A/N: Yes! A new angsty fan fic! Ok, this is going to be super angsty and unpredictable. Just a warning, be aware of the plot twists. And there WILL be romance, but I want to wait until everyone gets settled. So just be patient. And I'm just not going to tell you who will be falling for each other, but it won't be scary or anything. It won't be like Snape/Lily or anything; that would just be sick. No offense to Snape/Lily shippers.

Summary: "Now you have to understand that when a man loses everything, morals and laws kind of disappear. So I plead insanity as to why a 16 year old Lily Evans was resurrected in my bedroom." After the final battle, Harry is slightly senile, and recreates his mother out of loneliness. Of course, he didn't exactly think about the possible effects of this, and didn't realize that the spell he used was permanent, and that she would have to finish her education at Hogwarts with Remus as a teacher.

So read and review, I would like some feedback as to where you all want this to go. My plot's kind of rough as of now. And each chapter will be from a different POV. Obviously I will be starting with Harry.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything that you will recognize. Please don't ask me.

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My Past, His Present, Your Future

Chapter 1: Harry

I'll say now that I'm not proud of what I did. With no regards to the law or to the feelings of those around me I willingly made the biggest mistakes of my life. And yet even now as I say these things, I will never regret what I did. I will say this in my defense: I was lonely. Hermione and Ron had settled down together, with Hermione working as an unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries and Ron was playing for the Chudley Cannons. I hardly ever saw them anymore anyway; our lives were just too different.

Ron was still Ron, my best friend. He still had freckles and a gangly and yet muscular frame. He had retained his sense of humor after the war. Hermione too had gone back to being happy and obsessed with research and learning. My best friends in the world seemed like the perfect picturesque couple, famous but not stalked by the paparazzi like I was. Sure they had played a huge part in the final battle and their lives had been changed, but not as much as mine.

Maybe I'm not giving them enough credit. After all, Ginny had been Ron's sister. The Weasley family had suffered huge loss when their youngest had been tortured and murdered in battle. I can still see Mr. Weasley's tearful speech at the funeral. His eyes had glittered as he had said his final goodbye to his only daughter, weeping openly along with everyone else. Everyone except one person: Me.

The loss of a lover is said to be the most painful thing a man can go through. Anyone who says that couldn't have felt half as bad as I did as I looked down one last time at my peaceful Ginny before I closed her casket. Having to watch her bite back a scream as she'd been tortured and knowing that it was done because of me had split whatever was left of my sanity into shards. Voldemort had given me a choice, I hand over his final horcrux or watch her writhe under Crucio, seeing her take her last breath as tears slid trails down her pale face. She had shaken her head, don't choose me Harry. It was the most difficult thing I have ever done, knowing if I chose Ginny's life I would cause the loss of so many more. 'Hero's make sacrifices everyday,' one of my teachers had told me. But I didn't want to be a hero! I wanted to be normal, have a wife and a baby. Grab my briefcase and a cup of coffee in the morning, then Apparate to work, where I would sit behind a desk and sort through paperwork.

But even before I lost her, even before I'd condemned her fate, I knew I would play hero. I always had played hero, and I could never escape it. My choice had already been made; I couldn't save her.

When sitting at a funeral, all someone wants is a family member to hug him or her and whisper something soothing in his or her ear. But as I looked down at my fallen angel no one came forward to comfort the Man-Who-Won. No person had wrapped their arms around me in a fierce hug and allowed me to curl up inside them. I really couldn't blame them, Hermione and Ron had each other, and the Weasleys were a family, but I had no one left. I said my final goodbyes to Ginevra Molly Weasley on my own, before curling up inside myself.

That's not to say that absolutely no one understood. During one of the later skirmishes between Aurors and Death Eaters, Tonks had been murdered by none other than Peter Pettigrew. Remus also rattled around 12 Grimmauld Place without a cause during the summer, when he wasn't teaching DADA at school, distraught and lost. We lived together in silent understanding; don't ask questions, because you won't get any answers.

So what does a reluctant hero do when he has nowhere to go and nothing to do? He busies himself. I researched death and dark magic tirelessly after the war ended, just looking for something. I don't even know what I thought I would find. But I found it. I wanted a parent, someone to comfort me and coo in my ear, someone to listen to me and make me hot coco, rub my back until I fell asleep. I found how to get that through a very shabby book in the back of the Black family library.

Now you have to understand that when a man loses everything, morals and laws kind of disappear. Things just don't matter anymore, and as I sat in the magic circle I'd created in my bedroom reciting the spell the book had listed, it didn't even occur to me the effect my actions would take. So I plead insanity and loneliness as to why sixteen-year-old Lily Evans suddenly appeared in my bedroom in the middle of August.

The ancient Mauvais spell hadn't been preformed for centuries, and for good reason. When it was used there was only a 5 success rate, and the other 95 always included the death of the spell caster. However none of this meant anything to me, I would welcome death. And so I sat in my circle of candles with a picture of my mother Sirius had given me and preformed one of the most dangerous spells ever created, therefore recreating my mother.

I didn't resurrect her, per say, I merely copy-pasted her. The Mauvais spell finds when the person was happiest and duplicates them at that age in your time. I wasn't changing the past, only working in the present. She had all her memories up until October of her sixth year, and was an actual living breathing human being. She would age normally because she was the real thing.

I remember the candles had flickered as if I had left a window open and I looked around, waiting to something to happen. I raised a hand to flatten down my hair in anxiety, worrying about whether I had done something wrong. Had I pronounced something incorrectly? Hermione had always said that one wrong syllable would cause the whole spells affect to change. What if the ministry had detected the spell and flattened it before it could take affect? Would I get sent to Azkaban? Could I have brought back the wrong person?

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I reluctantly opened them I feared what I might see. There, lying asleep across the moth-eaten carpet, was my mother in her pajamas. She looked so much like the pictures, yet so much different, her deep red hair falling elegantly across her face, and her cheek pressed against the floor. I was painfully reminded of my Ginny. I swear I could have watched her for hours. But predictably, I couldn't, because she woke up. It was almost comical to see her stretch languidly, her back on the carpet. Finally she cracked an eye, blinking as she took in the dimly lit room. I gasped, what everyone had said was true, her eyes were just like mine. Those eyes widened in shock as she saw me. I couldn't blame her when she started screaming bloody murder.

"Damn it Potter, how in Merlin's name did you get into the girl's dorms again?" I laughed to myself quietly. She sat up in alarm and glared at the candles. "Is this some type of sick joke? This time you've taken things too far! Where have you taken me?" I smiled, she was talking to me! My mother who I was never supposed to meet was talking to me! Granted, she thought I was my father, but still! Lily stood up, towering above me even in bare feet. "Well? Explain yourself, Potter!" I blinked at her, at a loss of what to say. She groaned in frustration, her eyes narrowing as she saw the book open in front of me. "My god Potter, what spell where you about to use? Is this one of your twisted Marauder pranks? Is it?" This was surreal.

"Hi," I said pitifully, my eyes wide with amazement.

"Is that all you have to say? 'Hi?' Wait until Professor McGonagall hears about this, I hope you get a lot more than detention," she spat, sweeping her hair back from her eyes with a wave of her hand. Cool. Hr red and gold flannel pajamas made her green eyes stand out against her warm complexion. I took it all in, from her purple painted toenails, the hole in the knee of her pants, and the mismatched buttons in the wrong holes, to her unpeirced ears and glowering mouth. Somewhere among my fascinated stare she realized that I was not James Potter and mumbled, "James doesn't have scars." Fortunately I did not have to answer my confused mother because the last remaining Marauder stuck his head through my door.

"Harry, what on earth is going on up-," he started before he was interrupted, somehow not noticing the red headed spitfire currently trying to figure out who I was. Of course, she had looked up at the sound of his voice and immediately spoke, her voice small.

"Remus?" He jerked his head in her direction, his face paling considerably as he identified her. "My god, is that you? You look so different!" He entered the room completely, staying close to the wall as she took a hesitant step forward.

"Lily?" She frowned in shock at the state of his scrappy robes and slightly graying hair.

"You're an adult?" she whispered, before turning to look at me. "And he looks like James…" Her voice trailed off as she fainted, falling cleanly backwards, thankfully not in the direction of the still burning candles. Remus was faster than I and pulled out his wand to magically catch her before her head hit the floor and then lowered her gently onto her back on the ground. Then, looking angrier than I'd seen him since Tonks died, he turned to me and yelled,

"Harry James Potter, what did you do?"

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Remus has only been furious three times in his life from what I have been old. The first was with Sirius when the animagus tricked Snape to go down into the Whomping Willow. The second was when Peter murdered Tonks just before the final battle. The third was with me. When we were out in the hallway after he had carefully laid Lily on my bed and silencioed the door, he whirled around, absolutely seething.

"Explain." The thing about Remus was that when he lost his temper, he either got violent or very snarky and quiet. In my case it was the latter, even more frightening. He stood with his arms folded as I did my best to summarize the spell I had used, but I didn't state my reason why I had done what I had in the first place.

"I'm guessing you chose to overlook the consequences?" Remus hissed between clenched teeth. "You could be arrested, Harry." I gulped, a little unnerved at the steady level of his voice. "Tell me, what do you know of the Mauvais spell, with more specifics?" His narrowed eyes watched as I shifted from foot to foot, feeling once again like a schoolboy instead of a twenty-one year old man.

"Well, it finds the time at which the person was most happy and at peace, then recreates that person at that age with all their memories up to that point, in the present." He glowered at me, waiting for me to continue. Was there something I had forgot?"

"Do you know no more?" Remus asked, his voice edged with what sounded like disgust. I shook my head, beginning to count the holes in the floorboards beneath my feet. Soon he would give me a detention, that's what this felt like! Maybe I would walk back from his office to find my blushing Ginny working on an assignment in the common room. I would extend a hand to her and she would lace her fingers into mine, smiling devilishly up at me before pulling me down to sit on the rug beside her. Then once more, one final time I would kiss her lips that tasted of cherry lip-gloss and Acid Pops and everything would go back to normal.

"Perhaps it slipped your notice that he Mauvais spell is permanent." I jerked my head back up in surprise. "Lily is stuck here because of you. She will have to be educated and informed of your parents, as well as her past. You've really made a mess this time, Harry," he added as I gaped at him. Oops. Then he turned to face the door to my bedroom and pulled out his wand. "I'm going to make sure she's alright. It would be best for you if you stayed away from her until everything's been cleared up. At least I can offer her a somewhat familiar face." Remus' face slid back to its depressed calm as he placed a hand on the doorknob.

"What should I do to help?" I asked hesitantly. He sighed and closed her eyes. Nervous, I began to fidget with the hem of my shirt.

"Make toast, slightly burnt. Use butter, not margarine." At my raised eyebrows he added, "It should calm her down." I did as I was told and obediently started down the stairs, pondering the damage I had done.

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A/N: Feedback please! And although it may be a little early to ask for this, could you write long reviews? They're so much fun to read. I don't have any teasers for you, but I can tell you that in the next chapter Remus tries to explain to Lily what's happened and they make plans for what she should do. Plus, Harry acts weird, need I say more? Please review! Toodles!

Next POV: Lily's

Final Word Count: 2597