Author's Note: Yippee! I'm really getting into this story again. And I've just finished emailing all of my old, wonderful (I love you guys!) reviewers. It's so fun to be doing this again, especially since I rather liked my plot, but didn't quite feel that the writing was good enough. I hope you guys are enjoying the frequent updates, because when school starts up again, they won't be so frequent. But you have a little over a month before my school starts, and my goal for the summer is chapter 10, or so. 'Cept I will be taking a vacation for a week, and sadly won't be able to get any more done until I get back. So this will be the last one you get until then. But hopefully their longer length with sustain you.
Dedications: Yes, there're more.
All of my friends: Because they put up with me every day. Well, almost every day.
You, once again: For returning to this page. I love you very much. I might start stalking you with roses and chocolates. See that face in the window? Yep. 'Tis mine.
Chapter Three: Petunia's Shock and the Return to Godric's Hollow
(In Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's front lawn. Number four, Privet Drive. August 1st 1996. 7:06 a.m.)
Once consolation of time-traveling with Lily and James, Harry discovered, was that he managed to keep his balance this time, due to James's support of both Lily and his son. He'd had his eyes squinted tightly shut, anticipating the fall, and was surprised, although not ungrateful, when it didn't come.
"You two alright?" asked James, looking them both over. Harry nodded and brushed him self off and straightened his robes. Lily, her face tear- stained, shook her head and buried her face deeper into James's robes.
"What's wrong?" he whispered into her hair, as he was cuddling her. She mumbled something, but all James could make out were some squeaky noises and sniffles. He lifted her head by her chin. She looked up at him. Her eyes were puffy, red, and semi-bloodshot, and her cheeks had tear streaks, both wet and dry, running down them. James kissed her forehead.
"Now tell me, without hiding your face or mumbling, why you're so upset," said James softly and patiently.
Lily gaped at him incredulously. "Why am I upset?" she echoed. "Why am I upset?! I'll tell you why! Because he"--she pointed at Harry--"showed up and messed up my life! Everything I had, besides you, James. My baby is gone, I can't go back to my house ever again, and I'm 16 years into the future! Some new life!"
James, although he did understand where she was coming from, gave her one of the worst looks in the world. It read something like, "How in hell can you be so selfish?!"
"Lily, how in hell can you be so selfish?" he said, "Harry was helping us by bringing us here! Would you rather be dead?" Harry felt a rushing pride for his dad and tried to hold back a grin. "And you do still have your baby! He's just grown up!"
Lily looked over at Harry, who was still rather hurt that his mother, whom he thought loved him, had said such a hurtful thing. But he did take into consideration that she was in distress right now, and having to adjust to a new situation, which probably hadn't hit her yet. Her lower lip trembled slightly and she sank to the ground, where she proceeded to bury her face in her own robes and cry. James and Harry looked at one another and James shrugged. Harry, though, leaned down to sit next to Lily.
"Mum?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "are you...okay?" She shook her head. "You wanna tell me why you're crying?" She shook her head again. He poked her. "Mum." She kept on sniffling. He poked her again. "Mum!"
"What?" she moaned, lifting her head. Her eyes were becoming more bloodshot by the minute. She'd need a trip to the ladies' room, not that there was one in the middle of Privet Drive, to clean up.
Harry softened his annoyed look. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
"B-because I f-feel bad," she sniffled.
"About what?"
"S-saying that t-to you."
Harry hugged her. "Don't worry about it. I know you didn't mean it."
Lily smiled at him and pulled him close. "I do love you, Harry. I'm sorry."
She looked down at the boy in her arms. He was nearly the same size as James. And looked almost exactly the same, too. Except, of course, for Lily's eyes, as had been on his baby version. The only other differences between Harry and his father were minor ones, such as the length of his nose, the scar, of course, and whether or not his hands were Lily's or James's.
"This is going to take some getting used to," she commented, looking from James to Harry. James nodded in agreement. He held out a hand for each of them, which they accepted, and he pulled them to their feet.
"So, er, where are we, Harry?" questioned Lily uncertainly.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Do you really want to know?"
"Well, yes," she said, sounding rather like Hermione, "that's why I asked." James gave Harry an odd look. He seemed to be confirming that they were somewhere that Lily wouldn't want to be. Harry tried to signal a 'yes' back to him.
"Oh, it's a surprise, Mum," said Harry evadingly. "Let's go inside."
Lily eyed him suspiciously, but followed him up the walk anyhow, James by her side. She gave him a questioning look to which he responded with a convincing shrug. When they reached the front door, Harry gave them the 'shush!' signal with his fingers, and mimed unlocking the door with his wand, and the shrugged his shoulders to indicate that he couldn't do it. Well, he could do it, just not here. He definitely didn't need another mark on his criminal record.
"Why are you miming?" whispered James. "And why are we being quiet?"
"Because the people inside are asleep," Harry whispered back, "we have to sneak inside without waking them. They shouldn't be up for another hour or so."
"What kind of place is this you live in, Harry," whispered Lily, as James took out his wand in preparation to unlock the door, "where you have to sneak back in? Don't you have a house key?"
Harry snorted. "Yeah, right," he whispered, "they'll give me a house key when Mick Jagger's gob shrinks."
Lily had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop from laughing out loud.
"Alohamora!" hissed James, and a soft click! ensued. Harry peered through the rippley, glass window on the door. No sign of movement. He clasped onto the handle and carefully twisted the door open, making sure that its squeaky hinges didn't make any noise. Harry motioned for them to follow him. James and Lily stepped inside and Lily shut the door behind them.
"Up here!" he whispered, gesturing to the stairs. He tiptoed up, his parents right behind him, trying to minimize the squeaks of the stairs as they ascended.
After what seemed like hours, they reached the top of the stairs and crept down the hall to Harry's bedroom, which, he remembered, was still locked.
"Dad," he whispered, "I need you to unlock this door, too."
James nodded and unlocked it. Harry opened the door and looked around his room. It was the same as he had left it over an hour ago. It was hard to believe that it had only been an hour since he'd woken up from his dream and saved his parents. He looked at them and smiled. He was the happiest person on the face of the Earth.
"Harry, is this your room?" asked Lily, who waited about a half-second before saying, "Of course it must be. It's a mess. Just how your father used to keep his." James's ears went red.
It was true, though; Harry's bedroom was a mess. You could barely see the floor save for the bare spot where the clothes Aunt Petunia had taken to wash had been. His desk was littered with quills, ink, and other desk-like items. The bed was unmade and the sheets were in need of a good washing. His trunk was still open from when he'd rummaged through it for his Invisibility Cloak, and some of its contents had spilled out such as books, parchment--which he was running low on--and his small collection of Weasley sweaters. He was rather fond of them, really.
Lily gave him a look. "I hope whoever you live with doesn't see this. As your mother, I would have given you a good swat on the head for this pigsty."
Harry glared at her. "I like it. It's...me."
"Then you better stop being so messy."
"Oh, leave the boy alone, Lils," implored James. "I like his room, too."
Lily swatted him on the head. "Don't encourage him." Harry walked into his bedroom, followed by Lily, who was followed, in turn, by James. He was making faces behind her back coupled with selected rude gestures. Harry grinned at his dad.
"What's so funny?" asked Lily. She turned around. James smiled innocently at her. Rolling her eyes, she went to help Harry pack his things.
He didn't have many options for carrying his possessions. Just a beat-up old backpack and an equally weary suitcase. Harry lugged the suitcase out of the closet and Lily grabbed the backpack from under his desk. James just stood by the bed, looking around the room.
"So where do you want all of this?" asked Lily, gesturing to a pile of schoolbooks and rolls of parchment with a sweeping hand motion. Harry shrugged.
"Anywhere it'll fit. Just don't scrunch the essays."
Harry, Lily, and occasionally James (when he wasn't ogling Harry's Firebolt), spent the better part of the next hour packing Harry's things and straightening up the cramped old bedroom. Harry didn't like it to be so clean. It felt like being in the rest of the house, which was, thanks to Aunt Petunia, surgically clean. And Harry didn't like the rest of the house. He liked his bedroom. And he liked it messy. Lily, on the other hand, smiled proudly at her work when they were through and casually brushed off her hands and her clothes.
"See, Harry," she said, looking at him, "this"--she gestured to the tidy room--"is how a bedroom should look. And it's how your bedroom will look once you live with us."
Harry cast a beseeching glance towards James, who gave his a dubious look and shook his head. 'Yeah, right,' he mouthed. Lily turned around and glared at him.
"What did you say?" she demanded. James grew sheepish under his wife's piercing stare.
"N-nothing, sweetheart," he said, "I just backed you up with some agreeing gestures, is all." He hopped casually off of the bed, grinning hopefully at her.
Lily cocked an eyebrow; she wasn't buying any of this. "Sure, James." James responded with a nervous chuckle.
Harry, who had his backpack slung over his shoulder with one hand, and his tattered suitcase in the other, said, rather impatiently, "Are you two ready to go yet?"
Lily nodded. "Yes. Sure you have everything, love?"
Harry looked around the room. He had to admit they'd done a good job clearing the place out. All that was left was the furniture and some useless knick-knacks that Harry didn't need. Then he remembered; the pies! They were still under his bed.
"Dad," he said, "could you check under my bed for a big box?"
James nodded and did as he was asked. He grunted a bit, but managed to heave the large box onto Harry's bed.
"This one?" he asked, sounding rather strained.
"Yup," answered Harry. "That's the one."
"What do you keep in there? It's damn heavy."
"It's a box full of pies that my friend's mum sent me," he explained, "They know that I don't get enough to eat over here. That's another reason why I love going back to Hogwarts. They feed you there."
Lily had a somewhat disgusted look on her face. "Who do you live with," she wondered aloud, "that won't feed you properly?"
Harry debated whether he should tell her. He of course didn't know his mother and his aunt's past, and didn't know how deep their resentment for each other laid. So perhaps Lily wouldn't be as miffed as he imagined to find that he lives with her sister and her obese family members.
"Just people," said Harry, repositioning the bag on his shoulder and regripping the suitcase. "Let's go."
"What kind of people?" Lily stepped in front of him, blocking his way. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at him.
"Do you have to give me that look?" he asked. She remained the same. Harry sighed. "I live with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon."
James, who had expected this, didn't react much to the news. He just sat up and watched Lily intently.
"You--you live with my sister?" she asked. "Why?"
"Because all of my other relatives are dead," he said glumly, staring at the floor. Lily put a hand on his shoulder.
"We're here now."
"Hear, hear," piped James, getting up from his seat on the bed and moving beside his wife. "Indeed we are!" Lily, for the first time that day, smiled at him. A real, genuine smile. Harry had to admit that she was pretty for a mum.
"So...do you want to see her? Or are we just going to sneak out?"
"I think I've been through enough stress today, don't you?" laughed Lily. Harry nodded.
"Let's just go, then."
James noticed that they were forgetting something. "What about your trunk?"
"Oh!" Harry turned around. "Well, I can't carry it! My hands are full!"
"And I can't, because I just had--" Lily cut herself off, and she and James exchanged meaningful "Oops!" glances, "--an operation. And I'm not supposed to lift anything heavy."
"Oh, Lily," said James, walking past her. "You don't have to carry it! Wingardium Leviosa!"
The trunk lifted a few feet off of the ground and James steered it towards the door.
"Come on!" He said, leading the way. He steered the trunk down the staircase, Harry and Lily at his heels.
Harry wondered what Lily had meant when she said "I just had--". He didn't believe her for a moment about the operation. Not after the looks she and James gave each other. Besides, if she'd just had an operation, then why was she lugging baby Harry around all the time. Harry had to admit--he'd been a rather big baby. Not fat, just big. Perhaps it was because Lily was so tiny and it just made him look big. Who knew? As for the 'operation', Harry definitely had to look into that.
A high-pitched squeal brought Harry out of his reverie. They had been just about to open the front door when it emitted from upstairs. Aunt Petunia, flanked by Vernon and Dudley, were standing at the top of the staircase eyeing the Potters (and the floating trunk) with extreme disgust.
"Who are these people?!" barked Uncle Vernon, who had never seen Lily or James in his life, and was quite clueless on the matter. Aunt Petunia, though, stood there in shock, staring at her little sister as if she were some kind of deadly germ. "And why have you got your things packed? There're two months left before school starts."
"I know," said Harry, "and I'm spending them with my parents."
Now it was Uncle Vernon's turn to gape at him. He looked like a pig in his pajamas and cap, gaping at him like a brainless idiot. Which he was. James was rather amused. As was Harry. But Lily looked nervous. Harry could tell that she was having a hard time keeping direct eye contact with the Dursleys; she looked up at them for a second or two, and then looked over at the walls, seemingly admiring the pictures of Dudley and Petunia.
"Lily?" breathed Petunia, moving past her husband and son and slowly descending the staircase. "Is that really you?"
Sheepishly, Lily nodded.
"But...but how? Why? When?" She then averted her gaze to Harry. "It was you, wasn't it? I knew something weird was up yesterday. Those owls. They weren't bringing you schoolwork. Your society is plotting against me. They brought...her...back."
Lily went red and stared down at the floor, feeling sad. James switched his wand to his right hand and put his left in hers. She smiled gratefully.
"Don't you insult my mum!" snapped Harry. "What did she ever do to you?"
Aunt Petunia raised an eyebrow, stepping the rest of the way down the stairs, she and Harry not taking their gaze off of one another.
"What did she ever do to me?" echoed Aunt Petunia. Harry could feel another rant coming on. "Just look at her!" cried Aunt Petunia, gesturing with her hand, "does she look anything like me?"
"Er...no," Harry said, "but what does that--"
"Exactly. She was the one to inherit our mother's looks, while I took more after our father. I'm the plain one and Lily could be a model if she wanted to. That caused some of the resentment. Then, during the summer she turned eleven, that--that---(she seemed to be incapable of saying 'Hogwarts')-- school wrote to her and said she was magical. And then she met you"--she indicated James--"and ran off to get married."
"I did not run off!" shrieked Lily indignantly. James squeezed her hand for comfort. "You make it sound like I'm some promiscuous little--"
"And finally, she got pregnant with you, Harry. She had her looks, her magic, her husband, and her perfect little baby. Lily got everything."
"So...you're jealous?" asked Harry bluntly. Aunt Petunia stuck her nose in the air.
"I never said that."
"Really, now?" asked James. "Because that's what your whole rant sounded like to me."
"No. I merely said that Lily got everything she wanted, and I'm stuck with a normal life," clarified Petunia.
James and Harry raised their eyebrows at her. "Then why have you always been so negative towards magic?"
Aunt Petunia tried to give herself a dignified look to make her look intelligent and to stall for time. "I couldn't bear the thought of anyone finding out about Lily. Then my only chance at a normal life would be ruined. I'd be mocked and ridiculed for the rest of my days."
Frankly, James was getting tired of his sister-in-law's melodramatic tendencies. He wanted to end this conversation as soon as humanly possible. ASAHP.
"Sorry to put the damper on your Filibuster Firework," said James, trying to sound apologetic, "but we have to get home. We've got a lot of unpacking to do."
He opened the front door with his free hand and levitated the trunk through it. He put a hand on Lily's shoulder to hurry her and she walked out the door without even a good-bye. Harry, struggling under the weight of the backpack and suitcase, staggered out the door behind them.
"It's about time you left!" he heard Vernon call. The door slammed shut behind them and the glass rattled dangerously.
"What...lovely people you've lived with Harry," commented James sardonically. "I'll make it up to you," he muttered out of the side of his mouth as he passed him.
"So how're we getting home?" asked Harry. "With all this stuff, I mean."
"There's only one way," conceded James. "We have to make a Portkey."
"No, James!" intervened Lily. "I just got to this decade and you're not getting us thrown into jail so soon." Harry gave his mother an odd look, at which she grinned.
"We won't get caught," said James confidently. He slipped out of one of his shoes and then gently lowered the trunk to the pavement, careful not to let the box of pies slide off of the top.
"Colloportus!" uttered James, sealing the box to the surface of the trunk with an odd, squelching noise. "That ought to hold it for the trip."
James mumbled something and then pointed the wand at his shoe. "Portus! Alright, now both of you secure your belongings and keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times. This agency is not responsible for any losses you may or may not experience while--" Lily glared. "Would you stop being a moron?" James grinned at her.
"Certainly, M'dear. Anything for you." Lily turned slightly pink, but said, "Oh, just get on with it."
"Touch the shoe on the count of three. One...two...three!"
Once again, Harry felt a tug at his navel and he was pulled forward at an incredibly high speed. He opened his eyes slightly and observed what he could of the scenery that was zooming past. He could see swirls of green, brown, blue and white. He assumed it was the countryside they were soaring over. All too soon, they came to a complete stop and fell to the ground in front of a very familiar looking house.
It was the house at Godric's Hollow.
It looked a lot different in the daylight. Or perhaps it was just because, technically, it was fifteen years into the future, and the house hadn't been used in a long while. And obviously hadn't been kept up. The lawn was overgrown, the shed, which was on the side of the house, needed repainting, and the driveway needed to be re-paved, as there seemed to be plants coming up from underneath the concrete, and it was now cracked in several places.
"Well, it certainly looks fifteen years older," remarked Lily, walking past her husband and son with a backwards glance.
James just rolled his eyes. "She's only annoyed at us for last night. She'll get over it. Once we fix her precious house."
Harry and James brought the trunk and pies, and backpack and suitcase up to the front door.
"Open it, Lil," urged James. She cautiously extended her hand and grabbed the doorknob. It needed replacing too. The copper coating had gone green except for a few spots. She turned it and pushed the door open. A cloud of dust rose into the air and they all coughed and swooshed their arms around in an attempt to clear it. Once it settled, they stepped inside and Harry laid his luggage down. As did James.
The house looked pretty much the same, except for the fact that it had multitudes of dirt and grime caked nearly everywhere. Harry prayed that he wouldn't have to use the bathroom tonight. Everything was in exactly the same place as last night. Nothing had been touched at all.
"This will take ages to clean," whined Lily. "And we'd just finished moving in four months ago!"
"Don't fret, Mum," said Harry with a grin. "You have more help this time."
So for the next two weeks, the house took up nearly all of the Potters' time. They did most everything themselves except for the driveway, which they hired someone to take care of, and the "super dust" as Harry called it. It was just far too much for Lily to handle, and James had taken pity on her and hired cleaners.
They bought entirely new furniture since all of theirs was either rotten, molded, or stained. Or all three. James and Lily, Harry noted, got into the stupidest of fights. Their new furniture was the most recent one. Wherever James wanted it, Lily didn't. And when they put it Lily's way, everything was too cramped. Lily didn't like it when James got his way and was in a bitter mood for the rest of the day.
The painting was where they had the most fun. Nearly all the rooms had to be repainted. The cleaners could get the dust and grime away, sure, but removing the stains, they claimed, was a whole other issue. They wanted extra for it. James had refused, respectfully, and insisted on simply painting the walls himself. So of course, Lily had to join in. And Harry didn't like to miss out on time with his parents, so he joined as well. The painting was probably the part that took the longest out of all the jobs. Each room needed about 2-3 coats and painting was very tiring.
Thank God they had finished. It was something that Harry was very glad for. Not that he didn't enjoy splattering his mum with paint, or listening to James's random outbursts of "Stop! Paint, stop the dripping! I can't take it anymore!" But one does grow exhausted.
He had just gotten out of the shower and dressed in his summer night clothes which he'd neglected to remove from his trunk all summer. It just occurred to them that Aunt Petunia still had his clothes at her house.
Harry, though worn out from painting, still didn't feel like heading up to bed just yet. It was very windy upstairs, as James had turned on loads of fans to air out the paint smell, and Harry didn't need the breeze and wet hair. He slid down the stair railing and hopped off onto the newly steamed carpet, which still felt warm beneath his feet. He could hear someone in the kitchen and crept silently through the living room to check it out. It smelled rather like chocolate as he got nearer to the kitchen.
It was Lily. She was sitting at the kitchen table in her pajamas. Sipping hot chocolate. In the middle of August. He stepped fully into view and the cool tiles made him shiver.
"Mum?" She turned her head.
"Hmm?"
"Have you lost it?"
"You know, I asked myself the same question on my wedding day," she said, smiling.
"I'm serious!" he informed her. "Why are you drinking hot chocolate in the summer time?"
"Because she's insane," came a voice from behind Harry. He turned to see his father, also in pajamas, smiling at his family.
"You're one to talk," she said, sipping at her cocoa.
James gave her a "very funny" look. "And I heard what you said about our wedding day. You meanie." He sniffled and covered his face with his hands, pretending to cry.
"Aww!" she cooed in mock sympathy. "Does Jamie want a hug?"
"Mmm hmm!" he nodded. Lily set her cocoa down on the table and held her arms out for him, which he gladly accepted. She kissed him.
"Alright," said Harry, "no one wants to see you two snog."
"We didn't ask you to stare," said Lily, who was having her neck kissed by James. Harry mimed vomiting and Lily gave him the one finger salute. "How do you think you got here?" she asked.
That was the final straw for Harry. He left the kitchen immediately. No one needed those kind of images.
A GINORMOUS domo to my reviewers!
Piper of Locksley - I do not. Lezzy! Glad you liked the chappie. And I've seen plenty of one-year-olds who can say "Mummy" thank you.
LJstagflower4e/JCtigerwolf4e - Aww! Becca! I'm touched! I really am! Hehe, and I'm glad you liked the note. I thought it was funny too. It was kind of a rotten deal for them, but hey, you know how it ends. ::wink::
Nastygurl - You're welcome! I'm glad you like it! Thank you for the compliment!
Megan