A/N: I think it's been awhile since I last updated, but I'm not sure...the busy of school and all. But my last finals are tomorrow, and then I can stop caring for two months! Woot with the yay! Anywho, this is Ron's POV. Welcome to chapter four, my darlings.

I was just minding my own business, sitting in the stands, watching Harry and Malfoy hurlting dangerously to the ground as they raced for possession of the elusive Snitch, when all of a sudden, there are two freaking Harry's!

At first I though I was having double vision, but then I realized that Harry 2 was already on the ground, talking to Dumbledore. Plus he was older than Harry 1. And wearing different clothes. And then I realized that it was probably Voldemort's new plan to take over the world and kill Harry. But then why would Dumbledore be talking to him so calmly? Hm. Then I was confused. Still am, actually, but less so, I think.

"Shit." I muttered, like any normal person who's just seen two of his singular best friend. Hermione didn't know about Harry 2 yet, so she gasped and slapped my arm before finally following my gaze to Harry 2. Actually, that slap hurt...a lot...The girl has got a good hard slap on her.

But that's not the point. The point is that when Hermione saw Harry 2, she screamed, "WHAT THE FUCK?!" Causing everyone to turn to Miss I'm-So-Perfect-Granger and wonder why she had chosen this peculiar moment to add expletives to her extensive vocabulary.

Then they followed her gaze. As did Harry, who had been as confused as anyone at Hermione's choice of words. He saw Harry 2, and promptly collided with the ground. Stupid git hadn't even thought to stop his broom from Hurlting Dangerously Towards the Ground. You'd think he'd have learned by now that brooms go crash when they get too close to the ground, but he was never the brightest person.

Harry's POV

I'm five meters from the Snitch. Four...Three...Two...On--what was that? Is that...me?! Ouch. I closed my eyes for just a second, and when I opened them again, I was no longer on the Quidditch Pitch. Or on my broom. Or racing Malfoy. Instead, I was in the Hospital Wing, on a bed, not racing Malfoy. Which wasn't surprising, considering that beds don't tend to race...except for some times, when they do.

Just then, Mme. Pomfrey fluttered over to me and started forcing various nasty-tasting potions down my throat. Sputtering, I managed to find Ron in the corner. "Ron!"

"Harry!"

"Mr. Weasley! I will not have you aggravating my patients!" Mme. Pomfrey barked, rushing over to him and trying to usher him out of the room.

"Oh please," he sneered, "You know that he's fine! You cured him of whatever he got while falling two seconds after bringing him in here! You're just giving him sedatives so that he doesn't react too excitedly when he finds out that his father's al--" She had finally managed to push him out the door.

"...Eh? What was that about my father? SEDATIVES? I AM PERFECTLY SEDATE! AND...was he going to say that my father's alive?"

Mme. Pomfrey clicked her tongue at me disapprovingly. "Don't need sedatives, do you? And who exactly is the medical professional here, hmm? And yes, your father's alive. He'll be in in a moment, just as soon as I've finished here...Ah. Right. I am done. Never mind, I'll send him in now."

She bustled out importantly. I heard some arguing regarding the welfare of her patient, and finally the door swung open to reveal......

James' POV

He was laying there, looking so confused, so pale against the white hospital sheets. He...my son...Harry....His eyes widened when he saw me. His wonderful, gorgeous startlingly green eyes. Lily's eyes. "I...your eyes...." I managed to choke out. "Your beautiful eyes...."

Harry bit his lip, "Is she alive?" I tried to hold back a sob as a few tears fell down my face. "Oh...." he said uncomfortably, looking down at the sheet, "I'm really sorry..."

I rushed over to his bedside--he'd obviously gotten the wrong idea. I sat down tentatively, unsure of whether or not he was comfortable with me yet. "No! I mean, we don't know yet, um...son..." I awkwardly patted his arm.

Probably not many of you have been in this situation before, so you wouldn't know, but let me tell you something: it is really awkward and uncomfortable and amazing when you first meet your seventeen-year-old son after having your having been dead for sixteen years. Neither of you know how to react...mostly there's the awe and boundless joy, of course. Then the sadness at having missed out on sixteen years of his life. And the discomfort in the knowledge that you're supposed to be this kid's main role model and he barely knows anything about you, let alone what you don't know about him. It's an unusual situation to be put in, to be sure.

Harry interrupted my thoughts on our newfound relationship with his big puppy eyes, "What if..." he gulped, "I mean...will I have to live at the Dursleys' still? If...if she's not alive, I mean?"

".....What?"

"Well, you probably wouldn't want me around as a reminder of her and everything, so I'd understand if you....wouldn't want me....."

"I...no, no, of course not, Harry." I was shocked by the fact that he thought I'd abandon him at the first sign of difficulty. What had people been telling him about me? "You're my son, and you always will be. You're not the Dursleys' son, and you never were. Don't worry, I won't leave you again." He practically threw himself into my arms.

He...fit. That's the only way I can describe it. I can remember when he was a baby, how I thought that as he got older and grew apart from me, that he'd fit into my arms less, but it didn't see to be true. It was the most amazing thing in my life. Then Mme. Pomfrey had to come in and ruin it all.

"You are endangering your son's fragile health, James Potter!"

"By hugging him I'm endangering his health? Forgive me, but aren't you the same woman who told Lily I'd get her pregnant by touching her, by kissing her?!" I wasn't happy about having my moment with Harry interrupted.

Harry looked slightly disturbed. " I didn't need to know that...."

Mme. Pomfrey glared at him briefly for interrupting our argument. "And just look at who has a son!" She said, turning her attention back to me.

"My god, woman, you're incorrigible! Harry was born four years after you told that to her! And believe me, it was a hell of a lot more than touching that we did! First we--" I was rudely muffled my the old nurse's hand across my mouth as she tried to steer me out of the Hospital Wing.

Suddenly I heard a horribly familiar voice...a voice that had grated at my ears for seven years and more...a voice that I'd hoped I'd never hear again, "You know, I seem to recall a certain James Potter trying to impress the school with his, ahem, private life. I just always assumed that he'd grow out of it as he got older and was no longer in school for it to listen to him. Instead, it seems that he's turned to his young, impressionable, extremely irritating son."

"Snapey!" I cried as I ran over to my old school rival.

"Potter," he replied coldly.

"Out!" Mme. Pomfrey commanded, pointing at the exit.

"But I--" I wasn't about to leave without a fight.

"NO, James," she said firmly, yet again attempting to get me out of the Hospital Wing.

"I'll break you out later, Harry! I swear it!" I called over my shoulder to my son, who still looked extremely confused.

Just as the door was shutting behind me, I heard him say, "Would someone please tell me what is going on here?!"

Snape clasped a hand around my arm as I tried to go back in to explain. "Come. The headmaster wants to see you."

"But I just saw him, I want to stay with Harry!" I whined.

"And I want a pink fuzzy pony. Deal with it." He snarled viciously. It's amazing how quickly old school rivalries can pop up again.

"Well, now that I know what to give you for Christmas, we can move on to McGonnagal."

"Potter...." Snape said warningle.

"A shiny yellow bowtie, perhaps? Or maybe that darling little leather purple miniskirt I saw in that Muggle shop on the way here?" I finally acknowledged my seething compantion, "What do you think, oh-one-of-the-pink-fuzzy-pony?"

"We're here." He muttered between clenched teeth. "The password's chocolate covered meatballs." And he stalked away, muttering about the horrible image of McGonnagal in a leather miniskirt.

A/N: HA! I'm STILL not going to tell you how he's alive! All I'll let you know for right now is that it is in fact James, and not some crazy evil person impersonating him.