The Time Turner

Chapter 3

The day slowing dragged on until one o'clock when the Order meeting was set. Dumbledore had sent his patronus out to several people, all of which Hermione had to approve of first. Mrs. Weasley had to resist herself from asking Hermione questions about the future upon Dumbledore's orders. The Burrow itself wasn't as busy as it usually was since Ron, Fred, and George tucked away in their beds, Percy was reading in his room, Charlie and Bill were both at a fellow wizards' house, and Ginny, well Ginny wasn't exactly born yet.

Hermione had noticed small changes from this Burrow and the one in her time. The people, thankfully, weren't all that different. Mr. Weasley had heard as Hermione talked to Dumbledore that she was muggle-born and insisted that she come to the shed and tell him how to work a ballpoint pen. But as Hermione's internal clock told her it was one o'clock, voices were heard outside of the Burrow's front door.

"I can't believe we couldn't find anyone to watch him!" said a male voice from behind the door. Hermione stood up quickly, not knowing who the voice belonged to and wondering if it was someone from the Order or not.

"Well James, when there's an emergency Order meeting, not everyone is able to watch Harry at that moment," another voice said in a matter-of-fact tone. Hermione smiled as she guessed it was Lily and James. Maybe Harry could actually get to spend his time with his parents for once.

"I don't get why it had to be here," whined a third voice. Although it sounder younger and happier, Hermione knew it was Sirius.

"You used to love the Burrow, Padfoot. The only reason you hate going now is because Fred and George used accidental magic for a prank on you. And frankly, you deserved it," said a fourth voice. Remus. Hermione took a deep breath. She needed to keep a clear mind if they were ever going to read these books. She knew that she was going to be questioned multiple times and she wanted to have control over at least that.

Mrs. Weasley opened the door on the second knock. It was much easier to get things done around the Burrow with the children sleeping. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Lily and James Potter stood on the other side of the door. James was holding Harry, wrapped in a tightly in a blanket where, from her spot on the couch, Hermione could see black hair growing in. And no scar.

"Come, come. Go on into the sitting room. Everyone else will be here shortly. If you want to, you can put Harry to sleep in Ronald's room," Mrs. Weasley said to the group while ushering them all in. James nodded his head and bound up the stairs. As the others walked into the sitting room, they gave Hermione strange looks but she pretended not to see them while examining the inside of her purse.

A cough interrupted her pretend rummaging. Hermione looked up to see Remus give a small smile and a wave. "Hello there. I'm Remus Lupin." Hermione nodded.

"Hermione Granger. And I know who you are," she said before turning in her armchair to go back to pretending to rummage through her purse.

"But- what- how?" he sputtered. Hermione ignored him at all costs because if there was one thing she hated, it was repeating herself twice. James had joined the others and once he saw the look on Remus's face, decided it was best not to speak.

Mrs. Weasley ushered in Alice Longbottom to the sitting room. Hermione guessed Frank had brought Neville too since she heard the hurrying up the stairs once more.

"Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione said standing up as she followed Mrs. Weasley back towards the front door.

"Yes dear?"

"Well, I just thought I should let you know," Hermione began, fumbling with her fingers, "that the only other Order of the Phoenix members we need in the sitting room are you, Mr. Weasley, and um, Severus Snape," she said, mumbling the last few words. Mrs. Weasley gave no indication that she cared whether Severus was there or not but was more surprised by the fact that barely no one of the Order of the Phoenix was there.

"But… Not even half of the Order of the Phoenix is here! We can't possibly have-"

"I promise I'll explain everything once everyone is here." Mrs. Weasley huffed and walked over to the kitchen to grab her husband and Sirius from the extra sandwiches she made and dragged them back to the sitting room. Hermione looked out the window, waiting for Snape and Dumbledore to reappear. In the distance, she could barely make out two figures slowly approaching.

Hermione opened the front door to the Burrow once they became closer. "Miss Granger, I do hope that everyone you need is here now," said Dumbledore as he walked through the front door, Snape followed closely behind him. Hermione just nodded. Severus gave no sign of even noticing that Hermione was standing at the door. She followed behind them into the sitting room.

"I was really hoping someone would forget to tell Snivellus about the meeting this time," Sirius said as the three of them entered the room. Snape opened his mouth to respond when Hermione cut in.

"Everyone sit down now!" she said in a clearly annoyed voice. Everyone followed her directions, obviously realizing that she could have a worse temper than Lily, maybe even Mrs. Weasley. "Good. My name is Hermione Granger for those of you who weren't here when I introduced myself. Now, let me inform you that no one else will be becoming."

"What?" Lily said, standing up. "There's barely even half-"

"I know that," Hermione said, cutting her off. Lily didn't seem to like that as James urged her to sit down. "Now, this isn't exactly an Order of the Phoenix meeting either. I'd like to call this an… emergency get together."

"And what exactly are we going to do then?" asked Snape in his long, gloomy voice as he leaned back on the chair he occupied. Hermione shoved her arm into her purse, shocking a few that she knew a charm that many of them couldn't do, and grabbed the books one by one.

"We are going to read these books," she said once she placed them all onto the table. The occupants of the room looked like they just wanted to laugh.

"Read books? Are you joking? If we're supposed to read books then I'm leaving," Sirius said as he got up to leave.

"It's about your godson, Sirius," Hermione said. He turned around and looked at her shocked.

"How did you know that? How do you even know my name?" he asked her, stuttering multiple times as he tried to form sentences. The others in the room seemed to want to know that too. They looked at how differently she dressed and Hermione had forgotten that her face still had black soot on most of it.

"Look, when I tell you, you're not going to believe me," she responded.

"Try us," James said. Hermione looked around the room and noticed how differently everyone was looking at her. Snape looked like he could care less, Lily, Remus, and Alice were studying her as if they could figure it out on their own, Frank and Sirius had absolutely no clue, and James just looked like he was trying to come up with an idea that was plausible.

"I'm not from here." Hermione tried to see all their reactions. None of them seemed shocked. "I don't mean here as in place, I mean here as in time. I'm not from this time. I'm from the year 1998."

"How? The only thing I can think of is a time turner but they only go back hours, not years!" Lily said standing up.

"Actually, Mrs. Potter, I do believe there is a small green knob on the bottom of a time turner which allows the user to go back in time in years," Dumbledore said, sending a secret smile in Hermione's direction.

"The ministry was successful with creating more time turners?" Mr. Weasley asked. Hermione nodded her head.

"A time-what?" Sirius asked.

Snape snorted and said, "I didn't expect you would know."

"That's it!" Sirius said, jumping up out of his seat. He pulled out his wand as quickly as Snape did and looked ready to duel at any moment. Hermione stepped between the two, in the way of aim. "Move!" Sirius shouted at her.

"No!" Hermione said, matching the volume in his voice. "No one is going to use any dueling or fighting magic. Got it?" She looked around the room and saw some people reluctantly nodding. "If any of you do, I will take your wand. Understood?" They all nodded their heads but Sirius and Snape were still holding their wands high and glaring at each other. "Don't harm Snape in any way."

"Why not?" Sirius complained. "He's nothing but a-"

"A brave, loyal person who I'd trust my life with," she said, cutting him off. People gave her a look of shock as she said this. "Both of you; sit!" she commanded. Sirius and Snape gave each other a dirty look before reluctantly sitting down. "As I was saying, these books are about the future. They concern each and every one of us in this room. It's all through Harry's eyes though."

"Harry?" James asked. "Our Harry? Harry Potter?" Hermione nodded her head.

"Yes. And," she continued, looking around the room. "A lot of things happen between now and my time. Everyone is this room is going to be affected deeply by Voldemort." She noticed as some people winced as she said the name. Had she really been that afraid of a name just like them?

"By reading these books… you think we can change the future?" Alice asked hesitantly. Hermione just nodded her head.

"Does anyone have any questions before we begin to read?" Hermione asked. Everyone, except Dumbledore raised their hand. "Questions that are not about the future," she said, rewording her sentence. Every hand went down at that remark. "Okay then. Ready?" The occupants in the room looked at each other then nodded their heads, some still looking like they had the urge to laugh at the idea. "I'll read first."

Hermione grabbed the top book and sat down. "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone," she read aloud. "Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived."

"Oh, I'd hate to have that nickname. But, what did the boy live from?" asked Sirius.

Lily glared at him. "Hey Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"No one except Hermione knows and I doubt she'll tell us. Plus we're not even one sentence into the book! Let us read some before you question," Lily said in an irritated voice. James snickered behind his hand and tried to hide it with a cough.

"Ahem," Hermione said, trying to gain everyone's attention. Once they looked at her, she continued reading. "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense."

"Normal? But, the strange and mysterious things are the best!" James said. Lily rolled her eyes at her husband's actions before it clicked. Dursley. That was the name of the man Petunia was married too. But why would a chapter start off with them?

"Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills."

"What are drills?" Mr. Weasley asked as the excitement of a muggle object being talked about was bubbling within him.

"Their a muggle tool used to make holes and such," Hermione said simply before continuing to read."He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache.

Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors."

"I see she hasn't changed," Snape mumbled under his breath. Remus, who was sat next to him, gave him an odd look before turning towards Hermione again.

"The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters."

"Hey! The Potters are awesome!" Sirius said as he stood up and pointed a finger at the book.

"Sirius, you're talking to a book," Remus replied, laughing quietly.

"Sirius may be crazy and talking to a book but I agree. Us Potters are awesome!" James said, smiling proudly. Snape just mumbled incoherent words under his breath.

Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister,

Lily frowned. Did Petunia stop talking to her because she was jealous that Lily was a witch and not her? Or did she honestly Lily and her friends were freaks? She turned to her left to see James looking a little shocked.

"I thought you said that you and Petunia started talking a little bit again." Lily just shook her head at her husband, feeling bad for lying. She knew that she shouldn't have but it was only because he was worrying over her so much.

because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.

Frank spoke up next, addressing Lily. "No offence to your sister or her family but you and James already seem way better than them." He said stood up, holding the sandwich he snuck from the kitchen high in his hand and said loud, "Go unDursleyish!" Sirius was the only other one in the room to repeat the action since everyone, besides Alice who looked horrified and Snape who couldn't be bothered by them, were starting to laugh.

The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.

Hermione tried her best to keep her voice steady. Harry didn't fill Ron and Hermione in much on what his childhood and summers consisted of. The only thing she heard was when Ron told her what his room was like when the Weasley brothers rescued him the summer of second year.

When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.

None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.

"No owl just appears out of nowhere in a muggle house except for a muggle-born at the age of 11," Remus supplied leaving everyone thinking.

At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.

"He seems wonderful."

"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar — a cat reading a map.

"McGonagall!" Sirius shouted, excited that he knew something that was actually going on in the book.

For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen — then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive — no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs.

Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with cloaks!" James said.

"Muggles don't wear cloaks," Frank answered before anyone else. He put his hands up in surrender as he got strange looks. "What? I paid attention in Muggle Studies!"

Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdoes standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together.

Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him!

But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt —these people were obviously collecting for something… yes, that would be it.

The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.

Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead.

"Do muggles always try to convince themselves of that?" Remus asked. Lily and Hermione both nodded their heads.

Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more.

He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.

Sirius chuckled. "Upon your description before, I don't think you need a bun from the bakery."

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy.

This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard —"

" — yes, their son, Harry —"

"Is he okay?" Lily asked. Hermione looked up and say worry in her eyes.

"Don't worry, he's—he'll be fine."

Mr. Dursley stopped dead.

"YES!" Sirius cheered.

"You idiot. It's a muggle expression," Severus said, immediately causing Sirius to glare at him yet pout since it wasn't true.

Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking… no, he was being stupid.

Potter wasn't such an unusual name.

"In the wizard world it is," Frank supplied. Everyone nodded their heads in agreement.

He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry.

He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold.

"Poor children named Harold. Yikes."

There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her — if he'd had a sister like that… but all the same, those people in cloaks…

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.

"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"

And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.

"He's—he's gone?" Remus asked smiling. "He's gone! I mean, I bet we're all happy but still, this person needs to be more careful."

"Of what?" Sirius counted. "Of slipping about magic or actually using magic to be able to fit his arms around the Dursley's middle?"

Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw—and it didn't improve his mood — was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning.

"McGonagall!"

"Shut up Sirius."

It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.

The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.

"See? McGonagall!"

James sighed and laughed at his friend's behavior. "No one said they doubted you Sirius."

Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"

"Do you think he's a wizard?" Remus asked the group. Dumbledore smiled at him.

"There might be a slight chance."

"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early — it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."

Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters…

Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er — Petunia, dear — you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls… shooting stars… and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…"

"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.

"Lovely woman, your sister."

"Please, don't remind me," Lily said to Frank as she leaned forward in thought. She did love her sister but how could she be acting like this, like she didn't even exist. Lily didn't want anyone to know how much it hurt her to hear this right now, she just couldn't.

"Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know… her crowd."

"You mean wizards?" Lily snapped.

Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son — he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.

"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"

"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."

"Harry isn't a common name!" Lily snapped once more. She didn't think her sister would act like this. Well, it couldn't get much worse.

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did… if it got out that they were related to a pair of — well, he didn't think he could bear it.

The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind… He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on — he yawned and turned over — it couldn't affect them

How very wrong he was.

James's face fell. "I really hope we don't have to live with them or something." Sirius put a comforting hand on his back.

"If you do, well, I'll miss you Prongs."

Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

"How can McGonagall sit that long without moving?" Sirius pondered.

"Seriously, be quiet about McGonagall! We already know it's her," Hermione snapped this time.

"No need to snap at me," Sirius mumbled.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

"Hey Dumbledore! It's you!" James said in excitement. Hermione looked up at James and felt bad for him. He and Lily still didn't know that fate that awaited them tonight. "Are we having a party at the Dursley house?" Hermione began reading again. She didn't want him to get his hopes up too much.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop.

"Can I have one?" Sirius and Frank asked at the same time.

"I'll duel you for it," Frank said, pulling out his wand.

"I'll win though," replied Sirius with a smirk, pulling his wand out too.

"I'm afraid, Misters Black and Longbottom, that I hope to use this in a very important matter. And once that matter has come and gone, I shall then choose the owner of the device," Dumbledore said.

He clicked it again — the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

"I KNEW IT! - OW! That was unfair Moony. It's not nice to hit," Sirius pouted.

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. "How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no — even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news."

"See?" Remus pointed out. "Everyone thinks they're safe because Voldemort's not around but they're not!" Hermione gulped and stole a glance at a certain couple next to her. Even though Voldemort was gone by then, they weren't safe still.

She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls… shooting stars… Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent — I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"This year," Lily mumbled. She was thinking things over in her head. Harry would be so young. At least he would be growing up in a better world. James might even be able to show Harry how to play Quidditch.

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of.

"Really, Professor Dumbledore?" James questioned. "You're lucky McGonagall never goes overboard with you."

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone —"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense — for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort."

A few people in the room shuddered at hearing the name. "I do agree," said Dumbledore, smiling.

Sirius was just confused. "Well, of course you do. I mean, that's what you think in the future."

Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"That's because you're too noble to even think about using them," Mrs. Weasley pointed out.

"Only because you're too — well —noble to use them."

"Hey! You sound like McGonagall!" Sirius pointed out. Severus looked a little disturbed.

"Are you obsessed, Black?" Sirius just ignored Snape completely.

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

This time, several people in the room shuddered at the image of that.

"I'm sorry Professor," Hermione began, "but I could have lived my entire life without knowing that."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow.

"What?" James, Sirius, Lilly, and Remus said in unison. They looked at each other, each worried about what happened.

He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — dead."

Hermione looked up to see utter shock on James and Lily's faces. Remus and Sirius paled as the others in the room were trying to take in this information.

"It just must be a rumor," Mrs. Weasley said, trying to convince herself more than anyone else that the couple that sat just nearby her were going to die.

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James… I can't believe it… I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…"

James was even more shocked at how much McGonagall cared about them. He turned to look at Lily to see a few tears escaping her eyes. She felt his eyes on her and turned her head. With little movement, she mouthed the word 'Harry' before starting to cry her eyes out. James pulled her close to him, letting a fear tears slip also.

Most people say that it is more heartbreaking for a parent to lose a child than a child to lose a parent and at that moment, Lily and James felt that they would die if anything happened to Harry. Harry was their love and joy. They were already so proud of him. Harry had an entire life ahead of him, he didn't deserve to die.

Yet, the Potters didn't want to die either. Who would take care of Harry? Is that why Dumbledore was at Petunia's house? Lily let a few more tears slip down her cheeks before looking at Hermione as if pleading for her to continue. She needed to know that Harry was okay.

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know… I know…" he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry.

Lily chocked on a sob behind the hand she held to her mouth. She was silently shaking her head, her worst nightmare coming true. James had pulled Lily closer to him, feeling just as worse as her.

But he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke — and that's why he's gone."

James smiled through his tears. "Lily, he survived. He's the reason that Voldemort's gone. He did it," he whispered to her. She smiled a little too, knowing that for now, Harry was okay.

Sirius thought that the room needed some cheering up so he said, "Man, being beat by a baby. That must put a blow on a guy's ego." He smiled as most of the people in the room laughed at least a little.

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's — it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done… all the people he's killed… he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding… of all the things to stop him… but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess." said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

"Which means Dumbledore knows but won't tell you," Hermione mumbled under her breath. To her surprise, she heard Dumbledore chuckle and smile at her. Holding in a groan, she continued reading.

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"Are you mental?" Remus yelled out as he stood tall.

"I do believe I have good reasons, Mr. Lupin," was all he said.

"You don't mean – you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore — you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son — I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"And you'll be able to explain everything in a letter Albus? Where did you come up with that?" Mrs. Weasley asked incredulously.

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter?

Taking a glance at one of his best friends, Sirius didn't even have the heart to point out that McGonagall and Molly thought alike… again.

These people will never understand him! He'll be famous — a legend — I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future — there will be books written about Harry

"Yeah, we're reading one right now," said Frank with a small smile as James smiled at him.

every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly." said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

"Yes, much better. Especially with James and his big head as a father," Sirius said in a low voice, a smile on his face. James smiled a bit and hit Sirius in the stomach.

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes — yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing him."

"Hagrid?"

"You think it —wise — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to — what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

"It sounds like my motorcycle! How cool would that be to finish it up to get it working!" Sirius exclaimed, hi-fiving Mr. Weasley in the process.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild — long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"YES!" Sirius cheered.

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

"Awww!" the girls cooed.

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"It must be cool to have a scar like that. Just not for the reasons he got it," James said, finishing quietly.

"Is that where —?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground.

Lily shuddered. "I'm Dumbledore but I didn't need to know that."

"Is it really that useful?" Sirius asked, oblivious to the weird stares he was getting. Dumbledore chuckled a bit and nodded at the young man.

Well — give him here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.

"Could I — could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Aw, poor Hagrid," Alice said, smiling as she remembered the half-giant from her Hogwarts years.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it —Lily an' James dead — an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles —"

"Hagrid cares," James mumbled. He never thought the half-giant would care this much.

"Hagrid takes a fond liking to the both of you," said Dumbledore.

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two.

"You left him on the doorstep?" Mrs. Weasley asked. She didn't think Dumbledore would leave a poor defenseless baby out in the open!

For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured.

He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley…

He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!"

"There you go Sirius, that's how Harry got his nickname. And that's also the end of the first chapter," Hermione said. Lily looked around the room then back at James. Were they really going to die? Excusing herself, she walked up the stairs to Ronald Weasley's room where three babies lay asleep. She walked over to the one she wanted to never let go and picked him up.

"I would do anything for you, Harry Potter," Lily whispered as she rocked the groggy child back and forth. James walked into the room and smiled when he saw his wife and son.

"Do you think this is why the Hermione girl came back from the future? To make sure we live?" he asked Lily. She stopped rocking the baby and looked up at him.

"I don't know. But now we can change it. We can live and be there for Harry," she said. Lily blinked back the tears. She knew Harry was going to be thinking about her and James often since they had died when he was only a baby and she needed to prepare herself for that.

"Lily, we can do this. We can change the future," James said with a hopeful smile on his face, one which Lily returned. Hermione and walked into the room.

"Are you okay?" she asked the couple. They looked at each other then nodded. "We're going to start the second chapter. Do you guys want to stay up here and have us fill you in later?" Lily shook her head and smiled.

"No, it's fine. Thank you though." With that, Lily set down that stairs, Harry in her arms, and reseated herself, James and Hermione following behind her.

"Can I read next?" James asked. Hermione nodded, handing the book to James who was on her right. Everyone, except Severus, leaned forward in anticipation for the next chapter.

"Chapter 2," James read aloud. "The Vanishing Glass."


Hi again. School has been drowning me in work and I rushed to do this. Also, it's about 12:10am as I'm re-reading and editing this so I apologize if it's really bad but I wanted to get this out. By the way, this is a lot harder than it looks! Haha sorry. :)

Oh, anyone watch Glee last night? Ah, I love Darren Criss. Can't wait for the rest of his episodes! His voice has gotten even better (which is like whoa.) since the first A Very Potter Musical. So proud. Haha

Okay, so now that my teenie moment is gone, I should put a disclaimer since I'm using things directly from the book. So… I own nothing. Good? Good.

And to rachaelhannah: I'm trying hard to work Regulus in. I've been waiting too since you left your review. I might bend a few things to include him ;P

Enjoy! :D

Bye! :)