Return Of The Father (Harry Potter fanfiction) **COMPLETED**

:: Chapter 12: First year ::

As soon as James left, Hermione flung herself onto Harry and engulfed him in a big hug.

"Harry! Your dad's alive! He's wonderful!" She exclaimed tearfuly.

Harry hugged Hermione back. "I know he is."

"Blimey mate, he looks so much like you!" Ron said, staring at the doorway. "A bit older looking and taller, but really like you!"

Harry smiled happily. "I know,"

"Where did he go?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I haven't told my dad about my years at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore's lent us his Penseive so it would be easier. Dad went to fetch Sirius and Remus as they missed quite a lot, and well, I wanted you guys to be there as well." He finished.

Ron and Hermione were absolutely beaming. Hermione said, "Harry, he's your dad. Don't skip anything alright? I mean, your life with the Dursley's."

Harry grimaced, but he knew she was right. He nodded. Suddenly, they heard a bang.

"I hope no one saw our feet, Prongs. The three of us really are too big for this cloak now, not like old times. You must be getting fat-"

"I was dead, you big tosser!"

"Then it must be me. OUCH, Remus! Gerrof! You're stepping on my FOOT!"

Harry grinned. They were here.

"Sirius!" He exclaimed, hugging his godfather after the three removed the cloak and stopped their banter. "Remus!"

"Harry!" Sirius said grinning at his godson as he held him tight.

"Hello, Harry," Remus said laughing. "Caught up with your dad alright?"

"Yeah-" He was interrupted by a high pitched squeal.

"Sirius! Professor Lupin! It's been so long!" Hermione said happily.

"As bright as ever Hermione?" Sirius asked smiling at her and Hermione beamed.

"Hermione, call me Remus. I'm not your Professor now, am I?" Remus asked.

Hermione nodded. Ron came forward and shook the men's hands, grinning happily.

"Looks like you've met Jimmy over here." Sirius said grinning.

"Jimmy? I thought you'd stopped calling me that ages ago," James asked amused.

"I'll call you whatever I want," Sirius said breezily.

"Whatever floats your boat, Padfoot," James said, moving over to bring the table forward. "Let's get this show on the road!"

"Ready, Harry?" Harry nodded. "Now, just think of the memory you would like to share and I'll extract them. Why don't you start with the Dursleys?"

Harry closed his eyes and thought hard. James extracted the memories and dropped then into the Penseive. Then, one by one, everybody went inside the Penseive.

They saw a five year old Harry cautiously approach Vernon Dursley.

"Uncle Vernon? Why dwon't I get gifts for my birthdway?" He asked, unable to comprehend the descrimination shown to him.

Vernin grew a nasty shade of purple.

"FREAKS DONT GET GIFTS FOR THEIR BIRTHDAY!" He bellowed.

A terrified Harry scurried out of the room.

James looked murderous. "You never got gifts for your birthday?" He asked angrily.

"Well, I got a coat hanger and Dudley's old socks once," Harry muttered. "It doesn't matter."