Chapter One

"I wish none of this had ever happened to me!" Harry screamed, standing, erect, glaring at Dumbledore. The office was in disarray to the extreme. Silver little instruments and gizmos lay in millions of tiny pieces on the floor, causing the carpet to appear to be glittering. Dumbledore's thoughts, once kept in a pensieve, pooled beneath a tipped-over foot rest, past memories swirling in the liquid. Glass panes were shattered, candlesticks overturned, and Fawkes's stand had fallen. Dumbledore sighed, looking over his half-moon spectacles at the teenage boy.

"All right, then. There is a way we can do this." Harry stared at him. He flicked his wand, and a flash of blue light filled the room.

Harry Potter woke up in a strange room. He was tucked under the covers, and he was quite warm. He didn't want to get out of bed. "Morning, Harry!" called a cheery voice. Harry opened his eyes, but his vision was blurred. Sitting up, he reached for his glasses and placed them on his nose, allowing him to see the speaker.

Harry's jaw dropped.

It was his father, James Potter, alive and well.

"Dad?" James grinned at his son.

"Yes?" Harry, shocked and amazed, leapt out of bed and tackled his father in a hug. "Nice to see you, too!" he exclaimed, wondering what was wrong with his son. "Harry, what's wrong?" he asked, concerned. Tears were pouring down his cheeks.

He shook his head, grinning. "Nothing. Just a bad dream, is all. Where's mum?" he asked. James laughed.

"She's downstairs. We've got a surprise for you!"

Harry bounded downstairs and skidded into the kitchen. "Morning, Mum!" he exclaimed, cheerfully.

"Morning, Harry! You got a letter!" Harry was bursting with excitement. But Lily Evans Potter did not walk in. Instead came...

"Mrs. Weasley?" he gasped, dropping the piece of toast he'd picked up. She gave him a funny look.

"She's fine. Her fever reduced this morning. Harry, are you alright?" Harry shook his head, blinking a few times, just to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

He wasn't.

Before him stood plump Mrs. Weasley, holding out a letter to him. "Mum?" he said, hesitantly.

"Yes, dear...?" Harry jumped up and ran to the bathroom. He gasped at what he saw in the mirror. He had messy black hair, round glasses (which weren't broken), and, rather than bright green eyes, he had big brown eyes.

Pushing up his bangs, Harry saw...

Nothing.

There was no lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. His father was alive and well. But Mrs. Weasley, or whatever her real name was, was his mother. Stepping out of the bathroom, he saw his father and his..."mum" staring at him, looking concerned.

"Um, you said I got a...letter?" Harry asked, hesitantly, breaking the silence.

"Oh, yes!" Molly said, remembering. She handed it to him. "Oh, and where do you want to go today?" she continued, as he broke the seal.

"Go...?" he asked, reading it. It was his letter from Hogwarts.

"Yes, of course, dear. Today's your birthday!"

"My...my birthday?" he stammered.

"Did you forget?" James asked, snickering.

"But-but today's the twenty-fifth of June!" His parents stared at him. "Tha-that's my birthday, isn't it..."

"Harry, dear, are you ill?" Molly asked, feeling his forehead.

"No, I'm fine, Mum. I just had a really weird dream, and it confused me, that's all," Harry muttered. "When can we go to Diagon Alley?" Molly laughed.

"We can go after you've eaten something! You need to eat! You're such a skinny boy!" Harry ate, obediently, and then raced for the door.

"Harry, where are you going?" James called. Harry turned. Both his parents were standing by the fireplace, looking at him, expectantly.

"Oh, right. I forgot..." he muttered. His parents watched him, worryingly. It was clear that they thought their son was going crazy. They Floo-powdered to Diagon Alley, and when Harry tumbled into the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron, a thought occurred.

"Mum, what's Mrs. Weasley's first name?" Harry asked.

"Penny."

"Oh. Are we going to see them today?"

"Yes. Arthur is bringing the twins to get their school supplies." Hallelujah. The twins. Perhaps he could confide in Fred and George. They could help, maybe.

"Ah, speak of the devil. Arthur!" James called.

Arthur Weasley turned, tall, and balding as usual. His clothes, however, were in a better state than before.

But where were the twins...?

"Harry! Did you get accepted at Hogwarts, too?" Harry was nearly strangled by 'the twins.'

"Yes."

"Don't sound so excited!" Parvati teased. Parvati and Padma Patil--Weasley, Harry corrected himself—stood in front of him.

"Sorry, guys, but, uh, I'm having a bit of an off day." Padma reached up and felt his forehead.

"Well, you don't have a fever. Come on, let's go to Florence Fortescue's Ice Cream. That will probably perk you up a bit. Dad?" Mr. Weasley turned to his twin daughters.

"We're going to take Harry to get some ice cream. He's feeling a bit under the weather," Parvati said.

Nodding, Mr. Weasley handed the girls some money, and they dragged Harry off to the ice cream shop.

"Hello, girls. What can I get for you?" The twins grinned up at Mr. Fortescue.

"We need two strawberry peach cones, and a chocolate-peanut butter swirl for Harry. He's feeling off today." Mr. Fortescue grinned down at Harry and disappeared, coming back with their orders.

"Thanks, you guys," Harry said, slurping his ice cream. They walked the street, the girls window shopping, while Harry was deep in thought.

What had happened? He pondered this. He remembered a blue light, but that was all.

Ironic, really, that in Harry's first life, all he could remember was a green light, and in his second, it was a blue light. Of course, Harry didn't remember this fact at all. That morning, when he woke up, he'd remembered everything, and was very confused. But his memory slipped away without him noticing. All he knew was the blue light, and that something was not quite right.

It was like walking into your own bedroom, where you know every single stick of furniture, every single brushstroke of paint, every single tissue in the trashcan--and yet there's a gut feeling in your stomach that's telling you that something is different.

"Harry!" He looked up. It was his mum. "Go into Madame Malkin's and get your robes fitted! Your father and I will be in Flourish and Blotts!" Harry nodded and entered Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions.

"Hogwarts, dearie?" a woman asked, presumably Madame Malkin. Harry nodded. "Stand up on that stool," she instructed. Harry stood on the stool, next to a pale boy with blonde hair and icy blue eyes.

"Morning, Potter," the boy drawled. It was Draco Malfoy, whom Harry didn't like at all.

"Morning, Malfoy," he replied.

"How're the twins? They're looking fabulous today," Draco replied, glancing out the window where the twins were looking in. He winked, and they giggled. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I highly suggest you refrain from talking about them like that," Harry warned. Draco smirked.

"Jealous, Potter?"

"Nope. Just playing the part of over-protective brother."

"That would work except for the tiny flaw that you are not their brother."

"No, but I won't have some insufferable git talking about them as if they were a prize, rather than two girls," Harry replied, coolly. Draco smirked at him.

"Sure thing, Potter."

"You're done, dear," Madame Malkin said. Harry stepped off the stool and hurried out, new robes in hand.

"Have a nice chat with Draco?" Parvati asked, giggling. Harry rolled his eyes.

"No, actually, I didn't."

"He is so cute!" Padma added. Harry rolled his eyes again, and the trio entered Flourish and Blotts, finding their parents immediately. Draco followed minutes later.

"Females," Harry muttered, as Draco left the bookshop, one twin on each arm. It would be a long day.