A/N: This chapter is Harry waking up and finally coming out about the abuse, going into shock, Prongs making an appearance again, and really the last angsty chapter. The one where the Longbottoms will be a bit angsty, but much less then this scene.

MissSadieKane: Yep! George's initials were hard to figure out, but thankfully Neville and Harry don't know him well enough to draw the connection yet.

harry potter is my muse: Okay, I'll try answer all of your questions in the best way:

1. You should see the finer details of their plan in the next chapter, but yes, they are going to fight the war against Voldemort and Dumbledore; who is playing a "covert bad-guy" I guess is a good way to say it. He's masquerading around under his Sir Twinkle Eyes character, but he really wants power, money, and immortality, which is the reason he wants Voldemort dead: Voldemort holds the power over some of the more wealthy families, families who don't like him. Dumbledore is going to have Harry and Neville kill Voldemort so he can get their money and Voldemort's followers, with money and power by offering them refuge from the Ministry, which equals a lot more power and money for him. The reason he doesn't declare himself Minister or a dark lord is because he fears people will be able to more overtly oppose him this way. As Headmaster, he is simply seen as benign and can control people more subtly so they don't have a clue what's happening.

2. Yeah. This is going to go in line with the books for the major plots: the Triwizard Tournament, Voldemort coming back, the Prophecy, the horcruxes and the hallows, but there will be a bit of a different way they get around to these.

3. This is not alternative universe in the way that Harry and co. get transported to a different dimension/world, but more along the lines of me using Jo's plot devices, characters, etc. to make a Harry Potter universe of what would've happened if his parents, the Longbottoms, and Regulus came back to life and if Dumbledore took his manipulations even farther. I hope that makes sense. But it's definitely not a dream.

I can understand what you said about being a logical person-with all the ways fanfics change around and use different terms it's hard to keep it all straight! Thanks!

amber-chick: Thanks so much! I absolutely loved your story "Reactions to the Legend". I was reading it in study hall and I almost peed my pants it was so funny! (Needless to say, everyone looked at me like I was crazy.) Anyway, I always thought it would've been better in Jo's stories if we knew exactly where Harry and Sirius' relationship was and Remus and Harry having a bit more of one. Yeah, James and Lily are going to have coronaries when they find out what Harry's been up to. Thanks, I really do try to make my spelling and grammar neat (though that probably isn't proper grammar). The Potter reunion is coming up next, but the Longbottom and Black reunions are going to start with a lot of confusion. I really hate reading Weasley and Hermione bashing fics, though I understand them. In mine, Ron and Hermione are going to start acknowledging their faults and in the fifth book the Golden Trio shall be back full-force! Thanks for the review!

Chapter Eight

Explanations

"Sirius? Professor Lupin? What's going on?"

Harry watched as both Sirius and Professor Lupin looked at him with unclear expressions on their faces. Finally, Professor Lupin said, "I'm not your professor and more, Harry. It's Remus or Moony."

Harry blinked, confused at what exactly was happening and reached for his glasses. Remus handed them to him, he accepted and said, "Thanks, Remus. But—what's going on?"

Remus and Sirius exchanged looks.

"We rescued from the Dursleys," He growled out the name of his relatives. "And brought you here, to recover." He smiled tiredly at Harry. "Are you alright, pup?"

Harry didn't smile back. He had a horrible feeling of dread in his stomach. He knew what was going to happen; Remus and Sirius were going to tell how disappointed they were in him, how his parents would be disappointed in him for not being able to hold off a simple Muggle, and they were going to take him to the Dursleys and tell them they could have their fun, and that Sirius and Remus would never being speaking to him again because how much of a stupid little boy he was and how he wasn't able to Quidditch World Cup and how his parents would be ashamed and how…

"—and we wanted to tell you it's okay."

"What?" Harry asked incredulously.

Sirius frowned at Harry. "The abuse. What the Dursleys did was wrong. We wanted to tell that it's okay, and it's not your fault."

"You…don't blame me?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Of course not, Harry," Remus said quietly, sitting down in a chair on the side of Harry's bed. "The abuse is nothing to be ashamed of. You can tell us everything. Anything. Anything at all."

Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and frowned. This wasn't going as he had expected it to. "You'll turn your back on me," Harry told them. "It doesn't matter."

Sirius bit his lip and looked as though he was holding in a growl.

"We—Moony and I—would never turn our back on you. You are family. We love you like one of our own. Tell us anything. We love and we care for you. You are never going back to the Dursleys."

Harry shook his head sadly. "Don't make promises you can't keep. Dumbledore said—"

"To hell with what Dumbledore said!" Both Remus and Sirius yelled in sync.

"Harry, did you ever wonder why a school teacher had any say over where you lived and what you did when not in school if he wasn't your legal guardian? Did you ever wonder why you went to the Dursleys when your parents' will says you are to go to me, Remus, Alice and Frank Longbottom, Augusta Longbottom, or Minerva McGonagall?"

Harry's mind suddenly went blank. "I was—wasn't supposed to go to the Dursleys? Who put me there? If I wasn't supposed to go then WHY THE HELL WAS I WITH THOSE ABUSIVE SWINE?" Harry's voice had been getting louder with word he spoke until he was yelling.

"Dumbledore," Remus said grimly.

Harry's anger suddenly deflated. This didn't make any sense. Why would the Headmaster, a man who looked at like savior and a grandfatherly figure put him there when he obviously knew what was going on? Harry's throat was dry. "But—why?"

"That doesn't matter right now," Sirius waved it aside. "But do you believe me, Harry? Do you believe us that you're never going back? Do you believe us that we won't turn our back on you when you tell us what happened?"

Harry looked into his godfather and surrogate uncle's eyes. Both radiated kindness and sincerity, two things he had never really, along with love, felt or seen before. Before he knew it, he told them everything. He told them about starvation, the bars on his windows, the cupboard for a bedroom, the constant chores, being mentally and emotionally abused by his aunt, beat up by his cousin, the beatings—lots of beatings by his uncle.

While he spoke, the tears he held back for fourteen years came pouring down his cheeks, but Sirius and Remus did not look at him like he was weak or a freak. They comforted him and smiled, making him feel better, encouraging him to go on. He felt love when he saw the anger that flared in their eyes when he spoke about the things he went through.

Finally, when he was done, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. He felt lighter and carefree, like teenager was supposed to. He didn't feel like there was something keeping him back when smiled; when he smiled he smiled full force. When he laughed, it was genuine and not forced.

When it was over, after many hugs and laughs and cries and choice words (which the marauders had a surprisingly large repertoire of), he looked around the infirmary; he guessed it was, and asked, "Where exactly are we?"

"Potter Bunker," Remus said.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "I didn't know the Potters had a bunker. What is this all about?"

Sirius waved a hand, "The Potters have a lot more than a bunker, but that's not important right now. For now all you need to know is that the Potters were—are ," Sirius corrected himself, "One of the six most richest pureblood families in Britain, but that doesn't matter right now."

" 'Doesn't matter?'" Harry repeated, his eyebrows now approaching the heavens. "It's a freaking bunker! Of course it—" Harry cut off looking at his newly-found guardians serious faces. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, which made Sirius and Remus smile in spite of themselves. "What's this all about?"

Sirius took a deep breath. "Harry, I was writing you a letter when I heard a knock at the door."

Frowning, Harry nodded for him to continue, wondering where this could possible go.

"And at the door were James and Lily Potter alive. Your parents are alive." Sirius said bluntly.

Remus and Sirius both winced as they saw Harry's blank expression; the same one James had worn just an hour earlier. Remus turned to Sirius and muttered, "You couldn't have said it a little more gently?"

"Well, I didn't mean for him to go into Potter-stasis," Sirius mumbled, referring to the what they had christened the blank, dead, emotionless look that all Potters had before they blew up—emotionally or physically. The emotion was usually anger or great sadness and the physical item was usually very expensive.

Harry was in shock and disbelief. There was no way this could be true, his brain kept telling him, while his heart told him differently. Remember the dreams? It pestered. Your parents promised they were coming for you.

There was only one way to know for sure.

"Can I see them, please?" Harry asked in a detached voice, still wrapped in his own thoughts. He vaguely saw Remus nod and go out into the hall when he came back, he was back with two people. They were both wearing torn and frayed robes and their faces look nervous and melancholy.

The woman was the one from his dream—the dream with the lullaby. The same red hair and green eyes, except this time her hair was dirty and unkempt and her eyes were puffy and red and she looked she hadn't slept ages but had also been crying.

The man was the one from his first dream, in the sitting room. His hair is messy like the woman's, but is black and has the windswept look of someone who ran their fingers through it one too many times. He had hazel eyes, bloodshot from crying and tiredness, behind round glasses that sat crooked on his nose.

Still in that detached voice, Harry said, almost robot-like, "If you were my father you could turn into Prongs. Hand me your wand, please."

The man held out his wand, and Harry grasped the other end. They locked eyes, engaged in a strange staring contest of wills until the man nodded imperceptibly at him. He stood back, and transformed with a pop into a magnificent stag.

The stag's racks of antlers were a charcoal black, and around his intelligent hazel eyes were black markings like his spectacles. His entire coat was a natural, light brown with a white underbelly that had white spots where the brown and white met.

Harry's mouth fell open. His parents were back. His parents were back. His parents were back. His parents were back.

Jerking him from his thoughts, the man—his father—turned from Prongs back into James.

James hesitantly approached him, one slow step at a time. Finally, as though checking if he was real, he reaches his hand and puts a hand on his shoulder, and then kneels by Harry's bed.

The entire time, they keep eye contact, reassuring each other the other is real. Finally, kneeling next to Harry, he wrapped his arms around his son—his son, his son—and hugged him as they cried unashamedly on each other's arms.

Lily rushed over and pried James away. She wrapped her arms around her bud, but burst into tears as she felt him stiffen.

"No one's going to hurt, you baby," his mother said in a musical voice that Harry was now sure was the one that sung the lullaby. "Not anymore. It's over. It's all over."

And the three Potters cried themselves into exhausted sleep in each other's arms and Remus and Sirius smiled in the background.

Neville and Augusta Longbottom were having a good day. It was breakfast time, the sun was shining and Neville was telling his Gran how he planned to check on his Fanged Geranium was suddenly a note appeared.

Augusta drew her wand, but the note contained no harm and simply floated to the table. Augusta, wand still in hand snatched it off the table and read it aloud,

"'It's time for you to meet some old friends. GFW.'"

Neville opened his mouth to ask what it was, but was cut off by a jerk in his navel. He saw choppy images of Gran being lifted up before hit the ground and passed out.

Minerva McGonagall was not having a good day. She was sorting through all sorts of paperwork for the Triwizard Tournament and cursing Dumbledore to high hell for having it held here. Didn't he realize how much of a danger it was? She snorted. Obviously not. He must be going senile in his old age, Minerva thought, Even with an age line, it was simply too easy for an older student could simply walk a younger student's name it.

Just as prepared to sign her name on waiver for Gryffindor students, a note appeared. Drawing her wand, she detected no lies and snatched it out of the sky.

Prepare to meet some old friends. GFW.

What? She wondered, but before she could ponder further she felt a hook in her navel was lifted high off the ground. She and the note disappeared from her office leaving behind only a rustle of papers. Minerva hit the ground and then collapsed

Regulus Black was tired. Tired beyond belief. He had gotten out of the entrance of the cave, (a feat by itself) and swum all the way to the shore (an even larger feat). He was freezing, and trying to figure how exactly he was going to apparate without splinching himself when a note fell out of the sky.

Call him an idiot, but Regulus was tired and a bit sluggish and simply grabbed the note, not bothering to check for any curses.

Time to go. You're late for an appointment with some old friends. GFW.

Before Regulus had time to figure out what the hell this meant, seeing as he didn't have any old friends, except for his brother, who had deluded into believing he was a supporter of Voldemort for his own safety he was whisked away by a jerk in his navel. His last thought before he hit the ground and passed out was.

I shoul've checked it for jinxes.