddled with sleep he rolled over and tugged the blanket over his head.

If anything, the voices were getting louder and clearer, instead of going away. It sounded like a whole crowd of people were standing around him.

"Seriously, Rowena, It's not that I don't love you, but you are really, really annoying."

Of course he was being sarcastic. There wasn't a person in the world he could love less than Rowena. She got especially angry when he called her 'sis' after she puts on an act of being so intimidating and tough.

Finally he gave up, he threw back his covers and wrenched his eyes open.

His stomach dropped.

He wasn't in the Wealthlocks family home and Rowena wasn't by his bed annoying him.

Instead there were four people around his bed.

Seeing them, a long rush of memories can back to him. He grasped the past that he had believed to be a dream. His dad, his mum, his godfather and the other man he had been introduced to before he blacked out.

He was in a spacious room, in a huge, comfy bed with thick red blankets.

He instantly locked eyes with Sirius, who was closest to his bed. Sirius had a huge grin on his face.

Harry felt a rush go to his head. This perfect dream was actually real. He didn't know what to say, but unfortunately, Sirius did.

"Have you got a girlfriend Harry? Rowena?" Sirius said, crawling onto the foot of his bed.

"Rowena…. She sounds smart." Lily added. Harry whipped his head to see her, and was shocked again by how lovely she was. This was real. He absorbed it with a grin growing across his face. Harry never smiled much, but now he couldn't stop.

"Is she hot?" Sirius added.

James who hadn't said anything, snorted.

Harry looked aghast about the people around him. He was still in awe at his luck. He was so lucky.

He finally started to absorb what they were saying. Something about Rowena? Harry shook his head to clear it of sleep and confusion.

He forced himself to focus.

When he did he saw everyone's face sharing a knowing glance and Sirius scooting closer to him on the bed, sitting, legs crossed like a school kid.

James looked at Harry shocked. "This Rowena girl is your girlfriend? You are only 13?" He ruffled his hand through his hair, laughing. "It seemed like yesterday you were a baby…"

Harry ignored the baby comment and latched on to the conversation. Rowena? Girlfriend?

"Is the hot!" Sirius persisted repeating his question. Lily shot him an exasperated look, that didn't quite hold because she was too overjoyed that her son was back.

Harry spluttered. "NO! She is NOT my girlfriend… and what do you mean 'hot'? She has always been normal temperature..."

Everyone chortled, Sirius the loudest, saying how much they had to teach Harry.

"Sirius meant to ask if she was pretty." Remus explained, clearing the look of confusion on Harry's face to one of horror.

"Rowena! Hell no! She is an ugly toad!"

Sirius laughed even harder.

"Don't be mean to your girlfriend Harry!"

Harry was embarrassed and started spluttering that she wasn't his girlfriend at all.

Lily joined the group with a sly grin. "You were talking about her in your sleep, Harry…"

Harry shook his head and covered his flushing face with his hands, groaning. "No! No! you are giving me horrible mental pictures!"

Lily laughed, but stopped teasing, throwing back the bed spread and walking to the other side of the room to open the curtains. Light steamed in, and hit the crisp white sheets. Harry yawned. Sirius was still laughing, but stood up too.

"Come down stairs when you are ready, Remus has made pancakes." Remus, James and Sirius left the bedroom, and Harry could hear them pounding down the stairs below.

Lily came towards him with a lovely smile on her face. She pushed his head from his forehead and kissed his head. "Your home now Harry. Everything is OK now."

Harry smiled, feeling so comfortable and safe. "Thank you." It was all he could say, it felt like there was a golf ball stuck in his throat. He had never felt so happy before.

Lily tutted about how old and dirty his clothes were and how she would get him new ones straight away, before leaving the room to, with a fond smile.

Harry sat up in his bed. The huge red and gold bed that was clean and dry. He looked at his huge new room, a beautiful feeling swelling in his chest. He felt invincible.

He was home and he was safe. That was all that counted.

Awww... :) sweet yeah? I want to apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes too. it really isn't my forte. :) :)

so what did you think? please review. it encourages me!

thanks again everyone! :) :) :)

PS- how rad was DH part 2? loooooooveeed it! and SIRIUS my favourite character even had an itty bitty line. :) yayay

BTW I DISCLAIM EVERYTHING, IF I OWNED ANYTHING I WOULD HAVE BROUGHT JAMES POTTER BACK TO LIFE