Nox

A/N: all right, more points to address

Shortly after(and by that I mean a few hours) posting this story I was struck with the sudden ambition to start another(hahahahaha). I'm not sure if one is going to be more balanced than the other. I guess it's going to depend on the response I get. Anyway, it's of course called "Living the Dream" as it is evident by looking at my bio. I actually like the plot of this one, even if it is a very vague beginning. But bear with me.

Since this is AU and James is alive the characters are going to be a little different. Harry, obviously since he didn't live through Hell but he's only escaping one problem....Remus Lupin, Sirius Black(if they make an appearance...um, and others that would be greatly affected by the Potters would of course also be different since they didn't spend the last sixteen years practically destitute of their real lives.

DracoScrewer:aww...you've read my other stories. Hehe...I feel special

Dannys Girrrl: hehe..Time will all tell all, child. Time will tell all...

And as for those who I DELETED...I AM SO SORRY and I hope that you're still reading this. But I received the email notifications just the same.

Katrina: Short and sweet, very lovely.

Ingrid-Potter: And that I shall, Miss Potter.

Kirina: Hm. You're going to be one of those special reviewers that every adolescent Harry Potter fanfiction writer has aren't you? Very brilliant...very brilliant ::strokes chin::: Well, as I said, all shall be answered in time...I just need to figure it out for myself first. hehe

::clearsthroat::, so anyway, here it is.

Living the Dream: Facing the Nightmare Nearly Perfect

Chapter 2: Merlin Cast

When the smoke started to attract the attention of the neighboring muggles, the Ministry started in a haste. The flames on the small house were out, but the smoking ash was ridiculous. Finally, in a frustrated exhaustion, sect. 43 of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement which was the only body available on Hallow's Eve subsided their resistance and put a mere concealment charm on the whole mess and left it for morning. Being nothing but advanced trainees, the lot of them hoped there would be no penalty for not finishing the job, as severe as it was. No, that little house was not going to be saved, and they knew it.

Not many of the young group was too familiar with the Potters, but there were some who had heard their parents telling tales of the high regard or an act of kindness done by the family. Others had even somehow crossed their paths once or twice. It was known that Lily and James were "damn fine people" and the most loving parents that walked this earth, as are most. Some walked away morose that night, and some stopped being children. It was a good fight, this light and dark business. But until then they had never seen injustice up close. It was a time to open their eyes, because this was far from over and considerably mild.

The Prophet seemed to like it pretty well. The story headed strong for about two weeks and drizzled for a few more. "Not since the loss of Potter has there been such a travesty..." "Another reason to mourn in addition to the hideous events that occurred just last Halloween..." "What is becoming of our safe world?" Or so it went in the papers.

Lily Potter died instantly, straight away. There was no pain, only terror. What happened exactly that night wasn't known nor was it questioned for a surprisingly long duration. There was a body, thus a story. Thus, a loss of a human being and part of another's soul. James Potter wasn't heard of for a very long time after the incident. In fact, some construed that me may have died as well, and his body just was not found. But he revealed himself, almost a year later stating that he had just "been with some friends" finding again...some peace. If he could remember what that was again.

There were several other lives changed that night. Millicent Bagnold, the serving Minister of Magic of the time, was discredited horribly for not being aware of any Death Eater activity and later resigned after holding the position by a thread for nine full years.

For the first time in all his one hundred fifty years Albus Dumbledore felt very old that night. Most assuredly, the Secret Keeper would keep them safe...Dumbledore was human and he made mistakes. But never in the entirety of his life did he think he would choose to make such a bad one.

Peter Pettigrew was scared shitless. He had done it. He officially declared himself a traitor. It wasn't that he had any regrets, of course not. He lived. Surely his dear friends would understand that. If they thought about it...oh...shit.

Sirius Black was pissed. With a vengeance only a best friend/godfather could possess he fought tooth and nail to go after Peter that night, and physically he could have very well walked out that door to ruin his life forever, if it meant Peter's was over. But seeing the feebly shocked and injured James, Jamie, Jim, Jimmy boy, fighting painfully in his uncharacteristic state of mess for him not to go, Sirius remained at his bedside at St. Mungos that night. Vowing a curse on Peter's head, he knew the chances of finding him would never be as good. Sirius Black was pissed...and hurt beyond recognition.

Lord Voldemort lost everything. His infamies, his infallibility, his imminence, his precious power. Barely spirit enough to think, it was all he could comprehend. Luckily, it was all the spite he needed to survive.

Harry Potter was thirsty that night. He was a little hungry, too. And his eyes still hurt from that big flash of light from before. He still saw spots. Something on his face was leaking, and an old woman who didn't smell anything like his Mommy kept wiping at it on his forehead. He had another tooth growing, and he wanted his Mommy to make the ickiness go away by waving that funny little stick that she and Daddy always had. He was a year and three months old, after all. All he wanted was his Mommy.

And yes, there is another soul that was never the same after that night. There is another life forever altered. But that certain person, I suppose, is who we are here to learn about.

After eleven hours of experience, sixteen year old, Harry didn't feel any different. Three hours after James had flew out the door Harry had begun to come to terms with the reality of this whole birthday ordeal. He had a feeling he wasn't doing it right.

Girls examine themselves in the mirror. Harry was making observations. He was looking for proof that he actually indeed was a sixteen year old mate.

Harry had accepted that he was no Cedric Diggory or Oliver Wood (who still had the power to make girls swoon just by his mere memory) long ago. However, to his slight horror, it had seriously begun to bugger him lately.

He hated his hair which no amount of Sleekeasy's hair potion could tame. And to be Frank, he was sick of the mirrors reminding him. He didn't have a mother, so he really didn't want any "motherly" criticism. Except maybe if it was from Mrs. Weasley, but only Mrs. Weasley. James was constantly offering Harry to buy him new spectacles, perhaps more like his, but the gestures go declined. Harry didn't mind the thick black lenses no matter how out of style they may be. But the main reason was because Harry honestly didn't think it'd do any good. His eyes were bad. Too bad for him. Get over it.

No boy wants to be skinny. But Harry couldn't help it. It was beyond both him and (though slightly more appreciating) James how the two of them could eat what they do and not look like Hagrid. Harry recalled the topic being brought up on one of his routine check-ups at St. Mungos when he was younger. Dr. Pobbelo only smiled kindly and said, "fast metabolism."

Harry frowned at his reflection. Fast metabolism...right. He would never admit it aloud, but once when he was younger he ate nothing but Honeydukes and butterbeer for two weeks. Well, chances were once every four days he would get sick and by the time fourteen days were up he had lost a pound. So that didn't work.

He could build muscle, but the truth was he hated lifting weights. In fact, Harry really wasn't interested in any sports besides quidditch, and that didn't exactly entail lifting heavy objects. I could switch to beater. Harry thought bitterly. It wasn't that he disliked the position, he just left the Quaffle to James. Realistically, he could never give up seeker. Not on his life.

So really, there wasn't any one thing about himself that Harry disliked. It was more of the cumulative effect. Perhaps it was the little things. If only his hair was neater...If he was just a few inches taller... If only his sight was a little bit better...If only, if only, if only. If only his flesh wouldn't conform to his biceps every time he moved. He watched Reflection Harry demonstrate and grimaced.

"Well, that's great if I was a girl."He whispered angrily aloud. Brow relaxing slightly, he dropped his arms in defeat. He supposed, like it or not, this was the way he was and it was about time he accepted it. He laughed a sigh and shook his head. He was acting like a girl.

"So what d'you do all day?" Bella asked as she cleared the table after their chocolate cake, which for the first time in recent memory did not taste like it had just come out of storage after several years. "Just sit around and wait until five o' clock?"

"Not exactly." James grinned. "Sometimes I only wait until four thirty." But Mrs. Figg only shook her head. James had not yet informed his son of his taken vacation days. He couldn't just yet...

"That boy...," she muttered.

"What about my boy?"

Arabella sighed and stood up straight from where she was cleaning crumbs off the table. After a few experimental tries of opening her mouth and closing it again with audible clicks, James got restless.

"Merlin's Beard, Bella! Just say it." There was humor in his voice, but it was mingled with real curiosity.

"Jimmy, you know I love you." She stated low and almost alarmingly serious. "But Harry needs..."

"Harry needs what?" James snapped impatiently after a moment of silence. If there was one nerve to be touched in all of Jamie Potter's being, it was Harry. Bella looked at him solemnly but spoke gently.

"Now hold your Hippogriff's, James. It's not as if I'm about to state you're a horrible father-"

"Well, you're sure acting like it." Uh oh, James was getting that glare in his eye.

"James, would you listen, please? Harry is turning sixteen today. Sixteen, James."

"I know, Bella. I was kind of there when he was born. I may be a little off but I've held some account of the days that have passed since then."

"James, did you happen to catch that article in Witch Weekly?"

"What about that article?!" James was getting mad, now. She had better not be implying...

"I just wondered if you had stopped mocking it for a moment to actual consider its credibility." She was remaining calm. That made one of them.

"It's CREDIBILITY?!" He was livid now. "It's credibility?! Are you completely mad, Arabella? There is no credibility to be had!"

"Calm. Down." The old lady was soft to stern. "You are risking your life out there, James. And I know that it doesn't feel like it, but there's another life pretty important to you that depends on your very being. Sometimes I really don't think that you get that-or Harry. You both are so concerned with everyone else's well being that you don't even see what devastation it would cause if anything happened to either of you. Its ridiculous, really. Harry needs support. And he needs you to let him support you. It's what a family does, James. You and Harry are one of the best families out there, don't Umbridge it all up now."

For the fourth time in all his thirty-six years, James Potter was speechless.

Bella sighed. "You don't quite get it, do you?" She stared at his handsome face, now hardened. "This is such a difficult time in his life. Yes, I know," she added as he opened his mouth to protest, "you were sixteen, too. But times have changed, and despite the striking resemblance you and Harry you can be quite different."

"We're not all that different."James murmured, suddenly intrigued by his shoes.

"No, no you're not." She conceded. "You're both in a dead tie for the best damn quidditch players to ever bear the Gryffindor crest." She punctuated the sentence with a little bit of pride by puffing out her small bosom. "You're both dashing young men." She softened. "And you're both some of the most loyal, kind and generally wonderful people in the wizarding world." At James silence, she leaned in closer and added in a whisper, "So go to him. He needs you more than he lets on." With that, she gathered the last of the plates and headed into the kitchen.

James didn't spend more than four seconds remaining in the chair before he had his work robes back on(and buttoned correctly) and was striding out the door thinking of a good excuse to tell his son that would explain a half a day of work in a very impulsive job. Bella watched him leave her quaint little house, walk down the narrow buttercup accentuated pathway and down their street to his own quant little bachelor pad.

"Just like you need him." The little old lady of Nottinghamshire whispered into the air finding herself praying for her dear old friends once again, and Merlin cast it'd do more good than the last time.

A/N(again): Okay, I'm getting to all the details in time. Gee, I sure use that word a lot don't I?

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lumos