The Mortality of James Potter

By: Bananamoonbelly

Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing belong to J.K. Rowling, not Harry, not Ron, nor Hermione, nor James or Lily. I wish I did, but then again, she does the best job at it. I am making no money off of this work of fiction, and it remains as such: a work of fiction. Any characters or ideas I create however (crappy as though they might be) are mine. Everything else = Warner Brothers, J.K. Rowling and others.

Full Summary - AU- James Potter was supposed to die on October 31st 1981, but even as he comes to learn the truth of why, he is faced with his ultimate mortality after an accidental trip to the future revels to him more than he was ever supposed to learn. 1997 is a lot different than 1976, and James soon discovers that Voldemort has risen to power years after he had been fabled to be defeated by James' son, Harry Potter. Now, in a determined rush to go back to the past to change the future, James, aided by Dumbledore, will do everything in his power to destroy Voldemort before the legendary prophecy can be made. James Potter can feel as the timeline attempts to correct itself in the past, but James will do everything in his power to change the future by changing the past. Will he be able to find and destroy all of the Horcruxes before his time runs out, and face Voldemort in place of his son? Only time will tell, and time is always against us.

The Mortality of James Potter

By: Bananamoonbelly

Chapter One: Look-a-Likes

James Potter was cold, and to make matters worse, his head swam the moment he sat up, his vision was swarmed with strange, hazy blotches of light and color. Ugh, where am I? He wondered and proceeded to rub a hand across his face, wiping away something that felt suspiciously like dirt and water. Feeling around for his glasses, James began to feel panic steeping in; the explosion of light had seemingly blinded him. Where are they? I had them on when— James froze in shock, his thoughts finally coming to the realization of what had occurred in Dumbledore's office with the Time-Turner. James, shaken and still in pursuit of his glasses, was about to call for help when he heard another voice yell out inside.

"Sectumsempra!" The voice called out and James, still unable to see, heard a strangled cry and the sound of something heavy hitting the wet floors with a tremendous slap. James heard more groaning and a desperate cry of apology a moment later. Sounds like a duel is taking place?

"Hello?" James asked after a minute and he attempted to stand, cursing heavily under his breath that he still could not find his glasses. He stretched out his hands in front of him hoping to find the person who had called out the spell. His eyes still burned from the light but he could gradually see his vision (poor as it already was) was returning to him. He didn't recognize the spell that had just been called, but he hoped that he wouldn't be stupid enough to wander into the middle of a duel. "Hello?" He tried again, voice raspier than before.

"You could have nearly killed him, you fool! Where did you learn this spell?" A third voice admonished, and James was feeling pretty irritated by this point, where the hell were these people standing?

The voice sounded similar to Snivellus' and James couldn't help but retort, "I'm right here, for heaven's sake! I didn't kill anyone and I certainly didn't fire any spell and I can't even see right now enough to duel."

There was silence and James began to doubt that the voice really belonged to Snape, It doesn't sound exactly the same, a little off, he thought, before the Snape-like-voice spoke again. James was finally able to locate the voice after he had felt his way passed a wall to his left. Those in question resembled blurry figures more so than actual people but he approached them without much hesitation.

"What is the meaning of this, Mr. Potter?" The Snape-like-voice asked, and he appeared to be extremely angry at one of the other figures. James heard him murmuring another spell under his breath before he picked up one of the figures lying prone on the ground. James squinted as his vision further adjusted to the dim lighting of the room. The boy (man?) on the floor appeared to be crying as he was lifted by the Snape-sound-a-like, he was skinny and blonde but James couldn't further decipher his features. The tall one lifting the blonde boy definitely had a Snape-like form, however.

"Mr. Potter, you will tell me where you learned that spell," The one James was fairly certain was Snape said, and it sounded like a threat. " Take yourself to the Headmaster's office. I will deal with you later."

The third figure looked a little shaken. "Sir, I—" He began but James cut him off irritably, wondering why this other guy was responding to his name.

"Look, I can't see you very clearly, but you have no right telling the Head Boy what to do, Snivellus." James squinted again, wishing dearly that he could make out the others' features. "And seeing as I am without my glasses, I would appreciate it if one of you would escort me to the Headmaster's office as well, seeing as I owe him an apology." The tall man sneered in such a way that James could barely make it out as it were, and stormed from the room, robes flaring out behind him as he went.

"Enough of this, take that doppelganger with you," Snape said as he left. "If I have any reason to suspect that you've been in my stores again, stealing Polyjuice Potion ingredients, believe me when I say that I will do everything in my power to get you and your little friend over there expelled."

"Ployjuice Potion?" The other boy murmured, and James felt the heavy gaze of the other dark-haired boy. "Stop fooling around guys, this isn't the time for this!" When James offered no reply, the other boy spoke again. "Ron? Or maybe…Hermione?" He seemed desperate now, as though he were terrified of looking at James.

"Excuse me, who? I'm definitely not a 'Hermione' and I definitely don't look like a 'Ron,'" James said, beginning to feel annoyed once again. "My name is James. James Potter. You know, Head Boy, star Chaser of the Gryffindor Quidditch team? Who the hell are you?"

"Wait, James Potter?" The other boy exclaimed, and James nodded and huffed impatiently. "That's impossible."

"No, it really isn't, seeing as I am here. Physically standing in front of you and might I add, growing rather irritated at each impasse," James said and continued search for his glasses. This bloke was starting to give him a headache.

"Oh, are these yours?" The other boy asked, and held out a familiar shape towards James. "They were right beside your foot."

My glasses! James hurriedly snatched them out of the other's hands and forced them onto his face, feeling for the whole world like he was being reunited with an old friend as he did so. I can finally see!

And when he did see, he nearly fainted at the sight of, for there before him, was an exact copy of himself.

"What the hell," James cried and did a double take. "What are you playing at, mate?" The other black-haired, green-eyed (ah, there was a bit of a difference, James noted) stared at him like he had grown three heads.

"That's what I would like to know," other boy demanded. "If this some kind of joke, you coming in here and proclaiming you're my dead father than I promise you I will—" James felt something in his stomach flip; a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and he wasn't even aware that he had been perspiring.

"Dead…dead father?" James said but before the confusion could settle in over the remark, he felt his eyes widening. James Potter prided himself on many things, one being his intelligence and another his ability to pick up on finer details. Not that this is exactly a finer detail. The teen in front of him was very much real, very much sporting the same messy black hair and Potter-familial features that James saw in himself, and in his own father. The eyes are all wrong though, he stared closer and the nose is a bit smaller, not as long.

He tried to swallow but his mouth and his words had all but abandoned him for his shock. Now he knew why time travel was outlawed, why traveling to a future time was a decidedly unintelligent thing to do. "I suppose this would be a horrible time to inquire about the date?"

"It's…it's 1997," the boy answered, still staring unblinking at James. James reeled back at this new piece of information. 1997? How is that even possible? The Time-Turner actually…worked, it…

"You…you said that I was…that I was…" James began, and started to feel a cold dread seep into his spine, crawling with icy fingers down his back and around his heart. "Dead?"

"This is ridiculous, I'm leaving. I don't even care who you are, but enough, okay? You've fooled me, I hope you're happy. You've wasted enough of my time with your immature little joke." The boy began to turn angry again, his eyes narrowing and his mouth frowning into a sneer. He gave James one final glare before storming out of the room.

Why are we in a bathroom? James wondered before following the other black-haired teen out of the room. He passed the remainder of the blood intermixing with the water on the floor and wondered what the blonde and the dark-haired boys had been arguing over.

James exited the bathroom only to see that the other boy was nowhere to be seen. How did he get away so quickly?

JLLJ

When James finally made it to the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office he felt more confused than he did relieved. After he gave the password nothing happened. He tried again. And then once more. Becoming frustrated, James ran a hand through his messy hair and threw a kick at the statue. Of course a password from the past would no longer work. I am so disoriented.

James went to kick the statue again and was surprised to see it began to move aside. He scrambled upwards the staircase, taking two steps at a time until he was finally at the top. James didn't even bother knocking, he simply threw open the door and hurried into the Headmaster's office.

"Professor, if the locket is what you suspect it is, than we need to go and destroy it as soon as we can," James heard a voice say as he entered the room. It was the same black-haired boy whom had been in the bathroom with him not so long ago. Dumbledore stopped himself from continuing the conversation, and James could tell he interrupted something important. When he looked up at James, the usual twinkle in his eyes was replaced by complete surprise. He looks older. James frowned to himself. Why is he looking at me as though I've raised the dead—oh right.

"…James?" Dumbledore inquired, his voice laced with wonder. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Oh, not this again," the other boy groaned, glancing at James. "You're really starting to pis—"

"Harry, language," Dumbledore said but he wasn't even looking at the other boy. He was still staring at James as though he were seeing a ghos—This is ridiculous¸ I need to find out what's really going on here, maybe that Harry person was lying…maybe. "You failed to mention this when you first came in, Mr. Potter."

"What are you talking about; I haven't mentioned anything since I've gotten here," James said and began to suspect that Dumbledore was really speaking to Harry. Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose.

"This is really the worst time for this to be happening," Dumbledore said and then he sighed. "Mr. Pott—James," he corrected, "Can you please tell me what year it is?"

"It's September 28th, 1976," James began, "Or at least it was, until I came here. Although he," James pointed at Harry, "said something about it being 1997."

"Came here?" Dumbledore inquired. "How did you…arrive?"

"An accident with a Time-Turner, but I suppose that you remember all about that, seeing at it was what…about twenty years ago now…" James finished, but it felt weird to say so many years had passed when it still felt like 1976 to him. Hogwarts never appears to change, regardless of the year. "I suppose you wouldn't mind accepting an apology that's twenty years late would you?" Dumbledore folded his hands across the top of his desk and peered at James through his half-moon spectacles.

"That's the problem, James," Dumbledore's eyes were hard. "I don't remember any such thing happening in the past. If it indeed happened then surely I would remember it, wouldn't I? Who are you?" he asked more forcefully. James could feel Dumbledore's magical aura flare in response and James felt a small seed of fear being planted inside of him, wondering what Dumbledore would do next. Then James remembered, The Time-Turner! That's it!

"Sir, wait, I know how I can prove it to you," James said hurriedly, and pulled out the small Time-Turner from his pocket. "I took this off of your desk; it was in a silver box with the word 'Tempus' written across the top. If I remember from History of Magic in the tale of Marcel the Mad, the Ministry was able to catch him eventually because the Time-Turner he had was registered. I don't know if this one is or not," James said, indicating to the hourglass in his right hand, "but I am aware that Time-Turners are unique and can only exist in one place at a time, within one distinct timeline, once they are activated for the first time. After that, I am completely unaware of time travel." James waited for Dumbledore to respond but the elderly wizard instead quickly stood and made his way across the room towards a tall brown cabinet that sat next to a pensieve.

"Sir?" Harry spoke now, when he had remained silent for the entirety of the conversation. He looked pale, but James was beginning to feel strange staring at his face. It was discomforting, like staring into a living mirror. Dumbledore ignored Harry as he reached into the cabinet, rustled his arms around for a moment and came back holding a small silver box. He unclasped the latch on the lid and opened the little box, his eyebrows rising nearly to his hairline. James felt a little bit of dread prickle along his skin.

"It appears, James," Dumbledore said and turned the little box around to show both teens," that you must indeed have the Time-Turner that I myself have possessed for quite some time."

"Is it registered?" James asked and he felt a little weak. He really didn't want to end up like Marcel the Mad, after all.

"No, James, it is not." Dumbledore motioned for Harry to take a seat across from his desk. He pulled out his wand and conjured another, similar chintz chair for James. James tried to hide his disgust but wondered if Dumbledore would ever acquire better tastes in furniture. "I believe we have some things to speak about, boys. James, if you wouldn't mind if I used a tough of Legilimency to confirm some of my suspicions?"

James swallowed the dry lump in his throat. Legilimency, wonderful.

JLLJ

It felt longer than it actually took for Dumbledore to sift through his memories, but James still felt the presence of a headache when he was finished. Dumbledore looked startled still but much more at ease. It's not as though I am a Death Eater, sheesh.

"Well then, it would appear we have a problem on our hands," Dumbledore said, and folded his hands across his desktop once again. Harry kept staring at him like he wasn't sure if he should hug him or cry, and James began to wonder exactly what had happened to his future self that would makethis boy so upset. "How much did you tell him, Harry?"

"I, err…well," Harry began, and James couldn't help but look at the other boy as he stuttered. "I told him that he looked like…"

"Like his dead father," James supplied helpfully. "I don't suppose this is true however…" James bit his lip and stared at Dumbledore. God, it can't be true, it just can't.

"I feared the most." Dumbledore looked even older in the next following moment as he gave Harry a sad look before facing James once more.

"Is it true?" James found himself asking, voice just above a whisper. He looked at Harry but Harry turned his head sharply in the other direction. Is he…crying?

"I don't think I should answer that, James, in all honesty, this is a terrible situation. By you just being here it jeopardizes everything in this present time. If you were to learn what happened—"

"So what did happen, Headmaster?" James stood and began pacing frantically. He wasn't really dead here, no, these people surely must be lying to him. Maybe this was a whole prank Dumbledore was playing with him to get him back for messing around with his things. It's all just a joke, one big joke. But James knew this wasn't a joke, and when he took another look at Harry and saw the trail of a single tear on the other teen's left cheek he knew that something happened had here, something dreadful.

"You know I can't tell you that, you know what I would risk." Dumbledore looked at him sadly. "This wasn't even supposed to happen, it—"

"You mean because you can't remember it happening?" James asked, and turned to place his hand on the back of the chair he had previously been seated in. Oh, how he wished he knew more about time travel theory.

"That is exactly what I mean."

"Professor," Harry spoke again, "Is this…really happening…is my da—is his really here?" Harry looked close to tears again and James felt a strange desire to reassure him, to smile, to say something to make him more at ease. He shook the feeling off, but not before placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry jumped, startled by the action, and then remained stiff under the touch as if he were afraid that it would disappear if he relaxed. James sent a questioning look at the back of his head but didn't say anything.

"Yes, Harry, it would appear so." Dumbledore gave Harry a small smile before sighing. "Whatever event brought you here, James, was most likely not one that was originally…planned."

"I'm not quite certain that I follow you, sir." James felt a prickle at the back of his neck. "If it wasn't supposed to happen then…"

"Then something in the past time line, your time, is changing," Dumbledore looked perplexed. "I haven't ever heard of such a thing. Time is usually quite linear; it is destined to follow a straight course. If such a thing occurred in the past, than the future would instantly change as a result."

"But it hasn't," Harry said, leaning forward in his chair.

"No, it has," James mumbled, "because your Time-Turner is gone from this time. I must have activated it for the first time in the past…" Dumbledore offered him a small nod and a grim frown.

"But you have no memories of it ever disappearing," Harry added, looking skeptically at James. "Shouldn't you remember it disappearing?"

"Actually, the moment I left, Dumbledore had returned. I remember staring at his shocked expression." James dared to laugh at this. "You really don't remember that, Headmaster? The look on your face was priceless." Dumbledore managed a weary smile.

"No, James, I do not remember such a thing occurring."

"So what does this mean; am I stuck here?" James asked, and then he hesitated before adding, "surely there is a way to send me back?"

"We will definitely have to send you back once I have the time to configure the Time-Turner properly; as I am sure it is completely imprecise. But now is not yet that time. I have more pressing matters to attend to first."

Dumbledore gave Harry a significant look, and James felt slightly jealous that he wasn't allowed to know what was happening. It doesn't mean I can't find out, however. James knew he should just sit tight, wait patiently, and return home without even considering what had happened during the last twenty years. He was almost certain the insatiable curiosity that brought him here would be the same that would demand answers to current events.

"For the meantime," Dumbledore began, "We'll have to figure out what to do with you."

"I don't suppose I can go masquerading around as Harry's dead father then," James said weakly and refused to look in Harry's direction. I have a son, an actual son. Sirius would be dying of laughter if he saw the mess I've gotten myself into.

A knock at the door singled Snape—well, a much older and greasier looking Snape, but Snape nonetheless. He didn't appear to age very well, James smiled to himself. Snape took one look at him and blanched.

"Headmaster, surely this isn't—"

"—The time, Severus, no, it is not. And as for you, Harry, you are dismissed. James, please wait outside by the staircase while I speak with Professor Snape. I will call you in afterwards and we will determine what to do then," Dumbledore said and smiled. "Do help yourself to a lemon drop on your way out, boys." Harry stared at James, and then looked warily at the candy dish before leaving. James shrugged and took a handful of the tiny yellow candies and tossed him in his mouth before nearly chocking on them.

Did the Dumbledore just say Professor Snape? Time changes things indeed.

"Oh, and James?" Dumbledore called out after him just as he was about to close the doors. "Don't go anywhere, talk to anyone, or play with things that don't belong to you." He gave him a very pointed look and James managed a sheepish smile around the candy in his mouth.

JLLJ

James sat outside of Dumbledore's office, staring at Harry as Harry stared back at him.

"I don't suppose you'll tell me anything, will you, son?" James asked hopefully. Harry reeled back in surprise.

"How did you guess?" He asked, looking anywhere but at James.

"Really?" James laughed so loudly that Harry actually looked up at him. "It's completely obvious, not to mention the terribly obvious "dead father" comments you and Dumbledore kept throwing around." James paused and looked at Harry's eyes again. Then he felt awkward, but he just had to know. "Who is…your mother?"

"I…" Harry looked uncomfortable again. "I really shouldn't say." But James figured this out too. There was no mistaking those eyes; he had certainly spent enough time gazing at them longingly to know.

"Is it..Lily? Lily Evans" He didn't really want to know, he didn't want to imagine that his Lily, his perfect sweet Lily would also come to meet the same fate as he in the future. But he was also so eager to learn that she would eventually come to return his feelings for her, enough even so that they would fall in love, settled down, be married. Enough that she would start a family with him, and even stay with him until his death. He could feel the tears already at the back of his own eyes, itching to fall free. He didn't want to die, he really didn't want to die so young. And Lily, gods he would never be able to forgive himself if he was the cause of her death.

At Harry's small nod, he gave a dry sob, and threw a hand up to cover his face. "How could that happen?"

The doors to Dumbledore's office flew open and out of them stalked Snape. He glowered at the two of them and then promptly stormed down the steps towards the hallway. Dumbledore must have seen Harry standing there because Harry jumped and hurried towards the stairs with a muffled "bye…dad…" before he disappeared.

James stood in shock, Dad? It was one thing to know about it, but a whole other story to actually be addressed as such. James ran a hand along his hair and looked over to Dumbledore.

So this was his future then, he had a teenage son who was scared to even talk to him and knowledge that he and Lily were both parents. But we're dead, we're both dead. How did we die, what went wrong?

James turned and began to walk back into the Headmaster's office, a determined set in his jaw and a fierce feeling in his heart.

He would discover the secrets of this future, and he would set things right.

I will not allow this to happen. Even if I die in the process, again, he reminded himself, I will do everything in my power to change this future.

JLLJ

...TBC...

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