Title: Time And Time Again

Author name: Moonstarlet

Author email: sailorcomet18@yahoo.com

Category:Humor (atleast, I think it's funny)

Keywords: Harry, Lily, James

Spoilers: PS/SS, COS, POA, GOF

Rating: 5 stars... I mean... PG Summary: Voldemort plans to go back in time to kill James and Lily before Harry is ever born. Can Harry save his mom and dad? What happens when the mom *likes* the son? Plus, the Marauders at 15...oh lordy!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, and all characters belong to JKR and Warner Bros.(except Mrs. McElheny, she's mine! Mine, I tell you! Mwahahahaha..) I am making no money from this, and it sucks because I'm broke.

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1975, Summer

"I know you're there," Mrs. McElheny called out as she surveyed the disaster area that, up until five minutes ago, was her flower garden. "Come out right now and I might go easy on you!"

"Yeah, right," a tall black-haired boy mouthed to the person standing next to him, well hidden behind a large tree. They knew perfectly well the old lady would only be too happy to force them to repair her lawn. So...maybe it was their fault...it's just soo hard to control a rampaging, giant, purple rabbit.

"She's not looking our way; we should make a run for it." A second tall black-haired boy whispered to the first.

"Okay. On three. One...two..."

"Hold it right there!" Mrs. McElhney appeared directly in front of the two boys, blocking their escape.

The two boys exchanged quick glances, knowing immediately what to do.

They ran, at full speed, towards the frail old woman.

Poor Mrs. McElhney thought they were going to attack her and rolled herself into a ball. ("Head tucked in!" The always perky self-defense teacher had said.)

Laughing maniacally, Sirius Black and James Potter raced down the street. *************************

1995, Summer

"I know you're there," Petunia Dursley called out shrilly. "You come out right now or I'll make sure Vernon hears of this!"

A few moments passed before the bedroom door opened, and a tall black- haired boy appeared.

Petunia's eyes widened slightly, before she forced her features to return to normal. She had always had a slight crush on James Potter. Not that she would ever tell anyone that, least likely of all her nephew, his son. But the few times that she had met James, she had been forced to admit, he was one fine specimen of manhood.

And everyday she had to watch his son become more and more of a heart- throb. Everyday she had to be reminded of how much better her sister was at... well, everything.

Petunia pushed back the bitter anger that always came when she thought of her sister, cleared her throat and addressed her nephew.

"There's trash to be taken out. The lawn needs mowing and I want you to prune the roses (they're looking straggly) and then wash and wax the car. When you're done with that, we'll see if anything else needs done."

Harry nodded dully before turning and heading down the stairs and into the kitchen. Of course Petunia knew why Harry had been so down that summer. Just before he returned from that god-awful school that June, a letter had come for her. (It was only addressed to her: Petunia Dursley, The Bedroom at the End of the Hall, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Almost as if they knew that she was slightly more open about these kind of things than her husband.)

Some student had died during some contest and Harry was somehow involved. The sender, Professor Dumblebee or something, had asked that she try to go a little easy on him this summer.

Well, Petunia didn't know what that boy's death had to do with Harry, but the best way to beat the blues was to keep your mind occupied. So she gave him even more chores to do this year than ever before. It was good for him. Really. It had absolutely nothing to do with Lily.

Petunia moved to the kitchen sink, looking through the window and watched the boy lower bags of garbage into trash cans. Lily had all the luck. *******************

1975, Summer

Growing up, Petunia assumed that being the oldest Evans girl, she'd be the best at everything. It was, after all, her birthright. And for a while that was true.

Petunia had always thought of herself as a suave, sophisticated beauty. True, she was no supermodel, but she did have long blonde hair and perfect blue eyes. (No glasses for her: Petunia had twenty-twenty vision.) She had a tall curvy body, with long shapely legs. There was not a single flaw on her body.

Lily on the other hand, had short, bright red hair with unmanageable curls. Just like a clown, Petunia always said. Lily was always reading some book and spouting off unimportant facts at odd intervals. She was short and so toothpick straight, she could be mistaken for a boy.

Petunia wasn't very smart, and sometimes she was a little snippety, but all she had to do was smile and the boys would fall all over themselves. Petunia smiled a lot.

Then Lily turned 15. Her unruly red hair turned into shiny, fire- colored waves. She came back from that school (if you can call a bunch of witches and warlocks chanting over a cauldron school) 3 inches taller and with the beginnings of a shapely body. Her face, which, before, had always been hidden in a book, finally showed itself, revealing porcelain smooth skin and uncanny green eyes.

Lily was beautiful, but no more so than Petunia. The difference, the one thing that made Lily the star and Petunia the sideshow, was her mysteriousness. Where did she go every school year? What were the books she read...the ones she hid behind her back whenever someone approached? The boys followed Lily everywhere, quickly forgetting about Petunia, always trying to get Lily's attention, always her asking questions.

But no one could get her to talk about her school. Lily was an impenetrable fortress when it came to that. Unfortunately, Petunia was not.

One day, in the first week of August, Lily was sitting in the park reading 202 Medicinal Herbs and What To Do With Them, when she felt something hit her head.

"Ow!" Her hand went to the back of her head and came back with a small spot of blood on her palm. "Wha?"

"Freak!"

Lily turned her head towards the sound. Three boys from the neighborhood, Nick Crophedy, Dylan Stafford and Frank Lewis, were standing about 10 meters from her. Lily considered asking them what they thought they were doing, but something made her change her mind. The way they were looking at her, the way they were standing...She didn't want to mess with them right now.

Dylan leant down and picked up a largish rock. He bounced it a few times in his hand. "Making another love potion, are we?"

Lily shook her head, almost replying that love potions were illegal, before realizing...they knew! How?

Then, Lily remembered the essay she's just written for History of Magic: Why Muggles Burned Witches Throughout History.

The first rock hit her shin. The second hit her shoulder. By the time the third one hit, Lily was running at top speed.

The three boys laughed maniacally, chasing her down the street.

******************** 1995, Summer

"Hot, isn't it?" Dudley said casually, taking another lick from his large ice cream cone.

Harry tried to ignore him, but the ice cream looked so good. Creamy. Sweet. Cold.

He let out a small moan, then went back to his work.

All I do is work, Harry though bitterly. His back was aching from bending over so long, and the back of his neck was surely bright red and peeling. His fingers and palms had cuts all over them from thorns. He was tired, hungry and bruised.

But he wasn't thinking about Cedric.

So...all in all, the summer wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be.

He had sent numerous letters to Sirius and Professor Dumbledore, asking if he could spend the summer with Ron and the Weasleys, but each response came back negative. They thought Privet Drive was the safest place for him considering the happenings of the last school year. Namely, Lord Voldemort regaining his physical body.

Deep down, Harry was slightly glad that he wasn't allowed to visit the Burrow. He wasn't sure how he'd be able to deal with Mrs. Weasley's mothering and Ron's questioning. They, he knew, wanted to make sure that he was okay with Cedric's death, but he wasn't sure if he was okay with it.

If he hadn't offered to share the trophy with Cedric, he's still be alive. If his name hadn't been pulled out of the Goblet, the Tournament would have gone the way it should have: Cedric would have won, Voldemort wouldn't have gotten his body, Barty Crouch might not have died.

So many "ifs." There was nothing Harry could do to change the past, he knew this, but, oh, how he wished....

Sometimes, late at night when he couldn't sleep because of nightmares (they came more often now), he would imagine how it could have been. He imagined that his parents were alive and he wasn't "famous Harry Potter." He was just some normal kid, with chores and homework, who got yelled at by his mum for having a messy room. Maybe he had siblings, a brother and a sister, maybe. Maybe he got into fights with them. That'd be nice. Just to be normal.

Harry sighed. There was no point wishing for what couldn't be.

He stood up from the rose bushes and began stretching. His muscles were tight and hurt from kneeling for so long in such an uncomfortable position.

As he headed towards the garage, he watched Dudley eating his ice cream, walking to the front porch . Suddenly Dudley slipped on a slippery patch of grass.

SPLAT!

Dudley landed head first into his ice cream cone.

Harry buried his face in the crook of his arm to keep from laughing out loud.

*Yeah. This summer isn't so bad.*

**************************************************************************** * A/N2: Hi, me again. Thanx for reading, now please press the little grey button to review...