Chapter 2

"Harry, Harry, come on, Harry, please wake up."

Through the fog Harry could just make out Hermione and Ron's blurry faces hovering above him. Everything else in the room was too bright to look at being white and reflecting all the light. Harry closed his eyes again to block out the blinding light and felt someone slide his glasses onto his face.

"Ron, what happened to him?" To Harry's muddled brain Hermione's voice sounded muffled and distant.

"He. Uh. Passed out and hit his head on the statue that was standing next to the door."

"You LET him fall?!" Hermione practically shrieked. "He could have DIED!"

"I was too busy paying attention to something else to catch him in time," Ron said stiffly.

"But, why did he pass out?"

"I think it was from shock. Can't really say I blame him, though. It was kinda freaky, y'know?"

"No, I don't know. I wasn't there in case you forgot that," Hermione snapped.

"Oh right. Well. we, uh, saw Harry's parents, well we think it was them, with Sirius and Lupin," Ron glared at Hermione as she burst out laughing and received a glare from Madame Pomfrey. (A/N is it just me or does Poppy Pomfrey sound funny put together?)

"I'm serious, Hermione," Ron crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh, come off it, Ron. We all know that they're."

"Dead," Harry quietly finished for her having finally cleared his head. "I know, but the map even labeled 'em both Potter. It doesn't lie."

"HARRY! Are you all right?!" The door to the hospital slammed open nearly ripped off of their hinges as a man ran in.

"Mr. Black, if you cannot keep your voice down I will have to ask you to leave. My patient needs rest," Madame Pomfrey snapped at the man who had just run over to Harry's bedside. "Poor guy. He's paranoid about that boy. Can't say that I blame him, though. He's visited me more than any other student," she murmured softly to herself.

"Harry, what happened? You weren't doing something dangerous were you?"

"I decided to play with Fluffy. I didn't realize that our views on 'play' would be so different. She thought I meant viciously maul. You'd think I go looking for trouble with the way you act sometimes." Harry muttered sarcastically. "You were there, you know what happened." His head hurt and he wished that his godfather would take Pomfrey's advice and keep his voice down.

"Madame Pomfrey sent me an owl an hour ago saying you were here unconscious. I came as fast as I could. I really have no idea why you think I was there when this happened. You weren't hallucinating were you? Now tell me the truth. Were you doing anything dangerous?" Sirius brushed the hair out of Harry's face. He worried about his godson. He just wanted to keep him safe. He was all he had left of his best friend.

"Of course I wasn't doing anything dangerous!" Harry sounded rather irritated. After all it wasn't as if he went looking for trouble. Not really anyways. Only when he had to.

"I guess that potion you used earlier wore off. Shame. You and Lupin looked a lot better. No offense," Ron added hastily. "Healthier. You still look too thin."

"What are you talking about? What potion? And what about Remus? He's back at home. I didn't think that he needed to come as well. And I'd still like to know what happened to Harry, since I honestly wasn't there."

"Okay, well, we were using the map earlier and it showed four dots in the room next to us: Lupin, Black, Potter, and Potter. Harry couldn't remember you saying that you'd visit so we decided to see what you and Lupin were up to. You both looked about our age actually. So did the other two with you. One was a red headed girl and the other could have passed for Harry's twin, except he had hazel eyes and was a little bit taller. Harry said something like 'Mum and Dad' and I think he was going to say that they were dead and that's when he passed out and hit his head. The five of us brought Harry here, but somewhere along the way we lost the four of you."

Sirius groaned quietly, "Please tell me you're joking, Ron. That has got to be the worst lie I've ever heard."

"No, I'm not joking. And I'm not lying. You mean it really wasn't you and Lupin?"

"No, it wasn't."

"Then how." Hermione looked confused and looked over at Ron who wore the same sort of expression as she.

"I have no idea. I think Ron must have hit his head as well because it simply isn't possible. Either that or it's a sick joke," Sirius nearly growled out. "And I intend to find out who's behind it."

~*~ Meanwhile.

"He looked exactly like you, Prongs! Well, almost. He had Lily's eyes and height," Lupin declared in awe. "Apparently you and Lily tied the knot after all. Now isn't that heartening?" he grinned.

James, however, wasn't sharing in the enthusiasm going on around him. Something about his son was bothering him. The way he had just stood there and just looked at him as if he had seen a ghost or was hallucinating. It was creepy. If he had assumed that Sirius and Remus had just taken a potion, then why hadn't Harry thought the same of him and Lily? And where had that scar come from? Something just wasn't right. "I think I'm gonna go wander around for a bit. I need some time to think by myself," James said quietly as he put on his invisibility cloak and handed Sirius the map. They'd need it more than he would since they didn't have any way to keep from being seen. He took the cloak off when no one was looking after he got into the library. Looking for books when you didn't know what you were looking for in the first place was hard enough. The cloak only made it all that much harder. Most likely people would just assume that he was Harry from the side. James wondered where the odd shaped scar on his son's forehead had come from and what house he was in while he wandered the isles.

"Hey, you'll never guess who I just saw in the next isle." "Who?" "Harry Potter. The Harry Potter. Isn't that so cool? Maybe we could get his autograph." James listened to the excited voices on the other side of the bookcase. He assumed the person they saw was himself. Last he knew, his son was still in the Hospital Wing. Their voices sounded young. Probably first years, but why were they talking about Harry and why would they want his autograph? "You think he really has that scar?" "Dunno, Sarah said she accidentally bumped into him yesterday and that she saw it." "Think he'll let us see it?" "Sarah said he was really nice and polite, but I don't know if we should ask him. I mean You-Know-Who gave it to him when he was a baby right after he killed his parents so he might not wanna be reminded about it." James didn't bother listening to the rest of the conversation. He was hearing a strange ringing in his ears and was seeing red. Voldemort had tried to kill his son! A Baby! Well, that would explain the strange reaction Harry had to him. James assumed that Sirius had been the one to raise Harry. He knew he wouldn't have chosen anyone else. He wondered if Padfoot had done a good job of it. He guessed so since the girl had said he was nice and polite. He sniggered at the thought of Sirius playing the part of father and good roll model for little Harry. Sirius and good roll model usually didn't work in the same sentence unless 'isn't' was somewhere in the middle of it.

"Well, well. Well. If it isn't Hairy Potty," sneered a blonde boy with a pointed face. He reminded James of a rat and he sniggered earning himself a glare from the boy. "Well, what's so funny, Potty."

"You. I just realized how much you remind me of a rat when I look at you. All you need are whiskers and a tail." James earned another murderous glare from the blonde, but he was pleased to see embarrassment color the boy's pale cheeks.

"I see Weasel isn't here to protect you."

"His name isn't Weasel," James hoped, at least, that the boy's name wasn't Weasel. If it was he just sounded pretty stupid. "And I don't need him to protect me. It does look like you need those two to protect you, though." The boy just glared. 'Guess his name isn't Weasel. Thank gods. He must be that red head that Harry was with earlier,' James thought. "I see you don't deny it," James grinned and wondered who these guys were. The blonde resembled Lucius Malfoy so he assumed this was his son. He was positive that they couldn't be Harry's friends. No friend would be that cruel. He saw the blonde start to bring out his wand, but James was faster and covered the boy with his own. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," James warned lazily. He was used to dueling with Slytherins and this was typical behavior for them.

"Good thing you're not, then," the boy sneered, not noticing James mouthing a charm.

"True. I wouldn't like to go around in my pink boxer shorts and flanked by two overly large ballerinas. Leotards and tights don't flatter them very much," and with that James walked away quite smug. The three boys hadn't even realized that he'd done anything to them until it was too late. He just hoped that he hadn't caused too much trouble for Harry. He didn't know whether or not his son was a prankster like he was, but one could always hope. At least now he had an idea on what kind of book to look for. He wanted something on Voldemort and who he had killed, but what book would something like that be in in a school library? Maybe something like The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. That sounded like a good place to start. He had just flipped the book open when he was interrupted by someone yelling at him thinking that he was Harry.

"There you are, Harry! We've been looking for you everywhere!" A tall black haired boy ran over to James followed by a second boy. The first had his hair tied back in a ponytail and the second had short spiky black hair with red tips.

"Quidditch practice started half an hour ago! Get you broom from your dorm and let's go! We're never going to beat Slytherin if you slack off."

James watched the two boys race off back towards the Quidditch pitch. So, Harry was on the Quidditch team. James wondered what position his son played. Hopefully he played Chaser. As long as it wasn't Seeker, James was set. He could manage any position but that one. James ran up to the Gryffindor common room and into the boy's dormitories. He was very thankful that the Fat Lady had recognized him and had given him the pass word. He searched for the trunk with the initials H.P. and found Harry's Firebolt and raced back out towards the Quidditch pitch thanking the boys mentally for telling him where the broom was. It was actually a rather nice broom and he wondered if Sirius had been the one to give it to him.