Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The graveyard in Godric's Hollow had seen almost no activity for weeks. Some of the graves inside were so ancient, having been placed there as far back as when Godric himself was still living, that not many were visited often. One grave towards the edge of the cemetery, near the kissing gate, was adorned with a bright bouquet of daises, the family having visited on the year anniversary of their loved-ones passing.

But that was two weeks previous, and since, scarcely anyone but the lawn keeper had passed through the resting grounds of so many witches, wizards, and muggles alike.

That's why it was so strange, on that particularly hot summer's night, that there were loud noises being emitted from inside the gates of the cemetery – after all, the dead typically didn't move around much.

The sun was well set and in the distance heat lightening could be seen; it had so far been a hot summer. A rather rhythmic beating sound was spreading throughout the otherwise quiet grounds – and it all centered in the area specifically set aside for magic folk.

With a great bang and a sight of dirt flying through the air, a grave exploded as though it had internally combusted. Great gasps, whether from sobs or from need of air, could be heard – that of a woman.

Face pale and thin, a stark contrast to her red (albeit dull from lack of a proper washing), the woman behind all of the commotion peaked over her mound of dirt and grime in which she'd just exploded.

If any muggles had been near – or any magical being, for that matter – they might have fainted. With weak arms and wide eyes, the woman crawled out of her would-be grave and looked around her as though she had no idea where she had just been lying.

She had just turned her confused and gaunt face towards the remnants of her own gravestone, soon to discover a disturbing (former) truth, when another loud bang echoed through the night.

The woman was thrown back by the blast, having neither the strength nor the current reflexes to propel her body away from the other exploding grave next to hers. She laid face down, probably in a state of shock, as another shallow and sickly face blinked up out of another grave.

The man glanced around, and being a head taller than the woman, was able to use his long arms to hurl himself out of his grave faster than she had.

When the man and women, both still surveying their surroundings, met each other's gazes, all seemed to click into place.

"Lily!"

"JAMES!"

While his voice was hoarse and relieved, hers was a loud, hysterical scream.

With a look akin to horror, she unsteadily got to her feet to bring herself closer to him. Grabbing his face in her hands and stooping down to his level, her eyes filled with tears.

"You died!" Her voice cracked and her head shook back and forth fiercely. "Voldemort found us and you told me to run, and you didn't have your wand! You just – just – j-just DIED!"

James's eyes became teary also, and he grabbed both of her hands from his cheeks to hold them in his own. He couldn't see much – his glasses felt as though they had an inch of dust covering them.

"Lily . . . I remember. I – I saw the green light! I . . ." He trailed off, looking around them for any explanation.

"I think we both died." James pointed towards their former prisons, which held mahogany coffins. Lily, although still quite inwardly horrified, nodded calmly (the war had taught her to keep her senses).

"Yes," she whispered, her tears falling faster and hiccups breaking through her carefully constructed words. "I remember now. I tried to save him, James! But he wouldn't stop! He – he killed me to get to Harry!"

She broke down completely and James shakily held her. Her words caused his heart to speed up and tears to carve tracks on his clammy face.

Harry.

He saw his baby boy – bright green eyes and a tuft of soft black hair. A small body curled up next to him as he napped on the couch, his silly giggle as he avoided his nightly bath, his happy smile as James made faces at him. James closed his eyes to try and stop the panic and heart-wrenching pain. Their child was nowhere to be found.

Lily sobbed in his arms, and James had never felt more like an adult. His family had been depending on him – his beautiful wife and baby son – and now they were . . . Dead? Living? Missing? Nothing was clear, other than Voldemort had clearly won this round – possibly the last and the most important.

Lily pulled herself away from James and looked around once more.

"James, what happened? Did you wake up to find yourself in the complete dark, unable to breathe? I panicked and remembered Harry and my magic just exploded."

James was nodding the entire time. He reached up to grab his hair – a nervous tick- and found that it seemed to be permanently stuck in certain directions. It hurt his scalp when his hand ran through his hair, indicating it probably hadn't been rustled in a long while.

"Lils, we died," he whispered. "I think – something horrible is happening. People don't just come back from the dead. No matter how much we would want to, we couldn't have forced ourselves alive at the exact same moment."

Lily ignored him, instead looking around the graveyard for the tenth time.

"James, we have to find Harry! He's probably all alone and terrified! Do you think Sirius would have found him by now?"

James didn't want to answer his wife's question. He felt extremely unsettled about the entire situation. He wanted more than anything to find Harry just as she did, but he also knew that they had to first figure out what exactly had happened, as it was clear their son was nowhere in their vicinity.

"Oh dear, dear, dear."

James and Lily both froze, recognizing both the voice and the common phrase it uttered in times of trouble. Relief flowed through James, knowing that at least they would have help. But his relief was coupled with dread. Albus Dumbledore wouldn't sound so troubled without very good reason.

The wizard that walked toward them was, for once, not dressed in extravagant wizardry clothing. Instead, he wore a simple black cloak that could almost pass as acceptable in the muggle world. His blue eyes were hesitant as he surveyed the scene silently.

His wand, which James suspected had been drawn the entire time, only hidden underneath his cloak, made an appearance. James didn't like the idea of Dumbledore's wand pointing at them. He looked back warily, wishing that he could draw his own wand (which he felt in his pocket) without seeming suspicious.

"It is as I'd feared. Although it is quite obvious from whence you've both come, I ask for one shard of proof beyond question. If it is truly you, Mr. Potter, would you please indulge an old man and transform?"

James, feeling alarmed, stared at his old headmaster in bewilderment. Dumbledore had been vague (transform?) to the common ear, but to his experienced animagus ears, it was clear what he was requesting. But James knew, without a doubt, that Dumbledore knew nothing of his other form – nothing at all. No one, besides Sirius, Remus, and . . . and that rat PETER!

With a look of fury James stood upright, nearly knocking Lily flat on her face, and drew his wand. In the next second a stunning curse was flying at the Dumbledore imposter. The old man simply flicked his wand and the curse was repelled.

James kept his wand steady and placed himself in front of Lily, who was looking even more perplexed and scared than before. He would not let anything else happen to his family.

"You SWINE!" James spat. "You bloody Death Eaters think you can spill secrets and impersonate ALBUS DUMBLEDORE and get away with it! Well you're wrong!"

James, who had survived three goes in his lifetime with Voldemort, found himself stunned in a second and on the ground.

The man chuckled. "That was nearly enough proof in itself to prove to me that you really are James Potter. But if you don't mind, I would prefer absolute proof, as nothing of this nature, even in my lifetime, has occurred."

With another flick of his wand, the man had James unfrozen and transforming into a beautiful stag.

As soon as James was a stag, he attempted to leap towards the old man to attack, but the Dumbledore imposter merely smiled and petrified him once more.

"Lily, my dear, forgive me for my trespasses, but I have no other way of proving your identity."

In a moment, Lily felt dizzy as her mind suddenly flipped through memories – it was a gentle sort of prodding, but completely disorienting, as she wouldn't have thought of those certain memories at the current time. Images of her childhood with Snape and Tuney flashed past, along with multiple memories of her pregnancy.

Dumbledore nodded at her as soon as she appeared grounded after the invasion.

He turned towards James with a smile. "Now, James, I can see you are unwilling to believe that it is truly I. I can offer proof in return."

With a long swish of his wand, a silvery Phoenix emerged and flew over their heads.

"A most rare patronus, particularly because it has an uncanny resemblance to Fawkes. Do you still question me?"

James, of course, who was still stunned, could not answer. But his answer was not needed. Dumbledore unfroze him once more and James, of his own volition, turned back into his normal self.

With breathing gasps, no doubt from anger, James shook his head at Dumbledore.

"Albus, we were attacked. And – and we died? I know I died!" He whispered the last exclamation, almost to himself, before continuing. "And then we just suddenly appeared in these graves and Harry's nowhere to be found!"

Lily got to her feet also, color and life returning to her dazed face. "James is right, sir." She looked troubled as her eyes, beginning to fill with tears once more, met Dumbledore's ancient blue ones.

"We didn't tell anyone!" Lily wailed. "We made Peter the Secret Keeper, and he betrayed us! He –"

"HE BLOODY WELL WILL PAY FOR IT TOO!" James cut her off and staggered forward. "We can't find Harry, Albus! Where is he? What's happening?"

Lily, at the mention of Harry, looked as though she was about to start screaming once more, but Dumbledore raised his hand to silence them.

"There is no need to be distressed. Harry is fine."

Dumbledore continued to speak, but James and Lily missed a few of his words in their relief. With a sob, Lily hugged James.

"Please," Dumbledore's controlling voice broke through their momentary happiness. They looked at him once more, and instantly became worried again at the tense look on his face.

"I know it is not what you wish to hear, but nothing is as you remember it."

James broke away from Lily, preparing to shout about Peter and dirty snitches, but Dumbledore's raised eyebrows stopped him.

"James, I know about Peter. That is not what I was referring to," Dumbledore paused slightly. "There is no easy way to tell you this, except for bluntly: You died."

His last word was a wondering whisper, as though even he could not completely fathom exactly what was happening.

"You died," he repeated when he saw their doubtful faces, "and you have remained dead for thirteen years."

The couple's faces looked even more doubtful than before, but now held a great amount of fear.

"I would not lie to you," Dumbledore's voice became sympathetic. "I cannot imagine what either of you are thinking right now, but it is imperative that you believe me. We need to continue this discussion behind closed doors. I am sure you have many questions, and I have many answers, but the open night is not the place for them."

Lily and James, quite stunned into silence, nodded slowly and waited for Dumbledore to make his move.

"You are probably too weak to apparate?" He questioned them. They both winced and nodded reluctantly.

Dumbledore glanced around them once more and silently raised his right arm. In the next moment, Fawkes, his beautiful phoenix, appeared perched there. Fawkes trilled at the new (or old) faces.

"I apologize for my rudeness, but I think it best if I travel to my office and send Fawkes back for the two of you. I need to make sure it is clear, and that all of the portraits are entertained elsewhere. Can I trust that you will both stay in this exact location for the minute we will be separated?"

"Yes," James's voice was still hoarse from non-use.

"Very well. I will see you in about three minutes, in my office."

Fawkes seemed to erupt in flames as she carried her owner away in her form of transportation. Despite everything that was happening, James turned to Lily with a small smile.

"I've always wanted to travel via Fawkes. At least there's that."

Lily gave an obligated eye roll and hugged her husband tighter.

"James, I'm scared." His hazel eyes turned soft as he looked down at her.

"I know. Me too. But Dumbledore will be there. He can handle anything."

Lily was becoming shaky and frantic once more, as her mind was allowed to travel to the places it'd been avoiding when Dumbledore was present.

"Wormy! He betrayed us, James! You – you can't torture a location out of a Secret Keeper. He voluntarily told V-Voldemort," she stumbled over the name for the first time in her life. After all, that evil man had just entered their home (in her mind), threatened her baby and killed her husband.

James felt dizzy as he nodded. He saw his friend's face – the timid smiles and hesitant way about Peter. He remembered everything; the full moons, the late nights, and hell, even the Order meetings. Peter was his friend.

"He was the spy all along," James trembled. "I don't understand, Lily."

Lily cried again, even though she wasn't usually one for tears. This war had broken her spirit more than she'd like to admit.

James closed his eyes. "It's all my fault. I should have known Peter couldn't handle that information! He's not strong enough. He probably got scared that Voldemort would come for him and just decided to go to him first!"

"But James, there's been a spy almost since we joined the Order! Peter must have been a Death Eater for ages! How – " her voice broke "I just can't imagine little, innocent Peter lying to OUR faces, to DUMBLEDORE, and NO ONE finding him out!"

James, no longer feeling quite as guilty, felt his heart harden even further towards his old friend. He had no explanation either; almost ten years of close friendship with the man, and he still couldn't come up with an excuse for his behavior. There was no excuse; Peter really was all rat – even at heart.

They both jumped as Fawkes reappeared in midair, flapping her wings and trilling once more.

"Right, so . . ." James studied the phoenix. "We grab onto you?"

Fawkes landed on his outstretched arm, and although her talons should have hurt him, they didn't. They held tight and Lily grabbed him around the waist as Fawkes carried them away.

Somehow it was more peaceful than apparating, but equally disorienting. When they arrived in Dumbledore's office, James blinked rapidly, seeing only bright colors and hearing wind in his ears still.

"It takes a few travels to become accustomed," the headmaster's old voice broke through James's mind struggle.

When he could finally see again, James studied his surroundings. The office looked much the same as it always had – dozens of trinkets were littered in an orderly manner around the room, portraits hung on the surfaces of the walls, and comfy chairs lined the desk of Albus Dumbledore.

The main difference, which James had not noticed in the dimly lit sky, was the now clearly aged appearance of Dumbledore. His hair, which had always seemed to be white, now looked even brighter – and his skin, although it had always been wrinkled – now was almost frail looking.

"You're old!" The childish words escaped him before he could stop them.

Dumbledore, however, didn't appear to be insulted whatsoever. Instead, he threw his head back and laughed wholeheartedly.

"Well, I am nearly a hundred and twenty years old, dear boy."

James blushed, something he very rarely did, and looked at Lily to distract himself. She touched one of his cheeks, letting him know that if she hadn't been so shocked herself, she would have teased him about his embarrassment.

"Peter, sir. He actually betrayed us?" It hurt James's heart to hear his kind wife even utter those words – she didn't deserve this.

Dumbledore's face drew weary and he nodded. "It is often not until we look back that we realize how blatantly clear the signs were. Peter was never the brightest, nor the most popular, and it is of my belief that he joined Voldemort in hopes of gaining the favor of a powerful wizard."

"You're more powerful than Voldemort! He was already joined with you! Rubbish! He's – he's –" Even though Peter had already betrayed, even though he'd gotten them all killed, James still found it hard to speak ill will against the man he'd once thought of as his brother. The wounds were still fresh and still horribly unbelievable.

Dumbledore crossed his hands on the desk in front of him. "Thank you for your kind words, James. And be that as it may, Peter was far more terrified of Voldemort than of me. While I may have the power, I do not wish to hold it over witches, wizards, or muggleborns as Voldemort chose. Peter believed that his master's drive for dangerous, dark, and powerful means would ultimately overpower all of the good. It is a sad day when a man gives up hope on the world."

James didn't like Dumbledore's words any more than he liked the way in which he spoke them – Was, Chose, Believed – all of them were past tense, when they should have been present. All of this happened years ago, when James had been DEAD.

"Sir, excuse me for sounding frank, but how exactly do you know about Peter anyway? We never told anyone – it was a last minute decision."

Dumbledore gave a great sigh. "Well, casting aside that you both told me about Peter after you . . . awoke . . . a very confusing string of events has occurred in previous years that brought to light exactly who your Secret Keeper had been."

James wasn't stupid – his eyes became wide and his heart beat fast as he realized the horrifying truth. "No, Albus! Sirius – Sirius wasn't the Secret Keeper, surely you would have never thought he'd betray us! He must have found you and proved himself innocent, and then you – you . . . found Peter, and?"

And what? Imprisoned him?

Dumbledore had a weary smile on his face as he studied the couple in front of him.

"I am sorry to say that I never got the chance to speak with Sirius following your deaths. I was notified that your Fidelius Charm had been breached, and having not heard from either of you, expected the worse. The problem began when other magical families of Godric's Hollow suddenly were able to see your destructed house. Most of them, besides a few, had not known you dwelled there, and upon seeing your destroyed house and no Dark Mark, contacted the Ministry."

Dumbledore let out a weary sigh. "I am getting ahead of myself."

Dumbledore looked into Lily's green eyes, his own extremely compassionate, as he continued. "Lily, you died for your son that night. You willingly died, when you could have lived. Voldemort gave you an option, did he not? He told you that you could move aside. Because you did not, even when you still could have, your sacrifice invoked an ancient blood protection that even Voldemort knew not of. When he turned his wand on Harry, his killing curse rebounded, leaving him all but dead."

James and Lily stared at the headmaster in silence.

"From that moment on, it was believed that Voldemort had been defeated. Word soon spread that Harry had survived. Death Eaters started to flee. I was unable to go to Godric's Hollow, as I was at the Ministry, trying to control the situation. Not only did I believe that Sirius had betrayed you – but I also believed that Voldemort was not really gone for good. I sent Hagrid to collect Harry before anyone at the Ministry could find him, and sent him to the only living relatives he had left."

The Potter's expressions became confused, not immediately understanding, and Dumbledore held a hand up to silence them before the outbreak.

"When you died, Lily, I mentioned the blood protection? For as long as Harry lived with someone he shared the same blood with, he would be protected from harm. Regardless of whether Sirius had actually betrayed you, he had to be sent to a blood relative."

Lily was shaking her head, becoming upset, but Dumbledore's look silenced them once more.

"Even though I found it impossible to believe Sirius would betray either of you, I had no reason to believe anyone but him had been your Secret Keeper. You never told me otherwise. And, unfortunately, more evidenced stacked up against Mr. Black that I could not ignore at the time. He, as I discovered many years later, had gone to find Peter that night before you were even attacked. He sensed something was wrong. When he reached Peter's hideout to find it undisturbed but empty, he went to check on you."

Dumbledore looked at the bewildered couple in front of him. They would probably need a calming potion by the end of the night.

"We he reached Godric's Hollow, the attack had just ended. Other witches and wizards were wandering around, too afraid to approach the house but wanting to know what was happening. The muggles, of course, couldn't see a thing with the still standing muggle repulsion charms. When Sirius entered the house, it is understandable that he completely broke down upon seeing the wreckage. It is my assumption that he was the first to find Harry alive and Voldemort vanished – many reports from that night say that Sirius was frantically screaming. By the time Hagrid arrived to collect Harry, Sirius was vengeful."

James was nodding in agreement. Sirius wouldn't have just curled up and cried. He would have gone after Peter. Padfoot had never been one for planning things out – he would have wanted to find Peter before he ran away.

"Peter was in the vicinity. Whether he was actually concerned for your safety, or whether he arrived when his Dark Mark began to change, it is unclear. But Sirius found him anyway, and cornered him. It is very unfortunate, however, that Peter had a plan. He screamed for everyone around to hear that Sirius had betrayed you, cut off his finger without anyone noticing but Sirius, blew up the street, and escaped. Thirteen muggles died. When the Ministry found Sirius, he was cackling. They arrested him and sent him to Azkaban without a trial for the murder of the muggles and of Peter."

James, who was normally boisterous, blinked at Dumbledore silently. He shook his head over and over again.

"This isn't happening," he whispered. "This isn't real. Peter wouldn't betray us! Peter wouldn't kill anyone! Sirius – Sirius can't have gone to Azkaban!"

James stood up and looked around frantically. "Albus, where is he? He's not in Azkaban! You know he's innocent now, he must be okay!"

Dumbledore, unbeknownst to the Potters, cast a small calming charm and motioned for James to sit back down.

"Yes, James. Sirius is fine. He escaped a year ago, went after Peter again, and thankfully was caught by me, not the Ministry. I have heard his part, and know that he has done nothing wrong. Everything is fine. He's on the run still, but he's alive and sane."

James and Lily found themselves having a hard time adjusting to anything Dumbledore was saying – after all, just moments before (in their minds) they'd been running for their lives from Voldemort. And now, awoken, they were thirteen years in the future and everything – absolutely everything – appeared different.

"Wait, last year? That would be twelve years then, wouldn't it? Escaped? You can't escape! I don't understand –" James rambled and suddenly, his mind drifted to other places. "What about Harry? You've – other relatives? I haven't got relatives, Lily's-" James stopped and stared at Lily in horror.

Dumbledore stood. His authority was clear. "It has been a long thirteen years, I'm afraid. For me to explain everything just moments after you've reappeared would not do you well. However, I think there is one more explanation that can be had tonight."

Dumbledore stared at both of their faces, which were still pale and frantic.

"You have not returned to life simply because you've "willed it". In fact, no one intended to bring you back, or knew for that matter that you could be brought back. A situation such as the one that has occurred this night has most likely never occurred in previous years. It is my belief that you are two of five souls to return to the living. Before I left to retrieve you, another had awoken. And I will leave from our conversation here tonight in search of the other two, who are most likely even more grievously confused than either of you."

Lily and James were silent as Dumbledore held up a small bottle.

"This is a calming drought. I will give it to you tonight, and it will most likely be strong enough to lull you both to sleep also. In the morning, we will discuss what to do of your affairs. I must think on what to tell the Ministry . . . if to tell them at all. This world is not the one you left, I'm afraid."

"Dumbledore, if you know others have and will return, then you must know why?"

Dumbledore inclined his head slightly and nodded grimly.

"Tonight, Lord Voldemort, after thirteen years of hiding and biding his time, has returned to full power. Upon receiving his renewed, powerful form, he engaged in a duel with a wand that brothers his own. When brother wands attempt to harm each other, they cause a peculiar event to occur – Priori Incantatem – which, if one wand overpowers the other, causes said wand to reverse the previous spells it cast. Voldemort, since he has not been able to do wand magic in so long, has not had many other spells cast after he killed you. You appeared as a ghost of yourselves – which I'm assuming you don't remember, as I'm sure you would have mentioned – and now, after the magic has had its time to work, returned to your full bodies."

James suddenly broke out into a loud, boisterous laugh.

Dumbledore sighed and handed Lily the potion. "I will show you both to safe, hidden quarters where you will rest tonight. You both look rather tired despite your thirteen year slumber."

James was still out of control. "How ironic!" He chuckled. "Voldemort kills us, and then he inadvertently brings us back!"

Lily looked at him gravely and grabbed his hand. She followed Dumbledore through a side door that was connected to his office.

"I believe if each of you drink half the bottle, that will do."

Lily took the potion from Dumbledore and handed it to James, who was still smiling.

"Dumbledore . . . you haven't told us anything about Harry. Not that I'm not grateful to be alive, but . . . Harry's what important to us. I know you said he's all right, but could we please be with him tonight? It would calm us more than any potion."

Lily's green eyes were desperate as she pleaded with Dumbledore. James sobered himself and waited for his answer.

Dumbledore's eyes were sad as he answered them. "I am truly sorry to say that I don't think it would be a good idea to reunite with your son tonight. I will have to have a very difficult talk with him in order to convince him that you are alive. I'm sure you understand? People don't normally return from the grave."

Fire came to Lily's eyes as she opened her mouth to plead her case once more. James grabbed her sleeve and slowly shook his head.

"Albus is right, Lily. If Harry's anything like us, he'll fight the truth if it's pushed on him. You have to admit this entire situation is a bit mad. I wouldn't believe it if it wasn't happening to myself."

Lily seemed to shrink back and she gave up hope. Just as she uncorked the lid of the potion, Dumbledore gave them a few lasts words.

"It will give you peace in some way, though, to know that Harry has never forgotten you. Not a day goes by where he doesn't long to have you both with him. Your return will mean the world to him."

After Dumbledore had gone, and the potion was ingested by both of them, they tiredly laid down on the small bed he'd provided them with.

"He'll be fourteen, James, according to what Dumbledore has told us. It seems impossible, doesn't it?" Lily whispered. For the first night in over a year, they would be sleeping without their baby in the next room.

"Yes, but he'll still be ours. That's all that matters."

The next morning, they awoke and finally got to clean themselves up.

Dumbledore was waiting in their room when they returned from the bathroom.

He cleared his throat. "I had a talk with Harry this morning."

Lily and James froze, looking at him wide-eyed.

"Due to recent circumstances where a Death Eater was impersonating a teacher, it is safe to say that Harry was reluctant to believe me when I told him of your return. However, I suppose my reputation precedes me, and it took only a few minutes of explanation to convince him I was truthful."

"So he knows we're here? We can be with him then?"

Dumbledore looked at the Potters gravely. "Soon. But before you go to him, I would suggest that I tell you more about the last thirteen years. I doubt Harry would do them justice."

Dumbledore led them back to his once again empty office and sat them down in comfy chairs. He motioned towards a cabinet.

"Afterwards, if you please, you will always have access to previous Daily Prophets if you desire more detail. But I assure you I have more facts than the daily newspaper."

Only when he had sat down, grabbed a lemon drop, and stared at them for another minute (in which time James became very impatient) did he speak.

"After the night Voldemort attacked you, and he was forced to recede powerless, the Wizarding World lived in peace for ten years. I will only gloss over the particulars, but when Harry arrived at Hogwarts, everything changed. Whether it be because Voldemort knew Harry would be learning magic, or simply because he had finally found a solution to return to power, I do not know. But he convinced one of our professors to let him share his body, and for the entire school year lived on the back of his head."

Lily and James both looked alarmed.

"His head? A teacher? A whole year and you never noticed?" James exclaimed.

Dumbledore gave them a weary look. "I know you will wish to speak much during the next couple of minutes, but please refrain."

"Voldemort wanted inside of Hogwarts to obtain the Sorcerer's Stone, which would give him immortality. I stored it here when he tried going after my friend Nicholas to obtain it. In the end, however, Harry managed to stop his professor from getting the stone and Voldemort from returning."

James and Lily looked perplexed, not satisfied with his explanation at all. But Dumbledore kept talking sternly.

"The next year, an old Death Eater tried to revive his master by giving a young girl a diary which housed a memory of Voldemort. The memory of Voldemort used the soul of the young girl to attempt to gain a body once more. He opened the Chamber of Secrets and petrified a couple of students. Because the girl was the sister of Harry's best friend, the pair of them tried to go to the Chamber and save her. And they did, and Voldemort was thwarted once more."

"And, of course, last year Sirius escaped. Harry played a huge part in freeing him, you'll be happy to know. By coincidence, Peter had been playing the role of his best friend's rat for the past couple years. Sirius, while in Azkaban, saw a photo of the boy on the Daily Prophet with the rat, knew Peter would be at Hogwarts with Harry, and escaped to find him. Harry happened to be with his friend when Sirius was finally able to corner Peter, explained his story, and the rest is history. Unfortunately, Peter escaped once more, therefore, we have no way of proving Sirius's innocence to the Ministry."

"And at last, we arrive at this year. Hogwarts hosted the legendary Triwizard Tournament, in which three young witches or wizards compete (one from each of three schools). As I mentioned earlier, a Death Eater was impersonating a teacher, and he managed to place Harry's name in the drawing of candidates without anyone's knowledge, and Harry was forced to be a forth competitor. Everything went as smoothly as possible until last night, when Voldemort killed the other Hogwarts candidate and used Harry's blood to return to life. Harry is physically fine, but shaken up emotionally."

The Potters looked at Dumbledore, slack jawed from his rushed over explanations. Those stories sounded like they had much, much more to them. But Dumbledore never elaborated unless he thought it was wise to do so.

"You talk like Harry was a central point in all of this. Surely you're exaggerating! I mean, he's what . . . only fourteen right now, right?"

Dumbledore looked at James and shook his head grimly.

"You remember the prophecy?"

James and Lily looked at each other, understanding and dread filling their eyes.

"No . . . " Lily whispered, and she didn't mean that she didn't remember the prophecy. It was all too clear that she remembered it perfectly.

"Voldemort heard part of the prophecy, and that is the reason he decided to attack you that night, as you know. When his curse rebounded off of Harry, it left a lightening-shaped scar on his forehead. Voldemort marked him as his equal."

Lily's green eyes were starting to return to their normal bright color, compared to the dull green the day before. They sparkled as she looked at the headmaster.

"That's just absurd. How could Voldemort believe a baby would be his downfall?"

Dumbledore gave a small smile. "Tom never did think rationally."

James was being uncharacteristically silent. Dumbledore studied him carefully.

"James?"

James shook his head once, his face set in a hard expression.

"If you knew, sir, then why? Why would you let all of this happen to him? He's just a boy! You know as well as any that Voldemort fears you more than he's ever feared anyone else! Harry didn't even need to get involved!"

Dumbledore's eyes saddened. Lily, who had been ready to rally behind her husband, found that Dumbledore's solemn expression almost made her feel sorry for him.

"I'm afraid that no matter how much I interfered, it all would have still come back to Harry and Voldemort. Voldemort believes in the prophecy, James. And that is the most important factor. The more he believes Harry will be his defeat or vice versa, the closer reality mirrors the prophecy. I cannot change Voldemort's mind."

"But you knew he was probably still alive," said Lily quietly. Her green eyes were sad and defeated. This entire conversation was a hundred times worse than the first conversation they'd had about the prophecy before Harry was even born – now, they knew it was definitely their son.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, of course. But I did not know where. You were in the Order. You know how difficult it was to gain any type of solid information on his whereabouts whenever people actually knew he was alive! But trying to find him when he was only a fraction of a soul . . . and when I could only speculate that I was correct . . . it just wasn't plausible."

A silence overcame the room. The Potters knew that the more they talked about the past thirteen years, the more upset they would become. The only positive about the years they'd been gone seemed to be that Harry survived – and Sirius escaped. They both silently thought that moving on to the present would be the only way to deal with the past.

"Despite your authority, Headmaster, I insist that we see Harry. He is our son."

Lily didn't like the cold tone in James's voice. It didn't belong there; James was supposed to be carefree and funny and optimistic. The war had changed that, of course, but the one thing he had always remained was loyal. Now that Peter had betrayed them, and Dumbledore was telling them all these confusing, unbelievable and incomplete tales of grandeur – well, maybe James was questioning his judgment.

Dumbledore drew in a long, deep breath – a sign of nervousness that he rarely showed – and nodded grimly.

"I'm going to warn you, though, that Harry has suffered horrible trauma in the past day. He saw another student, not a close friend but certainly a comrade, killed before his eyes. I have explained to the best of my ability your return. He – well, he accepts it as much as he can at the moment. He's very confused and as I said earlier – there was a Death Eater impersonating a teacher – so he is also wary of whom he can trust."

"We'll have that to bond over, then," said James bitterly.

Lily grabbed his hand as if to restrain him as they stood. Dumbledore stood also, and from behind his desk he pulled out a cloak.

"You still have it!" James exclaimed, his previous hostility forgotten for the moment.

Both Lily and Dumbledore were smiling.

"Well, to a certain extent. I gave it back to its proper owner when he reached Hogwarts. I am only borrowing it again, so that you may travel to the hospital wing without causing a stir. I am still unsure of whether we can trust the Ministry with the news of your return – or, if the Wizarding world would even be able to accept it."

James ignored Dumbledore's words and ran his hands over his old cloak.

"He's had it, then? Does he use it?"

Dumbledore laughed. "You may have been separated from him, James, but he still is your son."

Lily, who had been hoping that Harry would never be quite so much like his father was as a teenager, found herself smiling as well. There had been a reason she'd fallen in love with James.

James draped the cloak over himself and Lily. Dumbledore motioned them forward and out of the office.

"Remember that you're invisible. Try to be quiet," Dumbledore whispered.

James, of course, was used to being under the cloak, but Lily found herself walking more carefully.

The castle had not aged. It was so heartwarming to see everything again – the portraits, the knights, the occasional student. The world they had woken up to was much, much different than anything they'd left behind. But Hogwarts had remained the same.

When they reached the hospital wing, voices were carrying out from behind the closed doors.

"Don't ask him that, Ronald!"

"I wasn't really going to, Hermione! I was just wondering! Can't I just have a normal conversation?"

"It's not normal."

"It was until you started –"

"If you don't shut up we'll get kicked out!"

Dumbledore pushed the door to the hospital wing open and Lily and James were met with the sight of two arguing teenagers.

The girl, Hermione, blushed bright red when she saw the Headmaster.

"Sir! We – we were just checking up on him! We didn't talk to him, or – or wake him up even."

The boy, who had bright red hair, nodded vigorously.

Dumbledore sighed. "I would have expected no less. But I would ask that you leave before Madam Pomfrey finds you."

Hermione and Ronald left with concerned and sheepish expressions on their faces.

"His best friends. They've been very concerned. But Harry isn't ready to talk about what happened yet. I will ask you not to speak of it unless he does?"

Lily and James nodded, although Dumbledore still could not see them. At the moment, the least of their worries were with what they would say to Harry. They could see him now – just that bunch of messy black hair sticking out of a pile of blankets on the nearest bed.

Dumbledore took the Invisibility Cloak as James pulled it off of them and strode forward.

Lily ran forward and dropped to her knees next to the bed. Looking at Harry with wide, excited eyes, she found his hand underneath the blankets and grasped it.

"He's so big!" She whispered.

James sat down in the chair beside the bed and grabbed the glasses on the stand.

Smiling, he examined them. "Poor boy. He ended up as blind as I am."

Lily ignored her husband and slowly pulled the covers away from Harry's face.

"James, he looks just like you!"

James stared down at Harry's face and saw that Lily was not exaggerating. Harry's nose, his chin, his lips, his hair – everything was nearly identical to James's appearance.

"Wow," he whispered. Harry had of course looked like him when he was a baby, but now it was actually uncanny.

Except for one tiny detail.

James leaned forward and moved Harry's hair back slightly. A lightening-shaped scar adorned his forehead. Lily reached forward as if to touch it, but seemed to remember at the last moment that Harry was sleeping.

There was silence as both of the Potters were abruptly broken from their amazement and reminded of the fate their son might face.

"He's a little skinnier than you were, though, I think," said Lily nervously, trying to change the subject.

James was having a hard time grasping the concept that this teenager was supposed to be the baby he'd just died for only hours ago. He wanted to do so many things – he wanted to scream at Dumbledore for all the unanswered questions, and he wanted to find Peter and make him pay for almost killing off his entire family. James wanted to go fight Voldemort and tell him that Harry wouldn't be his "equal" anymore. He wanted to wake Harry up and ask him millions of questions – he wished that he didn't have to ask Harry so many questions. He should have already known the answers.

Out of all the things James wished he could have done or said, he stuck with less daring for once in his life.

"I hope he still has your eyes," he whispered.

Lily, who had never really lost her smile, smiled even more brightly.

"He's so perfect," she said.

James smiled playfully at her. "Will you still think that if he wakes up and my looks aren't the only thing he's inherited?"

Lily rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to reply, when suddenly her smiling face tightened to shock. Her eyes flashed down to her hand, which Harry was now clasping tightly.

"He's - he's holding my hand!"

James ignored her and drew in a deep breath as he looked down at his son.

Harry was awake, his bright green eyes staring straight at his father with fear.

AN: This was posted purely for fun. I like stories where Lily and James return and just wanted to write something about it. That being said, if any details are wrong, it is because I wrote this quickly and without a specific purpose. Also, I know that I made some stuff up regarding the explanation Dumbledore gives Lily and James about everything that happened at Godric's Hollow (seriously, what the heck actually happened, that whole missing day thing drives me crazy!).

I also know that this is probably thee most unoriginal Lily/James returns! fic. I wasn't intending to write something new, though.

Maybe one day I'll update this and finish the story with Lily/James alive.