A/N: With the coming of 2001 brings the end of Timothy's first series. I decided to end Discover the Dawn at this chapter for more reasons than one, but fear not! As you will discover by the end of this chapter I have made it possible for a decent sequel. Or, at least I hope it'll be decent, it depends on you and your fantastic reviewing skills! So, read this last climatic (did I spell it that right? Oh, I could care less right now, I'm in a rush to get done before I go out to Downtown Disney again... I'm seeing "Cast Away"... ahem) chapter and be a really nice reader and review! Brace yourselves, long author's note at the end, heheheh.
DISCLAIMER: I write, therefore I disclaim.


Chapter Twelve: Darkness Returns


The light continued to blind him, but Timothy continued to walk forward at a slow pace. Each sound of his footsteps seemed as if he were walking on metal. As he walked, the sound of his footsteps was not the only thing he began to hear. A low, mournful tune, playing the same three notes, grew louder as Timothy issued on toward the light. Just when he thought the light would never die and he would become blind, Timothy bumped into something hard and fell backwards.

"Ah!" He groaned in pain, rubbing his forehead.

Timothy crawled to his feet and realized that the light was no longer so bright that he couldn't see. Now, he faced a solid wall of glass.

"This must be the Glass of Tears." Timothy said to himself, reaching his hand up and running it over the glass. The slow and deep three-note tune seemed to be echoing from the glass itself. He looked at it more closely and cocked his head as he began to make out something protruding from the glass.

"Buttons?" Timothy ran his other hand through his hair, confused.

No, they were cylinders inserted into slots on the glass. There were three of them. Timothy stared at each in turn, then shook his head.

"What am I supposed to do?"

As if in reply, the tune became louder… slower, emphasizing each of the three notes over and over. Timothy thought hard.

"The wall said something about a song… to decipher a song."

It was a puzzle. He had to figure out what the song meant. Timothy stared at the three protruding cylinders again in turn. They had something to do with it, they were the pieces of the puzzle.

"How do I go about doing this?" He muttered to himself. After a random thought, and looking at the cylinder on the far left, Timothy reached up his hand again and pulled hard on the cylinder. After pulling with all his strength, it finally came out, and he nearly fell backwards again in doing so.

"Now what?" He said, turning the clear cylinder over in his hands. Frowning, Timothy was about to put it back when a strange feeling came over him. He didn't know why, but he was beginning to feel… helpless. As he stared at the cylinder harder, the feeling intensified. He felt like he couldn't do anything. Timothy had never felt helplessness as intense as he was at that moment. Taking a deep breath, he hastily put the cylinder back. The feeling quickly went away.

Reluctantly, Timothy took the second cylinder, the one in the middle of the wall of glass, out and held it. Another feeling came over him, but this time it was a feeling that he knew real well. The feeling of insignificance. That you couldn't match up to anything. As he looked at the cylinder in his hand, Timothy began to remember all the times he had cried while feeling so small. The feeling of nothing.

He nearly dropped it, then caught it before it did then quickly placed it back in it's slot. Timothy was now very afraid when he began to slide the last cylinder out of the last slot on the right.

This time, Timothy felt tears threatening to pour out of his eyes again as he held the last cylinder. A deep, soul wrenching feeling of loneliness and worthlessness washed over him. He felt his knees buckle and unknowingly dropped the cylinder.

"What does it all mean?" He hissed through his teeth and ran his robe sleeve over his eyes to dry them.

The three-note song continued, and as the horrible feeling left him, Timothy could think again.

Three notes. Three cylinders. A cylinder could represent a single note, but how do I put the two together? He rattled his brain.

"Helplessness. Insignificance. Loneliness. All three are unpleasant feelings, that's for sure." Shaking his head, Timothy bent down and picked up the last cylinder, cringing as he felt loneliness overcome him. As he straightened up, his head knocked into the middle cylinder on the glass wall and it fell out of it's slot. Timothy dropped the one he was holding in surprise, and cursed himself as the feeling let go of him and he looked at the two identical cylinders on the ground.

"That's just great."

He picked them up, one in each hand and paused. Strangely, he didn't feel any of the emotions that came out of the cylinders. They must cancel the other out if you held two at the same time. Without thinking, Timothy placed one in the middle slot. As he did so, the second note of the continuous tune became louder. He put the other in the last slot, and the last note of the tune became just as loud.

Instantly, the three notes became so loud that Timothy covered his ears. The ground trembled and the glass before him, the Glass of Tears, started to crack. Yelling in surprise, but not hearing himself, Timothy threw his body to the ground just as an ear shattering explosion of glass erupted and the Glass of Tears shattered into thousands of pieces. Immediately, the same wind that brought Timothy into the Offender's Oubliette, began to whip him violently again… and he was pulled into the place where the Glass of Tears was.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

He felt himself thrown backwards, then slammed into something solid. Timothy slid into a heap, in which everything went black.


"Wake. Wake up, Timothy."

Timothy groaned, his entire body let out a spasm of pain from the blow to his back.

"Wake up." Three voices demanded as one.

He opened his eyes. Everything was hazy, but he could just make out three figures standing in front of him. Timothy's glasses were luckily not broken, draped over his arm and he pulled them on. His eyes focused and Timothy nearly screamed again.

"Dad!"

The second figure was surely his father, Harry Potter. Only, something was different. He seemed to floating slightly over the ground, and his body could almost be transparent. It was as if he were…

"Dad… you aren't a ghost… are you?" Timothy scrambled to his feet, wincing in pain. He looked at his father, and his father shook his head. He looked to Timothy's left and there was another man looking just like him.

"Who…?" Timothy gasped.

"Your grandfather, Timothy." The man said with a slight and sad smile.

"Are we…? Am I…?" Timothy felt faint, staring at the image of his grandfather.

"No, Timothy." Came another voice.

Timothy looked to the right of his father. Another man, looking just like his father and grandfather with the same unruly black hair and glasses looked intently back at him. He looked younger than his father and grandfather. All Timothy could do was gape at him.

"That's right," The ghostly image chuckled silently. "I'm you. Timothy Potter. Only about twelve years older."

"How… what… what is this?" Timothy began to shiver.

"It's alright, son. Don't worry, you'll get out of here. We can't explain where you are or how we get here together, but what we are here for is to warn you." Timothy's father said, reassuringly.

"Warn me?" Timothy's throat was dry.

"There isn't enough time, only enough to tell you that you must find our family crest." Timothy's older self said quickly.

"Family crest? What family crest?"

"The Potter family crest. Our family name goes back to the time of the founding of the original Hogwarts castle. William Potter, our ancestor, was the most cherished student of Godric Gryffindor. Before he died, Gryffindor empowered a shield of magic bearing the crest of our family. It was predicted that a servant of the heir of Slytherin would become so powerful that only something made of pure good could destroy him. Once destroyed, all darkness shall be abolished, never to resurface. Your father has achieved his destiny by destroying the heir of Slytherin. Now you must achieve yours and destroy the servant." His grandfather said.

"I have to destroy Malfoy?" Timothy asked rhetorically.

"Don't tell anyone about the crest, you must find it on your own. I'm afraid even myself and your mother cannot help you." The image of his father began to fade.

"Wait! Where is it? How… how am I going to do this?!" Timothy cried.

"Follow your heart, it will guide you." His grandfather, too, faded.

"No!"

"Luna's not a bad girl, wild one… trust me." His older self vanished.

Timothy rushed to the spot where the ghostly image of his older self was, but the wind returned, blowing him backwards against the wall again… and darkness descended once more.


"Mrs. Potter, please… give me some space."

"Is he bad? Will he be alright?"

"If you would kindly step aside, I can look at him."

"I came too late… I'm his mother and I couldn't do anything…"

"Don't be silly."

"Oh, I knew something was wrong! I knew it! Why didn't I sense it sooner?"

"Shh, you could startle him if he wakes."

Timothy kept hearing voices… one he recognized and one he didn't, really. They sounded so far away and he felt trapped under the darkness. He kept trying to call out but it seemed as if the darkness mocked him and only became heavier.

"He can hear me… Timothy, Timothy wake up… wake up honey, it's me… it's mom."

Mum? He cried out in his head, trying to push the darkness away.

"It's alright, sweetheart. I'm here now, everything's OK. You're safe."

"I need to get this potion down him, it will heal his back."

Timothy felt something cold and bitter slide down his throat and he instinctively swallowed. The darkness seemed to become lighter and he no longer felt weak against it. With all his might, Timothy fought towards his mother's voice.

"He's coming around! Timothy, come on honey, wake up… it's OK."

Finally, light pierced his eyes. Everything was fuzzy; his glasses were off. He fought hard to focus on the face hovering above his and then felt his glasses being placed on his face. Timothy blinked and saw his mother, beaming with her eyes red and wet from tears.

"Oh, Timothy… oh, sweetheart are you alright?"

"Don't make him speak just yet. He's beaten up real bad and it'll take a while for the potion to give the full effect."

Timothy looked over and saw another woman, the Hogwarts nurse and Darian's mother. She smiled kindly at him and then dimmed the lights.

"You can stay with him, but he needs to sleep. I'll let you know when Mr. Potter arrives." Mrs. Hall left.

His mother nodded and smiled at him, absentmindedly brushing his bangs out of his face. Her hand was shaking.

"W-what… happened?" Timothy managed to whisper hoarsely.

"Shh… don't worry about that now. Try to sleep."

"Where's Luna? Where's Taku Smith?! He's… he's with Malfoy!" Timothy's heart began to race and he struggled to get up, but his mother kept him from doing so and pushed him back, gently, against the pillow.

"Calm down! Hush, it's being taken care of. Your father's with Eian Dumbledore right now. Your Great Uncle Us and Uncle Lupin are out with the rest of the aurors looking for Malfoy. Mr. Weasley and Uncle Ron are on their way. So you're perfectly safe now, and I'm not going to leave you."

"But…"

His mother put her finger against his mouth and he quieted. It was then that he noticed a dull throbbing pain in his back and he grimaced.

"Get some sleep, I'll be right here." She kissed him on his forehead and combed her fingers through his hair. Timothy's mind began to drain of thought, and exhaustion took over… making him fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.


When Timothy woke up in early afternoon the next day, his father was sitting at his side. He beamed down at him, and Timothy noticed his mother asleep on his father's other side.

"Hey there, look who's awake." His father whispered, ruffling Timothy's hair. "How do you feel?"

"Better." Timothy rubbed his shoulder.

"Your mum stayed up with you all night."

His mother stirred and his father frowned guiltily.

"What… what's wrong? Is he ok?" She turned and smiled with relief at Timothy, getting up and going over to the other side of his bed. "Oh, sweetheart… how do you feel?"

"A lot better, mum."

"You aren't until I say you are, young Potter." The nurse, Mrs. Hall, appeared out of no where and politely pushed his mother aside. She checked him over as his parents watched intently.

"Can we now, mom?!" Cried a familiar voice from the door of the hospital wing.

Mrs. Hall let out an exasperated breath, looking over at his parents. They nodded and Mrs. Hall sighed.

"Alright, but just for a few minutes! And quietly!"

Darian and John came bounding over to Timothy's bed. Darian looked excited and John seemed stressed, but relief washed over his face as he saw Timothy.

"I thought you were dead! I didn't know what to do!" Darian got to the point immediately.

"We'll be outside, Timothy." His father bent down and whispered in his ear with a smile. Then he and his mother left the hospital wing, followed by an annoyed Mrs. Hall.

"There was some sort of spell over Luna, Timothy… I couldn't sense anything from her. If… if I had been trained… I would have seen it sooner. I'm sorry." John hung his head, his tall body sagging with guilt.

"It's not your fault, John. You couldn't do anything, no one could."

"Luna was bawling once you were sucked into that cylinder thing. I ran to get help, thank God Professor Dumbledore was walking back to his office when I got up there. He notified your parents… but they were out. He notified the Ministry, who eventually found them. No one would tell me anything more."

"I stayed with Luna… she wouldn't accept any help. So I just stood there, standing over her while she cried and stared at the black cylinder. She kept muttering over and over how it was all her fault… and then she mentioned something else. Something about a glass… that you would find the glass. She said it was your only way out." John explained.

"So what happened?" Darian pressed.

Timothy began to explain what had happened after he was sucked into the Offender's Oubliette. Darian and John stared at him intently with unwavering awe. He was about to tell them about the Glass of Tears when his parents walked back in.

"Sorry boys," His father said. "Timothy needs some more rest. You can talk to him tomorrow."

Resentfully, but in no condition to vex Timothy's parents, Darian and John muttered good-byes and left the hospital wing. Timothy spent the remainder of the day being fussed over, much to his dismay.

When Mrs. Hall finally allowed Timothy to leave the following morning, his parents led him up to Dumbledore's office.

"He wants to speak with you. It's important that you tell him everything… it will help us catch Malfoy." His father said, his hand on his shoulder as they approached the stone gargoyle.

But they won't be able to catch him, no matter what. Timothy thought to himself. And I can't tell them, they wouldn't listen… dad said so himself.

Eian Dumbledore's office was just as it had been when he was there at the beginning of the year. Round, with the portraits of past headmasters and books covering every surface. He greeted them all warmly with a pleasant smile, issuing Timothy to sit down.

"Perhaps, Harry… you and Renee should step outside and let me speak with Timothy alone. It would be less stressful, I believe." Dumbledore said politely.

His father smiled reassuringly and patted Timothy's back, then after his mother kissed him gently on the forehead, his father led her out of Dumbledore's office. The office fell silent and Timothy, with wide and innocent eyes, turned to the headmaster.

"How are you feeling, Timothy? Better?" Dumbledore inquired kindly.

Timothy nodded politely in response.

"I'm glad to hear that… what happened I'm sure was terrible. But I'm afraid that I'm going to have to hear your side of the story." The headmaster continued, his elbows resting on his huge oak desk and hands crossed.

"My side?" Timothy asked meekly.

"I have spoken with Luna Dine, the Hufflepuff first year that was involved. As well as your friends John and Darian. Taku Smith is in the custody of the Ministry, and I have overheard his interrogation as well."

"You found him? You found Taku?" Timothy slid to the edge of his seat, his voice tight.

Dumbledore nodded and the look in his eyes answered the next question that had just popped into Timothy's head.

"You didn't find Malfoy." Timothy muttered, mainly to himself, and he slumped back into the chair.

"He disappeared before any of the aurors could so much as raise a wand. But that's a topic for later discussion… and not for you to worry about. What you are here in my office to discuss right now is what happened down there in the passageway."

Timothy looked up at Dumbledore's expectant expression, and when he said nothing more, Timothy took a deep breath and began to explain the details again. The full blow of what had happened didn't occur to him until that moment, and Timothy began to shudder. When he came up to the part about how he escaped, he hesitated.

Eian Dumbledore studied his downcast eyes.

"You found the Glass of Tears?"

Timothy looked up at him in surprise.

"How did you…?"

"It was Luna Dine who put the glass there. The glass's original intention is uncertain; Luna was quite disturbed while being questioned. What we did managed to get from her was that she was being used by her cousin, Taku Smith…"

"How is that possible?" Timothy interrupted, shocked.

"Taku's father's sister is Luna's mother. Anyway, by threatening her family, Taku had her try to get close to you so that you would be lured somewhere undetected to use the Offender's Oubliette. Somehow, Luna managed to find out the purpose of the Glass of Tears and switched it with something else. Instead of killing you, it was supposed to do something else. But she was so distressed that she couldn't tell us more."

"It was a puzzle," Timothy explained. "I had to solve a puzzle to get through."

"What was the puzzle?" Dumbledore asked.

Timothy stared at him a moment, deliberating his words. Should he explain what the shadows of his grandfather, father, and future self told him he had to do? Would the headmaster believe him? From what his father told him about when he was in Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, Eian Dumbledore's father, believed everything unbelievable that his father told him. But like Timothy said to himself quietly before… no one would believe him… his father said so.

Before he could stop himself, Timothy began to explain about the three-tone song, the three corresponding cylinders, and what he did with them. He told him about the feelings he felt when he touched each different cylinder. But after he got to the part where the wind knocked him out… Timothy stopped.

"Is that all?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

Timothy stared at him for a long minute.

"Yes."
****

"You have failed me, cousin."

"I… I…"

"Stop stuttering, you fool! You have failed me!"

"Yes… yes…"

"Your sister… and all those associated… failed me also."

"It was Taku, Draco. He has failed you most of all!"

"You renounce your own nephew, do you Hewlett? Your beloved sister's son?"

"Oh… oh, please… please have mercy! She's your cousin too! Family… pure blood. He… he wouldn't have failed if it weren't for the girl."

Draco Malfoy's sinister eyes gleamed in the firelight of his unknown location. Hewlett Malfoy coward before him.

"Ah yes… the girl. She is also related; Taku's cousin from his father's side."

Hewlett nodded.

"Do you actually believe that I will ignore this failure? That I will simply shrug and toss aside the six years of labor and sweat that I have been toiling over to advance my power? This will not do, this is not acceptable. This is what happened to the dark lord before me. History will not repeat itself! So close! SO CLOSE! I had the Potter's weakness in my grasp… and my own flesh and blood had to go and ruin it. Destroy it. To think that stupidity would run in the name of Malfoy." Draco twirled his wand in his hand, the fire glowing off of him. Hewlett began to tremble, shaking his head as he stared into Draco's eyes. The malicious and evil look that radiated from them bore into Hewlett, and he began to cry.

"No… no!" He wailed. "Please… please no!"

"Your sister has soiled the name, cousin."

"No… have mercy… please, don't… don't… it's not Nora's fault!"

"The girl also failed me… disgraced me. I don't let those who fail me go unpunished."

"They're only children! Draco…"

"Potter was an infant when he drained my foolish master of his powers the first time!" Draco raged. "Don't think I will take any chances! So," He seethed as Hewlett began to sob at his feet. "All those connected with your sister will be prevented from failing me again. And you will see to it… I will make that certain!"

"NOOOO!"

"Let it be known that you will not fail me again, cousin. Malfoys do not fail… and if you still have the gall to consider yourself true to your name… you will do whatever you can to ensure that our name will be just as feared as the master of dark before me."

Two of Draco's Death Eaters came forward and dragged Hewlett, sobbing hysterically, out of the room. Draco turned to the fire and rubbed his temples.

"Darkness has returned, Potter. I shall find a way to extinguish you."
****

Timothy's parents stayed at Hogwarts for a week, while many aurors came and went. His Great Uncle Us came several times and always found a moment to be with Timothy. He was greatly disturbed to hear about what had happened to him, and Timothy began to think that his Great Uncle made excuses to come back to Hogwarts to check on him.

There was still a month and a half left of school, so when Timothy's parents found that they needed to leave the castle, it was another goodbye.

"It's extremely important, Timothy, that if anything else should happen that you contact us and then tell Professor Dumbledore." His mother reminded him, bending down and fixing Timothy's shirt collar over his school robes.

"Do you mind, Renee, if I could talk with him a moment?" His father asked her kindly.

They exchanged another wordless conversation and then she finally nodded, kissing Timothy and then walking into the Great Hall from the corridor they were in.

"Let's take a walk." His father took his hand and they slowly and silently walked the ground floor of the castle, eventually finding themselves outside. They walked a worn path in the grass and Timothy noticed that his father stopped them under a large oak tree. He remembered the tree from a few years ago, and the stone memorial that stood beneath it's branches confirmed that he remembered correctly.

"He was the one adult, besides your Great Uncle, that I could confide in. The father I never had. I never knew what it was like to tell my feelings and my secrets to someone like that until I got to Hogwarts and met him." His father whispered, letting go of Timothy's hand and settling down on the grass. Timothy looked at him a moment, and sat down next to him, leaning against his side until his father put his arm around him.

"From what I remember, he was really a nice guy. He gave me my glasses." Timothy said.

His father laughed silently.

"That's right, he did, when you were little."

They fell silent, and Timothy felt a breeze ruffle his hair. He leaned closer against his father and could sense that there was something that his father wanted him to tell him. Timothy had an idea on what it was, but didn't say anything.

"Once, I didn't tell Dumbledore everything. I was so used to keeping everything bottled up inside me. But then I found that I could tell him everything, that he would believe me, that he wouldn't get upset. And so from there on, I told him everything that had ever happened." His father said quietly.

Timothy looked up at him.

"What do you mean?"

"You help yourself and help others when you tell the whole truth. Timothy, your mother and I talked with Eian Dumbledore after he spoke with you earlier this week. He told us about what you said. I suspect that you left something out."

Timothy knew what was coming and remained silent, looking up into his father's green eyes.

"Do you feel you can tell me anything that's troubling you? Don't you know that no matter what happens I still trust you, as my son?" His father looked down at him seriously.

"Yes." Timothy said simply. But you yourself said that you wouldn't believe me. This is something that I obviously need to do by myself. He thought to himself.

His father looked away, sighing.

"Then why won't you tell me how you escaped the Glass of Tears, exactly?"

"Because you won't believe me. No one will."

"Try me." His father said, looking back at him. It was Timothy's turn to look away.

"When I got to the glass, I heard a song. It had three notes, each being low and sad sounding. The song came from the glass, and on the glass were three cylinders sticking out of three slots across the top. When I touched the first one, I suddenly felt helpless. The feeling went away when I put it back. Then when I touched the second one, I felt insignificant. That too, went away when I let go and went to touch the third cylinder. That one made me feel lonely. I realized that each one represented a note in the song, and when I put them into order in the slots… I got through."

His father stared at him as Timothy fell silent.

"That's it?"

No, afterwards I talked to you from the future, my future self, and my dead grandfather. Oh, and they told me that I was to find a family crest from over a thousand years ago to save the world by defeating Draco Malfoy. Timothy thought, not looking at his father.

"These three feelings…" His father muttered after several minutes. "Have you ever felt any of those before? Any time in your life?"

Timothy looked back at him, realizing that… yes, he did experience one of those feelings almost every day. Insignificance in the shadow of his parents. But should he tell him? Timothy half nodded, half shrugged.

"One of them." He whispered.

His father continued to stare at him.

"Insignificance, right?"

Timothy's eyes went wide and he looked away again, going red in the face.

"It's alright, Timothy." His father pulled him into a hug and Timothy allowed himself to be comforted, not wanting him to let go.

"The feeling I had, before I came to Hogwarts, every day… was loneliness. I didn't have a family… I didn't have friends. I couldn't talk to anyone, and I didn't even have a memory of my parents to comfort me. Completely alone. That feeling in the cylinder, I suspect, represented me. My tears. The one for insignificance represented yours. That leaves one more." His father said into his ear.

"You never felt helpless?" Timothy's voice was muffled.

"Not really, no. I doubt your mother did… no, I don't think she did. It must have represented my… my own father." His father's voice trailed off, and Timothy pulled away to look at him.

"How did the glass know? How did Malfoy know?"

His father looked down at him and considered him a moment.

"I don't know, Timothy… we may never find out."

Timothy's eyes met his father's, and his father's gaze bore into Timothy and past him. For a fleeting moment, Timothy felt that his father was going to tell him something… something important. However, there was uncertainty in his eyes and the moment was gone and his father broke the connection. He stared at Albus Dumbledore's memorial once more, then got to his feet.

"Your mother will be worried." He looked down at Timothy. "Know this, you can always tell us anything at any time. When you need help, we'll be there as best as we can. And if a time should ever come when you need to face something alone, remember all that you've been taught."

"Yes, dad." Timothy got up and followed his father back to the castle, hesitating a little before looking back at the huge oak tree that overshadowed the old headmaster's memorial.

I'm scared. And I can't even tell my own parents. But I can tell you, because you can believe me. Timothy turned and ran to catch up.


Things grew quiet at Hogwarts for the remainder of the school year. Timothy, John, and Darian spent a lot of time together in the common room. Timothy forced himself to forget about what had happened past the Glass of Tears for fear of John sensing anything. However, Jeff, knowing Timothy more closely for a longer time, was not fooled.

"Wild one, you're preoccupied." The little yellow dragon said, crawling up to perch on Timothy's head.

"I know I am, Professor Visser gave us a three roll report to finish and I haven't even started the second roll." Timothy sighed as he sat down alone in the dorm.

"No, don't fool around with me… I know you… there's something else."

Timothy frowned and began to grow tired of being drilled on what happened. Finally, to throw him off… and get some idea as to what he was to do, he asked Jeff:

"Jeff, how much do you know about my family's history?"

"No more than what your parents know, why?"

Timothy sighed.

"Nothing, just curious."

At dinner that evening, Darian brought something up that made Timothy forget completely about his quest from the future.

"Something does not make sense."

"What?" Timothy and John asked with mouths full.

"There's a big piece of the puzzle missing." Darian said while staring at his fork full of meat.

"Yeah, you're eating it." Timothy laughed.

"No, no, no. I mean with Luna Dine and Taku Smith." He turned to Timothy with a rare serious expression.

"Taku is in Azkaban and Luna… well, Luna we haven't seen at all." John said, swallowing.

"Don't you think we should find her and ask about what happened? You know, straight from the horse's mouth?"

"What more is there to know? She was ordered by Smith to do what she did. It wasn't her fault, end of story." Timothy shrugged, taking another bite.

John suddenly looked at Timothy with realization, Timothy took notice and stared at him.

"What?"

"Remember when we first got here to Hogwarts, after the feast when we were being led by Smith up to Gryffindor tower?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Don't you remember what he dropped?"

Timothy stared, and dropped his fork.

"A black cylinder. The jerk had the thing the whole time. Before Christmas, when I talked to Luna… she told me about an Offender… the Offender's Oubliette. He picked on Luna because he could… because he was her cousin… and by doing so we got interested. That was all part of the trap, to get us interested and alone."

"To get you interested and alone." John pointed out.

"There's still something missing." Darian sighed, and continued to eat without another word. John turned to his food and continued as well, but Timothy couldn't eat any more.

I need to talk to Luna. Maybe she knows something I don't.


Timothy made every effort to search Luna out. He talked with the girls he knew she was friends with, talked with other Hufflepuffs, and finally even talked with people from other houses that she shared classes with. No one had any idea where she hid when not in classes… and she still did not come to Herbology.

"What more is there to find out?" Darian asked. "Nothing's missing, I already figured that. You told us all there is to know about what happened."

But he didn't, he never did explain to anyone other than his father about how he got through the Glass of Tears. What he wanted to know is what Luna did with the glass that brought him to the shadows of his future self and father, and of his long-gone grandfather. It was obvious she didn't want to tell.

It came down to the last week of school, and everyone was gearing up for the last Quidditch match that would determine who would win the house cup. Gryffindor was out of the game, falling short a player at the last minute and not being able to find a replacement in time.

"Now's your chance, Timothy." John said casually to him as they watched people leave the common room to watch the match. "Next year they have another space available… and Smith won't be on the team to vote against you."

Timothy nodded, but his thoughts were not on Quidditch… but on Luna. If anyone could give him any insight as to where to start looking for his family crest, it would be her… she put the glass there, after all. He looked over at John, fearful that he would sense all this… but if he did, John said nothing.

"No, I'm not reading your mind… but I know that if I were that you want to go looking for Luna while the whole school's at the Quidditch pitch, am I right?" John said suddenly.

"Darian left to get seats… but I won't be there. Do you mind going and telling him for me?"

John smiled a friendly smile and stood up, grabbing Timothy's hand and pulling him up.

"Sure thing."

They walked to the portrait hole, and Timothy glanced back at John. By doing so, he noticed that they were the last ones in the common room. John looked back too, then quickly placed his hand on Timothy's shoulder before he could move out.

"What?" Timothy stopped and turned around.

"You and Darian are my best friends, you know that… right?"

"Of course, Too Tall." Timothy smiled, he and Darian had began calling John "Too Tall" because of his towering height for his age.

John laughed to himself, then quickly looked seriously into Timothy's eyes.

"I can trust you to tell you something, as I hope you trust me to tell me anything."

"What is it?"

"I'm going to see Professor Peacecraft every now and then for private lessons in my empath abilities."

"That's good, John."

"But I want you to know, that I'll never use my abilities without permission. You don't have to worry about me reading your mind, or anyone else's, unless I have your permission… or their permission." By John's voice, Timothy knew he was giving a promise.

"Thanks." Timothy smiled faintly.

"There is one thing, however…" John said as Timothy turned to leave once more. "One thing that I'm having a hard time ignoring."

"What's that?" Timothy looked back at him.

"Your reason for talking with Luna. Something major and important… having something to do with the difficult times that I feel are coming. You play a role in that, and you know it. I want you to know that you can tell me and that you have my word that I won't tell a single soul as long as I live."

Timothy considered him a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

"When I know what it is I'm doing, I'll know I can tell you and Darian."

Timothy left and didn't wait, for John stood in his spot for a moment longer, looking at the spot where Timothy was before going into the portrait hole.

"Something tells me you already know, and you're afraid." He whispered, then quietly followed in Timothy's wake.


Timothy avoided the crowds leading toward the Quidditch pitch and instead went toward where he was told was the entrance to the Hufflepuff dorms. He knew that he couldn't get inside, but if he could wait by the entrance, maybe Luna would come out and he could catch her then. He walked down a corridor and became so caught up in his thoughts about the shadows he saw and the quest they sent him on, that he nearly walked into a large portrait of a map of the world.

"Map." He said dumbly, moving away to back track his lost steps. Then he stopped. "Map! Of course! I'm so stupid!"

The Marauder's Map would tell him where on the Hogwarts grounds Luna was. He had locked it in his trunk after what had happened in the passageway, not wanting to be tempted to go out again. But it was the key to finding Luna. And Luna was the key to everything else.

He wasn't stopped before he reached Hagrid's portrait.

"Shouldn't yeh be at 'da match, Timothy?" He asked with his booming voice.

"Forgot something." Timothy said simply and impatiently. "Unicorn hair."

Hagrid swung open and Timothy raced up to his dorm and flew open his trunk. With some easy searching he found the rolled and worn piece of parchment. He unrolled it and muttered the words to reveal it's many known, and unknown passageways and rooms… as well as the many dots of people on the grounds. After pouring over the map for five minutes, he finally found the dot labeled "Luna Dine". However, right next to it was "Eian Dumbledore" and "Alan Cott". Alan Cott he recognized, he was an auror who was in the Circle with his parents.

Timothy couldn't possibly have a private conversation with her if she was with not only Dumbledore, but with an auror who often saw his parents. With a grunt of frustration, Timothy muttered the words that cleared the map, rolled it up and placed it back in his trunk.

"I'll never figure this out." He fell back on his bed and stared angrily at the curtain covering his four poster. "Why did you leave this up to me? Why do I have to find the stupid crest? Why is it that I have to do it alone?"

The silence answered for him as tears threatened to break his eyes.

Because you are the son of Harry and Renee Potter… who said it would be easy?

Timothy laughed dryly to himself, turning over on his stomach so he could see out the dorm window. He could just make out the crowd cheering in the distance at the Quidditch match.

"Well Timothy… you wanted to prove you're more than a name. You got what you wished for and more."


The End-Of-Term feast caused the Great Hall to be adorned with scarlet and gold. Gryffindor had won the House Cup, much to Timothy's delighted surprise that Smith hadn't left so much of a dent in the points that it would cost them the cup. Among the festivities, Timothy forgot about all that had happened. He forgot about what he was destined to do. And he even forgot about Luna, who was sitting directly across from him at the Hufflepuff table. Staring at him from a quiet distance, unnoticed by anyone.

It wasn't until he was sitting in a compartment of the Hogwarts Express with John and Darian that the thought occurred to him.

"I never did speak with Luna." He said sadly.

"I still don't know why…" Darian started, arms crossed, but he stopped after seeing an intense look from John and he drew silent.

"You can speak with us, you know." John said quietly, looking down at his shoes which masked the fact that he was a full inch taller than Darian, who sat next to him.

"Yeah," Timothy said distantly. Then, without knowing why, he stood up. "I think I'm going to take a walk down the train and see if I can find the witch with the food cart. Want something?"

Darian and John shook their heads, and watched him as he left the compartment.

I can tell them, but only after I get answers. He said to himself.

What Timothy was really doing was looking in each compartment to see if Luna was even on the train. He went down to the back, where the first years mostly were… but didn't see her. Sighing heavily, hope dwindling even more, Timothy turned to go back… but something brown and small in the very last compartment made him stop.

He reached the door and looked in the window, and there, sitting alone next to the window was little Luna Dine. Her shoulder length brown hair was frazzled, and she looked off color and thinner than normal. Timothy slid the compartment door open gently; she didn't even look up.

"Hello." He said stupidly, closing the door behind him.

Luna sniffled a little, then fell silent once more, not once looking over at him. Timothy let out a deep breath and sat across from her. She looked a lot smaller than she actually was, and her small green eyes were dark from stress.

"I've been looking all over for you for weeks," Timothy started after a few awkward minutes. "I want to talk with you."

"Why?" Her voice was barely audible, and Timothy had to think a moment before answering to make sure that she even talked. She still didn't look at him, only out the window.

"Isn't it obvious?" Timothy blurted without thinking, and blushed sheepishly as Luna squinted her eyes closed hurtfully. "I mean, from what I was told… if it weren't for you, I'd still be trapped in that Offender's Oubliette right now."

Luna didn't respond right away, eyes still closed, but she slowly shook her head.

"It's my fault you were there in the first place. You should hate me… never want to see me again." She whispered, her voice choked as she obviously tried to hold back tears that had been wept many times before.

"You know that's not true," Timothy said soothingly, wishing desperately for her not to cry. "It was Smith's fault… he used you against your will."

"That… that's not… en-entirely t-true." Her jaw clenched tight as it became harder for her not to cry.

"What do you mean?" Timothy asked.

"He t-threatened my mother. She… she's his aunt and he's my cousin. He told me that it was helping to protect her… that you… that you threatened our family. I didn't know what he meant, but I wanted to help him. When I found out what he really meant… and who he was working for…" She let out a sob and buried her face into her hands.

Timothy drummed his fingers on his knees nervously, not knowing what he should do. All he could think of was continuing.

"You did something with the Glass of Tears." He said.

She nodded, her hands still covering her face and only messing up her hair more.

"I knew y-you weren't a bad person. How could you be? Your parents save us all from You-Know-Who. How could you threaten anyone? But when I found out he was working with his second cousin, Draco Malfoy, and what they planned to do… I-I couldn't continue to help and know that you were going to die."

"What did you do with it?" Timothy pressed.

Luna took a deep breath, uncovered her face, but stared down at her feet as she spoke.

"They gave me the glass before they installed it and told me to dip it in some sort of potion. It's purpose was to instantly kill whoever looked through it if they should ever find it. I'm not sure why there would be a way out if it was an oubliette. Yet I knew about the wall inside. Anyway, they sent me away to dip the glass. The whole time I was crying… I didn't want to do it… I knew what it would do. I had to do something. That was when I tripped, and some sort of powder fell over me. In my frustration, while holding the glass, I yelled how I wished there was someone who could help me help you. Well, suddenly, I was no longer in the room in the passageway, but in some sort of house. This man... I thought he was you father... came out and nearly hexed me. Thinking he was Harry Potter, I blurted out the plan in hopes that he could do something. To make a long story short… I somehow got transported in time and was not facing your father, but your grandfather. I still don't know if he believed me, but he took the glass and did something to it. Then he handed it back to me and told me I was to go back to my time, dowse myself in the powder again, and to go into the future to find yourself as an adult and your father."

"What did my grandfather do to the glass?" Timothy asked, awestruck.

Luna shrugged.

"I said I don't know. He had it for a long time, while I stood in his kitchen. I'm not sure what he did for that whole time, but he knew something I didn't, that's for sure."

"Well?"

"The time-travel powder only lasts for so long, and so I came back to our present time… then did what he told me to do. I went into the future, saw yourself as an adult and your father… and they did the same exact thing with the glass. They didn't tell me anything about what they did, only that to make sure that the wall in the oubliette would give you a clue as to how to solve it. I came back, gave Taku the glass… then secretly did a spell on the oubliette that would cause the wall to give you clues."

Timothy stared at her, speechless. Luna glanced briefly at his face and looked away.

"If you're gonna ask about what you are like in the future, I was told not to say anything."

Timothy opened his mouth to speak, but decided not to. Luna looked back to stare out the window and they remained silent until Timothy noticed they were nearing Platform 9 and ¾.

"Luna," He said finally as he felt the train slow down. "Nothing could express how grateful I am for what you did. Thanks."

For the first time, Luna looked up into his eyes and they no longer looked so dark.

The door suddenly slid open and Darian, huffing and puffing and glaring at Timothy, stood in the doorway.

"There you are! For crying out loud, we've been looking all over the place for you!"

"Sorry." Timothy muttered, still looking at Luna. He smiled at her, and he could see a faint grin on hers as she looked away again. Darian grabbed his arm and began to pull him out.

"Have a good summer, Luna." He called to her as Darian pulled him into the isle.

"Here you are, cavorting with a girl while me and John worry like crazy! The nerve!" Darian muttered to himself as he dragged Timothy along, but Timothy wasn't listening.

I still don't know about the crest. Oh, what am I going to do?

"Here's your chest, Timothy." John pulled out Timothy's trunk, with Windstone's cage nestled on top. Windstone hooted nervously as Timothy made his way off the train and through the crowd.

"Owl me, maybe you can come over and teach me some new moves on my broom." Darian slapped Timothy on the shoulder as he eyed his father somewhere on the platform.

"Sure, see you later, Darian!" Timothy called after him.

He looked to John, and John was staring solemnly at the couple he recognized as his parents off and away from the crowd.

"Don't worry about it, Too Tall… you can come over my house anytime, no problem." He said, trying to cheer John with a smile. John smiled feebly back and gathered his things.

"Send Windstone. I'll be waiting for him." He walked off and disappeared.

"TIMOTHY! Timothy, Timothy, Timothy!"

"Oh no." Groaned a voice from Timothy's pocket. Jeff had been stuffed in there from a long nap on top of his trunk for the ride home.

Kalina came bounding toward Timothy and threw herself at him, very much the same way she did at Christmas.

"Hey you." He choked as she grabbed his neck and her long brown hair covered his face as she pulled him down.

"There you are!" Cried his mother, coming over and gently pulling Kalina away. He fell into her arms.

"Mum!"

"How are you sweetheart?" She kissed him on the head.

"My turn."

Timothy pulled away and ran to his father, who nearly picked him up when he caught him.

"Hey there, how's it going?" His father laughed, putting him down and ruffling his hair.

Timothy looked up at him and his mother, and didn't answer right away. He leaned against his father's side as they led him off the platform before he finally whispered.

"Fine, as long as I'm with my family."


The journey begins.

A/N: ::taps fingers nervously on desk:: Well, how was it? To be honest, the story (to me at least) was dragging and I was getting bord. Maybe because I'm anxious to get to that one parter and write something different. But don't worry, Timothy has yet another adventure in a new series. Ten guesses and a cookie to those who can figure out what Timothy's story is now based on ::winks::. Anywho, if this chapter seemed rushed and sorta-kinda confusing, blame my impatient quality that I share with my older brother Tim (he's Timothy's namesake, heehee). I don't like how Luna explained everything, and yes, I meant Timothy to explain twice how he solved the puzzle... to his father & to Eian. Oh well, time for something different. Don't expect Timothy to return for a while, but knowing me, I'll get impatient again and start writing it anyway.
Now, the scoop with my website is that it's just a freak'n piece of #!%@#$%#$% ::horn honks in backround and mother comes to scold for bad language::. Ahem, sorry, but if you haven't already tried... IT WON'T LET A SINGLE SOUL IN TO IT, let alone be able to update it. So now, as my birthday is almost less than a month away now, I'm searching for a program that will help me learn HTML and build a professional & spiffy site on my own. If worse comes to worse, I'll buy one of those books. At least now I know what HTML stands for!
Enough on that, now I would like to thank all of you wonderful people who review each and every time! But you know what? I'm an idiot and don't write down your names! But you know who you are! But low... what's this... ah, a certain person named Harry&Cho asked me about getting past the Water Temple in Zelda! Guess what? That's where I am now and this level is making me dizzy! But I have help, and that comes from a spiffy website that tells you step by step how to do EVERYTHING. Only I don't have the link memorized so you'll have to email me for it.
So what can you expect next? I'm going to start writing "All I Can Give" this week. It will be one part, but you know how long my one parters are! Then I want to do something different again, if my mom won't torment (if I spelled that wrong, slap me) to begin work on my original novel again. I need beta readers for my one parter when I'm done, so if you would like to have an exclusive preview to it before it's posted, email me. Don't worry 007, I will beta read you story if I haven't already. Hey, this is long and I want to go enjoy this rare Florida super cold snap (it's 50 degrees outside! Eeek that's cold!) out at Disney so I shall leave you here. You know what you can do now? REVIEW! Yes, that's right!
::throws on a fleece thingie and runs outside::
~OrcaPotter