Hindsight

Summary: "Ten years," James whispered to his wife. "We've been dead for Ten years… how is this possible?" Ten years after the tragedy at Godric's Hollow, James and Lily come back to life and find their world turned upside down.

Chapter 5

Sirius stared at the couple he thought dead for a long time.

A very long time. Seconds had quickly turned into minutes and he was still just staring at them. Despite the circumstances, Remus found it rather amusing. Throughout their childhood, Sirius was always the hardest one to prank, for he somehow knew when something was about to happen or when someone was sneaking up on him. They blamed it on his canine senses. Though he guessed they didn't help him much when it came to Peter…Remus shook himself out of his thoughts and turned back to his friends. It seemed no one had the heart to bring Sirius out of his daze, but it was getting rather boring.

"Padfoot?" James sang. "Is he dead?"

Remus scratched his head. "That would be rather disappointing, after all the work we did to get him out of Azkaban."

"It seems we wrote that letter for nothing if he was just going to croak it once he was free," Lily sighed.

"Wha-" Sirius spluttered. "I- letter?"

Lily nodded. "Just wrote it yesterday. We needed solid evidence to free you."

"Y-yesterday?"

"Well, we definitely didn't write it ten years ago, but the Wizengamot bought it, didn't they?"

"I… James? Lily?"

"That would be us," James chimed.

Sirius let out a squeak, unable to do much more. "I… I don't . How are you… but you're… This… to hell with it all!" The black-haired man laughed when Sirius practically flew into his arms. "Prongs? Is it you? Is it really you?!"

"It is, Sirius. I swear. We've got proof and everything."

"I don't understand. Did you fake your deaths? Were you in hiding this entire time?"

Lily pulled her husband away from Sirius and gave him a hug of her own. "Not exactly."

She burrowed her face into his neck and regretted it almost immediately, jolting back with a cough. "God, you stink to high heavens!"

He blushed, having been called out on the way he smelled twice within the same hour. "Well, sorry, but Azkaban wasn't exactly a five star hotel! Now, will someone tell me how this is possible? Where the hell have you two been for ten years?"

"Dead."

Sirius threw his hands up tiredly. "Dead dead or 'dead' dead?"

"We were really, truly dead, Sirius," Lily stated. "And for some reason, two days ago, we woke up really, truly alive in our graves and had to crawl our way out."

"…What?!"

James punched the man's arm lightly. "You really think that if we were alive all this time, we would've left you in Azkaban? Have you lost all your marbles or do you think we're just bad friends?"

"…Crawled out of your grave?!"

"Er, well… blasted through it more like. Wasn't a pleasant experience, I tell you. I think Lils and I will be a bit claustrophobic for a while."

"Graves?!"

Albus nudged them towards the chairs he had set up near the fire. "Why don't we all sit down for some tea and allow Sirius to get cleaned up before we explain this to him a bit gentler?"

And so they did. McGonagall came in with a set of robes, congratulated Sirius on his freedom with a near motherly embrace before leading him out and taking him to the prefect's bathroom so he could shower and change. When he came back nearly an hour later, having enjoyed his time in the large bath, Lily and James were in the middle of practicing charms and transfiguration spells and Remus was sitting by the fire, eating biscuits while staring into the flames. It was so familiar, a scene he'd happened upon many times when he was late to a gathering, and made him feel like the past ten years had almost never happened. Much like the times in their youth, Remus was the first to notice him. The man smiled and beckoned him in.

"Took your time, did you?"

Sirius chuckled. "You know, you used to say that to me whenever I got to Prong's house a bit too late."

"A bit?" Lily sniggered. "You would show up when everyone was ready to leave."

"And my house?" James asked dubiously. "I know it's been ten years, mate, but you do remember who really ran that household, don't you?"

Lily smirked and puffed her chest out proudly.

Sirius wanted to roll his eyes at her or tease James for being such a pushover, but he still couldn't believe that they were standing right in front of him. The last time he had seen their faces, they had been lifeless on the floor. He looked at Remus, hoping that seeing someone he knew to be alive would give him some sanity, but it seemed to drive him down even further. Countless nightmares and hallucinations of Remus blaming him for their friends' deaths came back to mind. As he recalled the anger and hatred he'd imagined for so long, he was barely able to notice the friendly way he was inviting him over to the seat next to him.

"Padfoot? Where did you go?"

He blinked. He gave them a tight-lipped smile when they noticed they were now looking at him with concern. "I'm fine. This is all just… a lot to take in."

"Of course," Lily acknowledged.

"And… walking in here, seeing you all interacting like we just saw each other yesterday is-"

"Don't think this isn't hard for us too, Pads," muttered James. "I've had nearly three nervous breakdowns in the past two days."

"He's not exaggerating," Lily remarked as she rubbed her husband's back soothingly. "He nearly tore this office apart when he found out you were in jail for Peter's crimes." James flinched at Peter's name, but she didn't say anything and doubled her efforts to comfort him.

"Maybe, but you're the one who went mental on the Minister for Magic."

"You did?" Sirius guffawed.

"I swear Fudge looked like he was about to fall apart."

She harrumphed and crossed her arms. "Well, what was I supposed to do?! My friend was imprisoned and they were doing nothing about it! And we were right, weren't we? Sirius didn't even do anything he was sentenced for. Bloody ridiculous, not giving you a trial."

He sighed, walking over to sit down by Remus. "Honestly, I don't think a trial would have worked in my favor anyway if I truly was as deranged as they say I was. Honestly, laughing? What the bloody hell was going on in my mind?"

"You just saw our corpses, Sirius," James defended as they took the seats across from them. "A friend we'd known since we were eleven had basically sold us all out to Voldemort and your godson was physically taken from your arms. I'm shocked you weren't catatonic, really."

"I'm shocked you're not catatonic. Doesn't it bother you, remembering being killed?"

The couple looked at each other. "Honestly, we barely remember it," Lily explained. "That night's coming back in bits and pieces, but we've been too worried about the two of you-"

"And Harry-"

"-to even think about what happened at Godric's Hollow. And it's not like we've been getting any sleep to even dream about it."

Sirius examined them carefully. "What exactly happened two days ago?"

James squinted at something in the distance, as though he was trying to visually remember what he went through. "Well, I woke up in the pitch dark, without my glasses mind you. I was having trouble breathing, which only got worse when I realized I was in a bloody coffin. My magic must've sensed my distress and took over for me because in the middle of trying to claw my way out, it just exploded a path open for me. When I finally crawled out of the dirt and got Lily out of her coffin, we realized we were in the Godric's Hollow Graveyard. She ran us home, nearly went mad at what she saw, and then we flooed to Dumbledore, hoping he'd have some answers for us."

"And you have no idea how you two are suddenly risen from the dead?"

"Not a clue," she responded with frustration. "We don't know if it was planned or some kind of miracle, if someone's waiting for us to show our faces or if we've just been giving a second chance."

"All we know is that our son is stuck at the Dursleys and Merlin knows what those miserable muggles are doing to him," James grumbled irritably.

Sirius frowned in confusion. "Well, what have you been waiting for? Why haven't you gotten him yet?"

"Uhm, maybe you hadn't noticed, Sirius," Remus began sardonically. "But the were out of their mind trying to figure out how to get you out of Azkaban without revealing themselves to the public."

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Oh. Right. Smart thinking by the way, with that letter."

James chuckled. "Wasn't our idea. It was Fudge's, believe it or not. He figured he'd need our testimony somehow, so he told Dumbledore to have us write a letter."

"Addressed to him," Lily added with a roll of her eyes. "Dumbledore told him it'd probably be wiser if we had written the letter to someone we actually knew before."

"And I was happy to be of service," Remus concluded.

"Well, I'm a free man now, so what are you waiting for? Go get my godson!"

James sunk down in his chair with an angry glower. "We aren't allowed to."

"Allowed to?" Sirius gawked. "What do you mean?"

Lily looked as annoyed as her husband. "Dumbledore wants to go and talk to Petunia and Vernon first, to prepare them. He'll be visiting the Dursleys tomorrow morning. Honestly... maybe it's a good idea. If he comes back and tells us that Harry isn't comfortable leaving with us, at least we wont be blindsided by his rejection when we go to see him."

The bespectacled man scoffed. "As if he would want to stay with your stupid sister and her whale of a husband. Albus has no right telling us to sit here on our asses when our son-"

"James! You never know. Maybe they changed. Maybe our deaths made them better people and they loved Harry as their own. Maybe…" Suddenly, her bottom lip began to tremble and her eyes moistened. Sirius leaned away in horror, never one to react well to women crying, but Remus and James were at her side immediately, holding her and whispering softly to calm her down. "Maybe he calls her mum," she sniffled sadly.

"Well, that would be nice, wouldn't it?" Remus tried. "That he grew up with loving parents?"

"Of course it would be nice!" she cried. "But he's my baby and he just learned to call me mum and- ugh! I hate sobbing like this! Why do you guys let me do this?"

"It'll be alright," James insisted. "If the Dursleys really did change, then I'm sure they've only said nice things about us to Harry, made sure he knows we love him. He won't reject us, Lily, I promise."

Harry woke to the sound of Uncle Vernon shouting loudly.

He sat up quickly, thinking for a moment that he was the one being yelled at, but to his surprise, the shutters on his door were still shut. Uncle Vernon wasn't peering in at him, scolding him for how he had ruined precious Dudley's birthday yesterday, nor was Aunt Petunia calling him lazy and telling him to get ready so he could cook breakfast.

Not that he thought he'd be let out to cook or clean for his relatives.

After what happened at the zoo, he was sure his aunt and uncle would keep him locked up until he starved to death. Though they could hardly blame him, could they? How was he to know how the snake tank's glass vanished?

"We want none of your freakishness here!" he heard Uncle Vernon yell.

Freakishness? If it wasn't he who was in trouble, then who was?

"Now, Vernon, if you would only allow me to talk to you and your wife. This is of the utmost importance."

The voice sounded old and very kind, unlike many of the Dursleys' previous visitors. Harry was unsure as to how Vernon could be so angry with someone who sounded so polite, but then again, they were rather horrible to him and he never did anything.

"Absolutely not! We swore never to let the boy know anything having to do with your people and we won't let you ruin it now! Get off my property before I call the police!"

"You heard my husband," he heard Aunt Petunia whisper shrilly. "We want nothing to do with you!"

"Petunia, please. You all have the right to know, especially Harry. It's about Lily and James-"

Harry's heart leapt at the sound of his name. This man was here for him? And who were Lily and James?

"If you think you can bring him to that freak school of yours," Uncle Vernon stammered furiously, "after we spent all these years stomping that rubbish out of him, you-"

"This is much bigger than young Harry's acceptance to my school, Vernon," the old voice responded patiently. Harry didn't know how anyone could remain so nice after being treated so rudely. "I understand you are trying to protect your nephew from things you believe to be dangerous. You lost family to it, after all, but you must understand it is a part of him. You cannot hide it from him forever."

"Watch us!"

"Petunia-"

"Don't you speak to my wife! Leave! Now! Petunia, go call the authorities!"

Harry was close to panicking. This man, whoever he was, was about to be arrested or worse, killed, because his horrible relatives wouldn't just let him speak. Speak about an important matter regarding him. He turned the knob quietly, hoping that they might have forgotten to lock his door, and cursed under his breath when he realized he was trapped inside the cupboard. A part of him wanted to shout out and bang on the door, but if Uncle Vernon got to him first, he would surely get a lashing for it.

"Petunia, don't."

His eyes widened. Gone was the gentle tone he'd been hearing since he woke up. It appeared Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had pushed him too far.

"If you think we're going to let you boss us around in our own house-"

"Lily and James are alive."

The silence that took over the house was deafening.

Harry fiddled with the shutters of his door in hopes to open it and peek out to see what was happening, but it was no use. His fingers weren't able to push through the gate on his side. Harry smacked his leg in frustration. What was happening out there? Who was that man? Why did he need to know anything about a Lily and James?

"Wh-what?" Petunia stuttered. "No, they- did you… with your… with it?"

"The best explanation I have for you and your husband was that they were in a deep sleep for all these years, making us think they were dead when they were, in fact, very much alive." There was something in his tone that made Harry believe it was an explanation given for his Aunt and Uncle to easily accept, and maybe not the full truth.

"So you didn't… use it on corpses or-"

"I can assure you that I did nothing of the sort."

What was Aunt Petunia speaking of? Corpses? Harry backed away from the door, suddenly unsure of whether or not he wanted to see the man in his house.

"So what? Now they're back and want to pick the boy up as if they didn't make us take care of him for the past ten years? We clothed the boy, fed the boy, schooled him while they sat on their lazy, dreadful-"

"That is enough, Vernon. I understand if you have formed an emotional attachment to the boy, it is only natural. You've been a family for ten years now and I'm sure that Harry views you both as parents in your own right, but they would like to see him."

"See him? They'll corrupt him! Destroy everything we've done to keep him away from freaks like you!"

Harry nearly laughed. They weren't actually trying to protect him, were they? After all these years, were his relatives finally feeling some sort of sentimentality towards him?

"The last thing they want to do is tear your relationship with Harry apart, and I'm sure they'd never take the boy away if he wants to stay with you, but you can't expect to keep him away from his schooling. Hogwarts is his birthright. I don't think even I will be able to stop them from having a say in that."

"You tell that freak and her deadbeat husband that they can't just get away with dropping their spawn on our doorstep, forcing us to raise him, and- and then just take him back as though we didn't do anything! As though we were watching a plant for them! That boy has been nothing but trouble since he first came here and we'll have something to say to-"

But Harry couldn't listen to any more of his Uncle's rant.

Their spawn? He wasn't… they weren't talking about his parents, were they?

Suddenly, the entire conversation made almost complete sense. Aunt Petunia had never allowed him to ask questions about his parents, but he was sure he had heard the name 'Lily' pass her lips once in his life. He wasn't sure why they were made to believe his parents dead, but if the man was right and they had been in some kind of… coma, then it wasn't like they had abandoned him on purpose. Perhaps something went wrong with the medical records after the car crash, maybe they didn't have identification on them or- well he didn't have an explanation for it, but what did it matter? His parents were alive. And both of them were awake and they wanted him. They wanted to see him.

He pressed his ear against the door, hungry to hear anything more about Lily or James.

He noticed that Uncle Vernon was done shouting and that Aunt Petunia was furiously whispering something, to the old man or to his uncle he wasn't sure. The man sighed when she was done.

"It appears I have judged you wrong, Petunia. I hoped, for your sake, after what happened to your sister, you might change your ways, take pity on the nephew who would grow up without his mother. I only pray you will prepare Harry accordingly. His parents have been waiting to come and see him, and the surely will not be happy to hear how you speak of him."

And that was the confirmation he was waiting for.

Lily and James.

His mum and dad.

"I shall leave you, so you can speak to him. They'll be here later today, or maybe tomorrow-"

"No!"

Harry's eyes widened at the exclamation. He wondered whether it was Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon who had denied the man's request, but at their silence, he quickly realized that it was he who had screamed. Whether it was out of fear that this was all a dream, or maybe the suspicion that his aunt and uncle would never allow him even a drop of happiness, he'd had a knee jerk reaction at the old man's farewell. It was far too late to pretend he hadn't been heard and Uncle Vernon wasn't spewing out any of his regular lies about mice in the closets or cars backfiring. Coming to a decision, he jiggled the doorknob and knocked on the door.

"Please… please, let me out! I want to see them, I do!"

The kind voice was furious once more. "Is that…"

"N-now, see here! If you knew the things he's done, the trouble he's caused- he's lucky he even has a room-"

"A room?"

There was a sound of a door banging against a wall and a hurried shuffle of feet.

"Wait one minute! How dare you just barge into- PUT THAT BLASTED THING AWAY!"

"Alohomora!"

Aloho-what?

Harry's jaw dropped when he heard the door unlock and watched as someone nearly ripped it off its hinges. There, standing in the hallway with his hand on the outside knob, was a tall, old man with long gray hair and an even longer, grayer beard. His glasses were in the shape of a semicircle and sat on a quite crooked nose. So, he was right about the man's age. He was wearing very odd clothes, long periwinkle robes that had stars and moons on them. He met the man's gaze and, though he looked rather outraged, he was sure that his eyes were one of the most beautiful shades of blue he'd ever seen in his life.

Harry pulled back slightly, unsure of what the man would do. "Hello," he greeted hesitantly.

"Harry?"

"I… yes. That's me." The old man continued to gawk at him and his room, his eyes roaming around and taking in the space in front of him. "I… sorry I didn't make my bed. I wasn't expecting any visitors."

"Your bed. This is your room. Where you sleep?"

He could practically see the rage building. "It's alright, really. I don't need much space anyway. I'm rather short, but what you were saying out there… is it true? My parents have come out of a coma and they're looking for me?"

The man softened finally, bending down so he was eye level with him. "Indeed, they are. They're very excited to see you again, Harry."

"So, they survived the car crash with me?"

"Car crash?"

"Apparently so," Petunia interrupted quickly.

He sent an expressionless stare in her direction. "A car crash, indeed."

Harry wasn't sure why the man had gotten upset again. "When can I see them?" he asked eagerly, hoping to steer the conversation back in the right direction. "Did they come out of their comas around the same time? Have they been waiting long for me? They have their own house, don't they? Do they want me to move in? I don't have much to pack! I can be done in a few minutes. Oh! Sorry, sir, what did you say your name was?"

The old man chuckled. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, Harry. And I am the Headmaster of the school you'll be attending in September."

His brows popped up. "Stonewall High?"

"Not quite, my dear boy."

He grimaced. "I'm not going to Smeltings, am I?"

"As if you'd be good enough to go to Smetlings," Uncle Vernon grumbled from behind the old man.

"On the contrary, Harry, you'll be going to a school far better than Smeltings," he boasted, much to the chagrin of Vernon who was turning a violent shade of red. "But I suppose my school isn't quite as interesting to you as other things at the moment?"

He grinned and nodded. "My parents… they're really alive? You're telling the truth?"

"I wouldn't dream of lying to you, my boy. If you're sure about leaving your Aunt and Uncle, why don't you go ahead and pack your things. We can go see your parents once you're done."

Harry turned to his relatives, who were staring at him with such disdain. "You wouldn't happen to have an old bag I could have, would you?"

"Now, Harry, we wouldn't want to put Vernon and Petunia out of their way," Dumbledore told him cheerily. "Here. Let me help you." The old man took out a long stick and pointed it at his ratty bed. Aunt Petunia shrieked and Uncle Vernon jumped in front of her, as if to protect her. "You wouldn't mind if I transfigured the bed? I'm sure Lily and James have a more suitable alternative for you, anyway."

"What do you mean, transfig-"

He jumped back with a yelp as his bed twisted and warped around itself until it was suddenly a dark burgundy trunk. "H.J.P." was carved in gold on the side and an odd crest stamped on the top of it. He leaned down and touched it with wide eyes. Had he really just seen that?

"What did you- how did you do that?!"

"All in good time, Harry," Albus promised him. "Pack. There are people impatiently waiting your arrival."