The Boys Who Lived

Prologue

Harry Potter killed Voldemort on October 31st, 1981. Both his parents were killed as casualties, and Albus Dumbledore decided he would grow up with his aunt and uncle (instead of with his godfather) where he would be abused, belittled, and miserable.

These are the unfortunate facts of the life of Harry James Potter, the poor yet unpitied Boy Who Lived.

.....Or are they?

What if two potters survived the attack?

Let us go back to the morning of The Day. The day you-know-who was vanquished.

It is a brisk morning in Godric's Hollow, and a twenty year old Lily Potter is in the kitchen of her flat, doing dishes and humming along to the radio. It's quiet, "her boys" asleep upstairs, the cat sleeping on the couch in the living room.

"Babe, how many times have I told you that it's easier to just clean dishes with magic?" James asks, breaking the quiet and hugging his wife from behind.

"Babe, how many times have I told you that I was raised to do chores by hand and I'm not just gonna whip my wand out for everything?" Lily retorts, turning around to kiss James before turning off the sinks faucet and pouring a cup of coffee for each of them. "is the baby still asleep?" She asks, sitting down at the table.

"Yes, but not for long, knowing him." James says, smiling as he took off his glasses and cleaned them with the hem of his AC/DC t-shirt (Remus bought it as a gift when he became Head Boy). "By the way, Lilypad, I'm going to go pick up the Marauders around seven for our movie marathon. Peter isn't coming, he hates horror"

The four boys had started a tradition in year six to stay up late and watch horror movies on halloween. Lily would bake cookies, brownies, and make a really tasty energy drink mocktail to help them stay up later, and the boys would each bring their favorite snacks.

"Okay love. I think we should let Harry stay up a bit to see his uncles though, we can put him to bed at 8 and put a muffling spell on the living room so the movies don't wake him" Lily says, sipping her coffee and working on the crossword from yesterday's local muggle newspaper.

"Sure" there was a bumping sound from upstairs and then a quiet 'mama?' "Your son is awake," James says, still leaning against the kitchen counter.
                            ~~~~~~~~~

Harry was already in his pajamas when seven o'clock rolled around, playing with his mini broomstick. James was following  him around the house making sure he wasn't going to break something, or crash into the cat. Again. Lily was in the kitchen, frosting the cupcakes she had made.

"James, it's seven! Go get the boys, you're late!"

"Oh fuck!" James looks at his son, praying he doesn't repeat the word. "Come on Harry, we have to put the broom away now." He starts to take the broom from his green-eyed carbon copy. Harry stares up at his father with big puppy dog eyes, and James almost caves. "No, Faun. I have to go get Uncles Padfoot and Moony."

"Mo-ey?" Harry asks.

"Yeah, Faun! Mo-ey! I have to go get Mo-ey!"

"Okay dada, bye bye!" Harry waves a chubby toddler at his father as James goes into the kitchen to grab the keys and kiss Lily goodbye.

"Bye hon, love you!" He says, heading out the door.

"Love you more!" Lily shouts from the kitchen.

Little did they both know, those seven little words would be the last ones they ever said to each other.