Call me foolish. Call me na�ve. Call me ignorant. Call me whatever you like. I�ve always thought the words Avada Kedavra meant dead. One hundred percent, absolute, no loop holes dead. Apparently I missed something. Of course, all spells have the potential to go awry, that�s just a given. I guess I just never thought it applied.

I try not to gape as Dumbledore continues. All the experiments Voldemort performed on himself affected the way his magic worked. He tainted everything he�d eventually do, and somehow tipped the scale in our favor; though he never knew it. Idly I wonder if he�d still have done everything personally if he�d found out. I mentally shrug. It doesn�t matter. I�m getting my family back, and that�s the only important thing.

Looking sideways, I�m glad to find I�m not the only one torn. Had we not paid enough attention to our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor? Or had we simply never been told? He says these cases are rare, of old, deep magic. Every act performed by the Dark Lord after his rise to power was being reversed. The mad were sane. The dead alive. It made no sense. But there was no way to contest it. Not with all the healthy evidence.

This was being kept secret, until the very last deed was undone. I can only nod as he crosses the room. There�s a timid knock at the door and my heart jumps into my throat. The door opens and there are footsteps, and a young voice says, �You wanted to see me Professor?�

A soft gasp sounds beside me, and I reach over to pat reassuringly, while trying to look around the Headmaster.

They are having a quiet conversation, and Dumbledore says something about a conversation they�d had before. After a while the old wizard steps away. Eyes I remember from so very long ago follow him as he walks back to his desk. I forget how to breathe. I�ve been told he looked like me, but I�d never guessed�

She�s shaking now, but I�m too frozen to offer comfort. It�s like being hit by a Petrificus curse, without the comfortable numb feeling. On the contrary, I feel like I�ve just been ripped open. Everything is raw and painful, and there�s nothing I can do about it.

Striking green eyes, identical to the pair beside me, slowly fall on me. It�s like staring at my doppelganger. At first he appears to be attempting to work something out. His brow is furrowed slightly, and through the mess of dark hair, I can just make out the legendary trademark scar. Then his eyes widen slightly in some sort of realization. He takes a step back and I�m not alone in jumping to my feet.

�Harry,� she says.

He starts to tremble, very slightly.

�P-Professor?� he stammers, gaze frantically turning on the white wizard.

�There�s nothing to fear Harry. It is as we speculated. Voldemort ensured his own undoing. These are your parents.�

This doesn�t seem to comfort him in the least. In fact, he turns to look at us again, then shakes his head, slowly backing away. He connects with the wall, and his chest is heaving, eyes glazed. He�s afraid, panicking. I don�t blame him.

�Harry-�

�It�s alright Albus,� I say, surprised at how calm I sound.

Lily is crying, and I notice his eyes lilt to her, tears springing forward, but refusing to spill. He attempts to speak, but instead emits a strangled sound, and quickly closes his mouth, swallowing roughly.

I feel I should say something, do something perhaps, but I find he�s already drawn his wand. It�s best not to provoke him.

The door opens again, and Lily squeaks. Harry starts, turning sharply. I catch a glimpse of two figures in the doorway before Harry gives a strange cry and rushes forward. He throws himself at the first figure, and begins to sob. Two arms go around him and I watch as, shuffling the teen, they enter. If I was startled before�

They don�t notice us, both so intent on comforting my son, who�s almost completely engulfed in the folds of dark robes. There�s a wrenching pull in my chest as I watch them. Has it been so long?

And then my eyes meet a pair of supernatural ones; gold flecks glinting in the warm afternoon light. He goes rigid, and the other looks toward the cause. He also stiffens, and I can feel the urge to drop to the ground and slip into hysteria wash over me.

�Sirius, Remus, thank you for coming so quickly.�

Their names, even from Dumbledore�s mouth, roll over my consciousness and make me shiver.

Remus nods curtly. Sirius just stares, one hand stroking Harry�s head comfortingly. He�s quieted, but still clings to Sirius as though the world were coming down about him, which perhaps, in a way it is.

I feel guilty for causing him the pain. And yet, I don�t. I�m glad to be alive, to be standing here, in an office I haven�t seen for years, with people I haven�t stopped loving. That makes me feel guilty too.

We�re standing, staring at each other, unsure of what to say, do, or believe.

Remus comes to us, stands before us, sharp eyes roving over us. He inhales deeply, and I�ve never been more grateful for his curse. The next thing I know, I�m in his arms, being hugged so tightly my heart explodes. He withdraws and looks into my eyes, hands on either side of my face. I smile through tears I didn�t realize I�d begun to shed. Something flitters through his eyes and I know it all too well.

He pulls away, almost as if he were burned, and turns to Lily, who falls into his arms hysterically. I�m relieved one of us is; it all seems so unnatural. Sirius makes his way over, gently tugging Harry. He�s always trusted Moony�s judgment, two hundred percent.

Harry however, doesn�t want to get too close, and ducks under his arm. Sirius hugs me, and I can no longer hold it in. With a choked groan, I cry into his neck, and he holds fast. I can feel tears as they drop into my hair.

�James�� he whispers.

I hold him tighter, trying to right my own world as much as his. The guilt is back, but it�s a different kind. For once, once I had another life, another choice. Before Lily, before Harry. A life of tangled sheets, of endearments whispered under half moons, on long nights. Of a shared, single heart, that held refuge in three chests. Of a once pure, virgin love, lain waste by dark forces. I want it back as much as ever, but know it cannot be.

When we pull away, I notice Harry�s behind Remus, clutching his robes like a lost child. Lily is trying to coax him to look at her, but his gaze is fixed on the floor. And when she steps forward, he flinches and presses his face to Remus� back.

Lily is hurt. She hasn�t yet admitted it to herself, not like me. There�s no reason for Harry to burst into overjoyed tears and rush into our arms. We may have brought him into the world, may love him more than life itself (I daresay we�ve proven that) but we�re not his parents. We haven�t dried tears caused by inhuman nightmares. We haven�t lain awake at night worrying. Haven�t comforted fears. Shared meals. Listened and praised triumphs.

From what Dumbledore�s told us, my dearest loving friends have. As soon as they could, they took him from Lily�s family (something we�d never considered and are thoroughly disgusted by) and brought him home. They are very much his parents. More so then we may ever be.

Sirius turns, quietly beckoning the boy. Harry goes to him, if somewhat reluctant to get close to me.

�Harry,� he says softly, rubbing his back soothingly, �This is your dad. This is James.�

His eyes flutter up to look at me, and quickly look back down. Sirius leans into him, whispering something in his ear that brings his eyes back up to meet mine.

I smile and hold out my hand. He seems surprised, and extends his own. We shake, and there is a small tilt in his features. A small change, but reassuring.

Remus brings Lily over, and Harry�s introduced to her. She seems to have realized finally, for instead of rushing forward and squeezing him until he�s able to free himself, she steps forward. Harry skittishly steps away. But Remus has his arm, Sirius his shoulders, and they soothe him with their presence. Lily caresses the side of his face and smiles gently. He returns the smile shyly, and shuffles a bit when she kisses his forehead.

We start to talk, and it�s almost as if nothing�s really changed. Harry gets uncomfortable and retreats to Remus again, watching us from behind him.

In the end, we decide it would be best for Harry if Lily and I moved in with Sirius, Remus, and him. This is Harry�s final year at school and with any luck, when it ends we�ll be able to work on a more permanent relationship.

Albus announces the arrival of dinner and asks whether we�d like to go to the Great Hall. Harry wants to go home. And while it�s the middle of the week and he still has two days of important classes, Dumbledore excuses him, given no one minds. It�s a tense moment as everyone in the room tries to discern who�s in position to answer.

Finally, I turn to them. �Well?� I say, and they smile in acquiescence.

�Yes, I think we�ll take Harry home Albus,� Sirius says.

I can see the relief in Harry�s eyes, on his face, in his stance. Not everything will change. His life hasn�t been completely turned upside down.

He looks at me and smiles. In that moment I know. We�ll be okay. Harry will open up to us. We�ll work things out. Most importantly, I�ll have what I always wanted, slightly different, but just as sweet. The best of both worlds. Forever.