Time is a Healer

by Hannanora-Potter

Harry Ron & Hermione are suddenly pulled into the Marauder's sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with the chance to meet his parents & reunite with Sirius, Harry starts cutting his ties with the future. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

14. In which everyones does a lot of running

Title: Time is a Healer

Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

Timeline and Spoilers: Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

Extra: 'blah' = thoughts

Chapter 14 – In Which Everyone Does A Lot Of Running:

James, Ron, Remus and Peter all turned to stare at Hermione. "What?" asked Ron, confused. "Why? What's wrong?"

But Hermione wasn't listening. "How could I have been so stupid! It was right there in front of me the entire time!"

"Hermione?" asked Ron.

Hermione looked up at him, eyes fearful. "It was Time, Ron," she explained, scrabbling to her feet. "It wasn't a time turner or a spell! It was Time himself!"

Ron stared at her, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. It sounded crazy, but… "Come off it, Hermione," he scoffed doubtfully. "Time's just a concept, a… a thing, it's not a person… is it?"

Hermione glared at him. "Does it matter? All that matters is that this explains totally what's going on and – more importantly – what's going to happen to Harry if we don't find him now!"

"What's going to happen to Harry?" asked James suddenly, eyes flashing in anger.

"Look, we're just wasting time!" Hermione snapped, wringing her hands. "Let's just get back to Gryffindor Tower and I'll explain on the way."

They set off at a run, not tearing off madly, but fast enough that Hermione felt they were getting somewhere. If something happened to Harry before they got to him… she swallowed uneasily.

"Like I said, we were wrong about what sent us here, but right about the why – or, at least, sort of," she started to explain, weaving through the Hogwart's corridors.

"Are you planning on making sense any time today, Hermione?" asked Ron, annoyed.

It was a mark of how panicked Hermione was that she didn't even glare at him. She just carried on. "That wizard in the corridor, I'm pretty sure that was Time. I remember reading in some book ages ago that in the early 11th century many witches and wizards believed that some of the ancient Gods and Goddesses weren't myths. That they actually existed on a different plane to us and were immortal. They weren't omniscient and omnipotent – "

"Come again?" asked Peter and Ron, simultaneously.

"All powerful and all knowing," Remus supplied, watching Hermione as much as possible without crashing into a wall or tripping over a suit of armour. He looked extremely thoughtful. So did James. "Carry on, Hermione."

"Thanks, Remus," gasped Hermione, jumping onto a staircase that was just settling into place. "These witches and wizards believed that these Gods and Goddesses weren't all powerful like the Christian One God, but were lesser beings, sort of like demi-Gods, with immortality and greater magical powers than humans and other magical beings on Earth. A bit like Phoenixes in that sense. I believe that Time is one of these."

"But how is Time a lesser God, Hermione?" asked James, sweat trickling down his forehead. It was a cold October night, but they were so far away from Gryffindor Tower and Hogwarts was such as a riddle of tunnels and staircases that he was willing to bet even the ghosts would have worked up a sweat running around it. "How can that be? I mean, Time is essential. It's what holds the world together." Remus nodded his head in agreement.

But Hermione was shaking hers. "No, that's not true – oh no!" She cut herself off, coming to a complete halt and grabbing Ron and James to stop them going any further. Remus grabbed Peter, though he looked at Hermione in confusion. "Peeves," Hermione mouthed and jerked her head at a tapestry nearby. It hid a semi-secret passageway that went nowhere near where they were trying to go but that at least led them out of the poltergeist's way.

Tiptoeing quietly along a gloomy, dark passageway was extremely hard when they had adrenaline pumping round their veins and especially hard for Hermione, who was the only one who knew what was at stake here. With the absence of explaining to the others what was going on, her mind was left to imagine what could be happening to Harry – 'and what is going to happen to him if he doesn't – '

"Hermione? We should be out of range now," Remus said, thankfully halting her thoughts. She started running again, wincing at the protest from her already trembling muscles. She hoped they weren't going to give up on her. She knew she had a lot more running to do. 'I need to start running in the morning. When you're Harry's friend, you know you're going to need it.'

"As I was saying," she continued, after racking her brains for where she left off, "Time is everywhere, but it's relative."

"Um… care to explain that, Hermione?" asked Ron, confused. "You know, for us mere mortals?"

"Well, if you were sat on a rocket…er…. A broom that went at extremely fast speeds," she amended, not really sure whether Ron – or Peter, James and Remus for that matter – would know what a rocket was, "and I mean really fast, and you had a clock on your broom then that clock would go more slowly than for someone with a clock who wasn't sitting on the broom. Time would be the same for you as normal – you wouldn't feel yourself going in slow motion or anything, but your clock would be going slower nonetheless."

There was a rather long pause after her statement before…

"Huh?"

'Ok, time to try another track.' "Look, space time is directly linked with energy and matter and… well, space," Hermione explained, trying to put in a simpler form. "Space didn't always exist. Please tell me you've at least heard of the theory of the Big Bang?"

She got three blank stares, but a thoughtful frown from Remus. "That's the theory that the Universe started in a… well, a big bang and that space started expanding – and still is today," he supplied, still frowning. "But I still don't see what that has to do with what we're talking about."

Hermione tried not to scream in exasperation. They were still wasting time! "What I'm trying to say is that when the Universe was created it was created alongside Time," she pointed out, almost tripping over a tattered looking rug that was sticking up. "In other words, that someone – or something – had to create Time in order for it to exist now. It wasn't here first and therefore it cannot be the God, for lack of a better word. And Time itself can be manipulated by simple astronomical phenomenem, such as black holes, which bend and slow down Time because of their massive gravitational pull."

She had lost them again. She ended up by just growling and snapping, "Just take my word for it, okay?" The others all nodded quickly, all realising that the technical details were not what was important right now. They were all breathing heavily now, and their pace was much slower. Hermione just accepted it, no matter how much she wanted to push it. "Anyway, this piece of paper is like the closing chapter for that big book we stole form the Library. I'll just read it to you, shall I?"

The gradually came to a halt. As much as she didn't like the wasted time, Hermione realised it was necessary. They all had to understand in order to help Harry. Holding the tatty, yellowing paper out in front of her, Hermione read;

Time:

Whilst covering all the accepted methods of Time travel, there is still one last chapter to this book: the subject of Time himself.

It has been hypothesised in the early 11th Century AD that Time is not a concept or a dimension, as muggle scientists have come to believe in the latter few decades of recent history, but a demi-God, with powers over the individuals that exist in time. Namely, this includes everyone on the Earth and in the Universe.

Time, however, is a term that simply is the best we humans can come up with to describe this God figure. Time is concerned with the future, about the preservation of life and all that is yet to happen. The past is gone and done and cannot be changed, which is why he is perceived as a demi-God, rather than the true God that created everything in the Universe – for that would mean Time is subjugated to his own rules and cannot, really, interfere. This was the theory of the witches and wizards of the 11th Century which has, in recent years, been further proven by muggle scientists in the last few decades (the 20th Century). This shows that the world and Universe was created with a Big Bang at the same time that time was created. In other words, time and space was created simultaneously. And if Time was the true God, Time would be older than the Universe.

Time's responsibilities show that the Past is fixed and cannot be changed. If someone does time travel into the past it will make no difference because it has already happened and the consequences are not new, but have already been played out. However, Time has been in a constant battle, ever since the first tinniest fraction of a second has passed, with his brother Past.

Past is depicted as a hairless black creature with red glowing eyes that will appear sometimes to time travellers who have travelled backwards into the past. Past's real – and only – powers lie in these people as he cannot influence any changes in the domain he holds rule over as all the important decisions and consequences have been played out by his brother, Time (who, because of their domains, some witches and wizards have taken to calling Future, but because 'Time's' domain also includes the present it is easier to call him Time.). But he does hold power over those sent back into the past, especially if their thoughts dwell on the past – for example, grieving a lost one and so forth. Past has the ability to force a person to relieve the memories that they dwell on, rather like a dementor can cause someone to relive bad memories if they have ones bad enough. If they can force the person deep enough into the past – in thought, heart and body – then they become trapped there and are destroyed. This throws Time into chaos and anarchy, especially if it is one that Time has sent back himself*. It is easier to describe just how this is by likening it to a chess game. Imagine you a playing a game and, suddenly, one of your pieces disappears for no reason. It might not do much damage to the game as a whole, but it could also completely swing the game the other way, especially if it is a pivotal piece, such as the Queen. And what happens if the piece that disappears is the King, but you cannot stop that game? It would be impossible for the other person to win, because in order to win a game of chess you need to checkmate the King. Thus, there is chaos.

Although acknowledged to be mortal enemies, Time cannot destroy Past, for if he did then he would cease to exist, for even for the smallest, tinniest nano of a second to pass there will be the creation of Past. However, technically speaking, Past can destroy Time for he needs only the present and the future is of no consequence to him. With Time gone, Past holds enough power in the present to freeze it and hold it there indefinitely, able to make everyone relieve the past over and over again. Hence, any battles that the two hold are always won by Past, but he never destroys Time, for as long as Time lives, his domain will increase and the Past is always greedy for more – hence the difficulty and number of post syndromes, whether it be from stress, pregnancies, trauma, bereavement and so on.

As to Time's place in this book? As well as underpinning everything this book is about, Time has the power to send people back to the Past, without the aid of any of the magical devices and/or spells we have seen earlier in this book – in other words, by pure will alone. Accounts of this are very sketchy and rare. As a lot of them were from the witches and wizards who first stumbled across this concept in the 11th century (a concept that was laughed at and almost promptly forgot by the majority of the magical community) they were dismissed. Time, it is believed, cannot accurately predict the future – there are too many random factors (a branch of muggle science called Quantum Mechanics deals directly with this unpredictability of life and time) – but he can sense who will be the important players and when he feels that the one of the players is going to die before the event that will decide the fate of the future he will send them back into the past to protect them. This comes with a certain amount of risk, as already discussed above. They are often given a sign of how long they will have to stay in the past, although they will not realise what it signifies. They are sent into the past by Time and only Time, therefore, can bring them forward. And only when they are ready.

This method of time travel is completely different to all the other methods discussed in this book and is never up to the time traveller, but the decision of Time and the part they are to play in the future. It is unpredictable, dangerous and not guaranteed to result in a return trip and is the random x-factor of temporal journeys.

The End

"The end?" asked Ron, after a slight seconds pause. "But what was the rush about, 'Mione?"

Hermione glared at him. "That's because I haven't finished yet. Listen:"

* those that Time has sent back will invariably come up against Past in his physical form. The beast attacks not the body, but the mind of the traveller, and if the traveller is troubled by the death of a loved one, it will attack those that the traveller has lost. I the traveller does not begin to accept this death, he will fall closer to Past. Past will appear to them four times after which it will be too late to fight off Past again and the traveller is doomed to remain under the grasp of Past where he will invariably be destroyed.

"Destroyed?" James whispered, swallowing uncomfortably and feeling dread rising in his chest.

Hermione nodded uncomfortably, feeling tears well in her eyes. Harry had had such a bad life. She could understand why he wanted to stay where he was loved and wanted and unrecognised. But he had to move on, otherwise he would be joining his parents and Sirius like he wanted – but in death, not life.

Remus spoke up then. "Harry's a King, isn't he? Or, at least a Queen."

At first Hermione didn't know what Remus was talking about and then she remembered the chess analogy. She just nodded. Why else would Time send him back?

"Hermione, you were right," said Ron suddenly, looking up from where he'd been staring at the floor, deep in thought.

Hermione looked surprised. "I was?" she asked, before she could stop herself. "About what?"

"We've got to find Harry!"

Ron's words were like a bucket of cold water. The realisation of what was going on hit them all at once and the jerked into action, dashing the final few corridors towards the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"You said he was in Hogsmeade?" asked Hermione, for the second time ignoring the protest by her legs.

"Yes, but they could be back by now – they could be anywhere in Hogwarts or Hogsmeade – we might never find them!" James cried, panicking. Part of it was for Harry, but part of it was for Sirius. 'That book said that Past got it's power over Harry by attacking those he's lost – that means Sirius.'

"What about the Map?" gasped Ron, turning to stare at him.

"How do you know about the Map?" asked Peter, forgetting just exactly who they were for a moment.

"Harry's got it," Ron replied, answering Peter's question because he could see it in James' face too. "I don't know whether he's taken it with him, though."

"Ours was confiscated," James said gloomily, before grinning as best he could in the current situation. "We don't have it any more, though it's encouraging to know we'll get it back some day."

Ron didn't have the heart to correct him.

As they skidded to a stop in front of her, the Fat Lady stared at them in total astonishment, mouth hanging open at the sight of them all. Ron thought it would have looked quite comical if he didn't feel like he was going to be sick. She was stuttering, but they didn't have time for her to get over her surprise. "Cinderella!" James gasped, for once not feeling a total idiot as he said it.

The portrait swung open and they all surged inside, ignoring the Fat Lady's continued spluttering. James turned to the others, "I'll go get your map then and – "

"Um, James?"

They all turned to the sound of the voice and all of them – even James – groaned as one. For, standing there, was the last person they wanted to see last now.

It was Lily.

~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~

'It's okay. I can do this. It's only James, after all.'

'Yeah, and that's what makes it so hard.'

Lily groaned to herself and nervously smoothed down the black trousers she was wearing. It was very late now and no one was left in the Common Room. The fire was still crackling in the corner, but it was looking quite dull now. 'Damn you, Potter,' she thought rebelliously. 'You can't even make a simple apology seem… well, simple!' She had gone to bed early under the pretence of a headache, but hadn't slept a wink. Instead, she had tossed and turned all night, thinking about what James had said to her and, more importantly, what he had looked like when he said it.

"Well, I HATE you, James Potter and I hope you drop dead!"

Lily cringed to herself. As much as she often thought James behaved terribly towards others she had behaved just as bad towards him, if not worse. Even though she was worried about him – 'and why is that, again?' – she had revelled in being able to torment James, give him a piece of his own medicine. And that made her just as bad as James. 'Well, maybe not as bad as James, I mean, no one can ever be that mean apart from possibly Black.'

And that was her whole problem there. She was as arrogant towards James as he was to everyone else. She thought she was better than him.

Potter gave a choked laugh. "But that would be fair," he said, with another strangled laugh. "And why would life be fair to me?"

She sighed and tossed over in her bed again, trying to blink away the image of his face as he said that. 'He looks as though he really means it. As though he really believes he's going to die. But he can't honestly believe that Hermione, Ron and Harry are from the future… can he?'

She thought about the supposed time travellers. Hermione had never needed showing around the school. When Lily was a first year it had taken her – and all the other first years – at least a month to say they could comfortably find their way around the school to the important parts. But she had been further lost by new classrooms in her third year when she had taken up the electives. And she still didn't know her way around some of the more obscure parts of the school. She didn't know where the kitchens were, or how to get into the attics – even if they had attics. The only people who she reckoned could really find their way around the entire castle were Potter and his damned friends. But Hermione had never really needed Lily's help. Sure she was older than a first year but still…

So, as much as she hated to admit it, James was right about them being suspicious. And the incident with that… thing. That didn't happen to just any one. Could he be right? But then, they surely wouldn't have told him that he dies in the future would they? They could not be that cruel.

Still Lily lay there, tossing and turning, James' voice and her own echoing round and round in her head.

"Oh, shut up, Potter," snapped Lily, folding her arms across her chest decidedly. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

"You know, for someone who supposedly hates my guts you're extremely nosy about my personal life," Potter told her, smiling knowingly.

'He has a point,' Lily thought. 'Why do I care so much? I mean, I don't like him. I hate him, we always fight – well, I fight and he flirts,' Lily amended with a sad chuckle. The laugh died in her throat as her eyes opened in shock. 'Wait! I don't like James…do I? We argue all the time…but I have been missing that. And that prank for Hermione…Sirius wouldn't know a muggle band if it bit him on the arse. That would make it James' idea. That was really sweet, but I don't remember enjoying it much.'

"All you need is love, LOVE!"

Lily frowned at the remembered flashback. 'It was really irresponsible of them… but it was so funny,' she laughed to herself. 'But I was so miserable. Why?'

"I'm sorry, Evans, but what does my personal and emotional state have to do with you?" he asked, almost coolly.

That had hurt. He had been so cold to her… James had never been cold to her. 'Even though I've always been horrible to him,' she realised, feeling guilty. 'He's always so nice to me and I always have a go at him.' Her guilt suddenly faded as another memory echoed through her head.

"My dearest Evans, what I am trying to say is... will you marry me?"

'Well, it serves him right,' she thought huffily. 'He's such a git, being the perfect gentleman and flirt to the best looking girls and a perfect bastard to everyone else. I mean look at what he did to Snape just the other day and just because he's in Slytherin and has greasy hair. And poor Bertha just two weeks ago. He made her cry just because she was spotty. I hate him!"

"Well, I HATE you, James Potter and I hope you drop dead!"

"I wish you hadn't said that, Evans," said Potter, softly. He sounded... odd. "I'd almost forgotten about it."

Guilt came flooding back to her and she sat up in sudden determination. Whatever he had done, he didn't deserve to die. He sounded like a lost, frightened, little child and she had been ghastly to him. She owed him an apology.

Decision made, she got out of bed. She was surprised to see that all her year mates where in bed – well, nearly all of them. Hermione's bed was empty, pristinely made. Lily frowned at it, reflecting again on the absurdity of James' lie – 'or of the truth' – as she pulled on some trousers and lots of jumpers: it was freezing cold. She knew it was late – Merlin only knew the times that her dorm mates usually fell into bed – but she had to do it now, whilst she still could. She could not bear the thought of never apologising for her terrible behaviour and she knew the longer she put it off she would eventually convince herself that James had deserved it. And then how would she feel when he died?

'If he dies,' she corrected herself sternly, as she crept down the stairs and into the empty common room. 'I don't think he was lying, but surely no one would be so cruel as to tell him his future if that was in store?'

She was creeping up the stairs to the boys' dormitory now, the soft padding of her feet accompanied occasionally by soft snores from behind the shut doors. It seemed to take longer than earlier to reach the top of the tower than before. But then, she supposed, she was dreading this experience much more – much, much more – than the one earlier. First of all, the mere fact that she was even contemplating apologising to James Potter, her arch-nemesis, was more than enough to freak her out. Then there was the fact that there was everyone else in the dormitory, asleep, wearing Merlin knew what… she shuddered at the thought of Black in boxers. 'Plus, I'll finally be able to solve the problem of those boxers.' She shuddered again.

She hesitated outside the Sixth Year dormitory, breathing deeply. 'Cause the less I need to breathe in there is a good thing.'

She opened the door and stared.

For not a single bed was filled.

It was completely empty.

So here Lily was now. Sitting nervously, waiting for James to come back from whatever stupid prank he was pulling now. She was finding it harder and harder to feel sympathetic towards him when he was so obviously out wreaking his usual kind of havoc on the school and, most likely, the Slytherins as well. Her resolve to apologise was slipping and she was just telling herself that she would wait five more minutes before she went back to bed when the portrait hole slid open and a jumble of people rushed in. She could hear the Fat Lady spluttering incoherently from outside and got to her feet uncertainly as James, red faced and slightly out of breath, turned to the others. Lily got to her feet.

I'll go get your map then and – "

"Um, James?" Lily ventured, timidly, reasoning that she might as well get it over with.

They turned to her as one and, much to her surprise, they all groaned as one. Lily found herself blushing furiously and was very hurt to see that Hermione not only was with them but had groaned as well. Besides what she had said to James she had been feeling very guilty over what she had said to Hermione, but now it seemed that her accusation was right. Despite the very unpleasant feeling inside that she was not welcome here, Lily stuck out her chin and walked up to James, wishing fervently that her cheeks weren't so red. "James," she said, resisting the urge to look away as she looked him in the eye, "I just want to apologise about what I said earlier and that I'm really – "

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Lily!" James snapped at her, looking extremely angry and brushing past her aggressively. "It's half one in the morning and you want to apologise? Go to bed. I thought it was something important!"

And he ran off up the stairs to the boys dormitory, leaving a very awkward group of Gryffindor sixth years and an extremely indignant Lily, who stared after him, cheeks heating up again. But in anger this time. Not embarrassment.

"Well, of all the rude, egocentric gits!" she gasped, staring after him for a while longer before turning on the others. "And you!" she hissed, glaring at them vindictively, puffing up her chest (although her prefect badge was still on her robes so the effect was kind of lost). "What do you think you're doing walking around the school like this at this time of night! Remus, you're a prefect! And Hermione!" she added, glaring forcefully at her so-called friend. "This is the last thing I'd expect from you!"

Hermione blushed slightly, but glared back at Lily. "James is right, Lily," she told the red head. "You should go to bed."

Lily gaped at her. "Who are you telling me what I should do? I don't see a prefect badge on your clothes."

"Well, there's not one on yours at the moment either," retorted Hermione. The two girls glared at each other.

Peter shifted uneasily. "James is being a long time," he pointed out feebly. "Maybe I should go help him find the – so we can be on our way," he finished hurriedly and made towards the stairs. Unfortunately, speaking had drawn Lily-the-Prefect's wrath on him and she gave him the full force of her glare.

"You're going out again?" she hissed angrily. Peter paled and the other three groaned, but the cat was out of the bag now. "Well, I'm not going to let you!"

"Some things are more important than school rules, Lily," Remus pointed out quietly.

Lily rounded on him. "You're a prefect, Remus!" she snapped. "You should be backing me up, not collaborating with the likes of them! And besides, I fail to see any situation that would condone the breaking of school rules."

"I've found it!" came a voice from the stairs and James suddenly hurtled into view, clutching a yellowed piece of parchment to his chest in much the same manner that Hermione had been holding the book extract earlier. His voice and step faltered when he saw Lily standing there. "What are you doing here still, Evans?"

Lily took a deep breath, any earlier resolution gone. She was itching to slap him again. "Stopping you from breaking school rules," she informed him, equally cold.

James just raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh really, Evans?" he asked, casually.

"Yes!" Lily insisted, feeling annoyed at his lack of concern. She strode over and stood in front of the entrance, blocking their exit. Her voice began to rise in volume as he still didn't react. "You're not leaving the common room, Potter!"

"Lily, for goodness sake, just let us through!" cried the red headed boy, Ron, in worried exasperation. "We're wasting time!"

"Rules are rules," insisted Lily, glaring at them and – for the third time in the last five minutes at least – felt her face warming up. "I'm not letting you go anywhere!"

"Evans, just get over yourself for once and let us bloody well past!" yelled James, also going red in the face.

"You go and I'll tell Professor McGonagall!" Lily screeched, clenching her fists so tightly that she actually drew blood. "And you're the one that needs to get over yourself, Potter! Playing God to everyone in the school along with that pathetic excuse of a friend, Black! You, Potter, not me!"

"Damn it, Lily, there are some things more important than school!" James bellowed.

Lily snorted. "Oh yeah, like what?"

"HOW ABOUT THE LIFE OF OUR BEST FRIEND AND YOUR SON?"

Everyone froze and stared at Hermione, who was glaring at Lily with such a fierce intensity that everyone took an involuntary step backwards (Peter and Ron took three). The pure anger and terror on Hermione's face made Lily falter slightly, but she wasn't going to be tricked by that one. "Not that nonsense again!" she scoffed, but there was a hint of doubt in her voice that Hermione picked up on.

"It's not nonsense, Lily," she told the other girl, breathing deeply and trying to talk calmly. "We really are from the future and Harry really is your son. But whether you accept that or not, it still doesn't change the fact that unless you let us leave he might die."

Lily stared at her. "Don't be ridiculous, Hermione," she laughed uncertainly. "What on Earth is going to be in school that's going to kill Harry?" 'And he is not my son!' she added mentally, shivering. That little fact was just freaking her out, because Harry looked so like James and, well… if he was her son, then it turned out that what James had told her was right and one day she was going to have to answer that question of his with something other than a slap.

"How about that monster that attacked him the last night in the Great Hall, Lily?" asked Remus quietly. "It appeared out of nowhere, half killed Harry and then disappeared into thin air. Even Dumbledore doesn't know what it was. But we do now and if you don't let us out of here, it's going to attack Harry again and this time it could kill him."

There was a tense silence. Lily was gaping at him now, mouth hanging open. Her mind was hurriedly trying to make sense of Remus' words, but everything seemed to be jumbling together in a mess. "But that thing last night, it didn't attack Harry. It went after Black," Lily pointed out, as a feeble protest. She didn't want to believe them, but she seemed to be anyway.

"But when it went, who was the one that was bleeding uncontrollably?" James asked quietly.

That Lily couldn't deny. She had been there. She had seen how terrible Harry looked afterwards, blood pouring out of his bandaged hand, crying out for Sirius. She shivered again. There was only one question left now. "But why? Why go after Harry?"

The others seemed to sense that she was beginning to believe them and relaxed slightly. It was Hermione who answered her question, walking up and taking Lily by the arm. "It's a long story, Lily, and we haven't got time now," she said, speaking gently, as though Lily had just received a great shock – 'which,' she reminded herself, 'I have.' "Just go to bed and we'll tell you everything in the morning."

It was only then that Lily noticed the other girl was gently steering her to the girl's dormitories. She glared and dug her heels in. "I'm not going to bed, Hermione," she told her forcefully.

James immediately went purple, face contorting in anger. "Damn it, Lily! Hasn't anything we've said gone into your overly dense brain?"

Lily glared at him. "I'm not going, because I'm coming with you!" she corrected angrily, and James stopped mid-sentence, looking surprised and embarrassed. "If he really is my son – and even if he wasn't – do you honestly think I'll just stand to one side whilst he could die?" She wrenched her arm out of Hermione's and folded them across her chest daring anyone to say otherwise.

There was another silence and then Hermione said, rather timidly, "Well, shall we go then?"

"I got the Map," James said, waving the battered piece of parchment that Lily had seen him coming down the staircase with.

Everyone crowded around him as James said – after glancing at Lily nervously – "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Lily was the only one who gasped as the blank parchment suddenly sprouted lines, which raced each other all over the parchment to form... 'A map of Hogwarts!' Lily thought mentally, totally entranced. Over the top of the map was sprawled, in familiar messy handwriting, the words Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present The Marauders' Map. And, what first looked like inkblots splattered over the parchment was, in fact, inkblots, but inkblots that moved and had little names under them. By looking at the Map she could see that Filch was patrolling the charms corridor on the fourth floor, whilst Professor Dumbledore was in his office. Looking at where the Gryffindor common room was, she could quite clearly see a cluster of dots, with the names 'Lily Evans', 'James Potter', 'Remus Lupin', 'Peter Pettigrew', 'Hermione Granger' and 'Ronald Weasley'.

The others were scanning the Map, too, but not with the fascination and amazement of Lily. They were scrutinising every corner of it. "There's no sign of either of them," James was saying, sounding worried.

"Wait a minute!" Lily said, feeling way out of her depth again. "You – you made this map, James?" He didn't reply, so Lily took that to be a yes. After all, there was only one person called 'Prongs' in the school. "But that's against the school rules!"

Everyone ignored her, except for Peter who gave her a worried look. James just carried on talking as though she hadn't spoken at all. "This means that they must be in Hogsmeade. Damn it! Why didn't we extend the Map into Hogsmeade again, Moony?"

"Hogsmeade?" repeated Lily, before she could think. "But that's against the school rules, too!"

This time she wasn't ignored, but she rather wished she had been when everyone turned to stare at her incredulously. "Lily, who cares?" asked James, scornfully. "You can take points off them and us when we get back and make sure that they're both not dead! Ok?"

She nodded, red faced again and feeling very small.

"James!" said Hermione suddenly. She had been the only one to continue scrutinising the Map when Lily had spoken. She sounded frightened. "Look there, going across the school grounds towards Hogsmeade! It's Past!"

"Huh?" Lily asked, totally confused. 'Past what? That sentence didn't make any sense at all!' But she seemed to be the only one who didn't understand as everyone else paled.

"The statue of the humpbacked witch!" ordered James, grabbing the Map off Hermione and stuffing it into a pocket, but not before whispering "Mischief Managed!' and Lily watched in fascination as all the intricate outlines of classrooms and corridors vanished, leaving behind nothing but a yellowed piece of parchment. The parchment vanished from sight as James stuffed it into his pocket and began to race towards the portrait hole.

Lily restrained a groan as she began to move after them. 'I hate not knowing what the Hell is going on here! And I am so going to get expelled for this!'

~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~

Time seemed to be slowing, dragging at him, so that every second seemed to take a thousand years. The memories were so bad now. He seemed to be living in them, experiencing the pain of each one at the same time, but magnified a thousand times. He couldn't remember anything else but watching Sirius fall through that veil with his parents succumbing to that blast of green light just to one side, Cedric, glassy eyed and motionless at their feet. Pain and remorse, guilt and anger, filled him completely until he was brimming with emotion. He could feel tears coursing down his cheeks. They stung, but they also burned. His hand was hurting him so much that it seemed it should block out all the other pain her was feeling. But if anything it was amplifying it. Hours of brooding over Sirius' death came back to him, relived in agonising slowness, but in reality it passed in barely a second. All the loneliness he had felt as a child, the ache of being alone and unloved, was exerted on him in the deliberate methods of a torturer. The way his hand had clenched hold of Cedric's cold, lifeless ones was stretched out until his good arm was aching.

And, behind it all, was two great bulbs of red light, pulsating and throbbing, whispering to him.

Potter… Potter…

~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~

James had never felt like this before. Never. He was absolutely terrified. James Potter never was terrified. About anything. Or for anyone. Sure, he was worried about his parents – the Potter one was distinguished and, aside from being purebloods, the epitome of everything Death Eaters despised and sought to wipe out. But his parents could take care of themselves. They were aurors after all.

He was worried when Sirius had turned up on his doorstep in summer, looking like he's spent the last few days living on the street – which he had.

He was worried when Voldemort's minions attacked the school.

He was worried when Sirius had been attacked by Past.

But he had never been terrified.

Harry was an enigma to James, really. He couldn't even begin to understand him because he had no idea what his life had been like. Well, actually, that wasn't true. He knew facts about Harry's life. Lost father and Godfather, a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders, having to fight wars when he was a kid. But he couldn't understand Harry. He didn't think anyone could. Ron and Hermione might have had an inkling, but that was all. James had an idea that perhaps Dumbledore was the only one who came close to understanding Harry. The only one who ever would.

But, enigma or no, Harry was his son. He choked back a strangled laugh. His father would never believe how quickly he had adhered to the responsibilities of fatherhood, however small they were. His mother would understand. She was the only one he sometimes dropped his act around. His father thought he was a carbon copy of Sirius. So did everyone else. But he wasn't. He did care.

And that was why, now, running through the halls of Hogwarts for the second time that evening, James Potter found himself truly terrified. He was risking more than likely expulsion, running around Hogwarts with two time travelling teenagers, one extremely huffy prefect a mild tempered werewolf and a near-squib rat animagus, to try and save his yet to be conceived, let alone born, time-traveling son form certain death by a foe he couldn't possibly defeat.

He didn't think anyone would blame him for being terrified.

"How many times has Past appeared to Harry?" asked Remus, suddenly as they came to a halt, waiting for a staircase to swing into their current location.

"Well, there was one time in the infirmary," panted Hermione, grasping onto a banister for support, "and obviously that time in the Great Hall."

"So this time's the third," concluded James, feeling a little better. "Well, at least this means if we don't get there in time, there's still one more visitation left. Plenty of time."

Hermione glared at him. "That does not make this any more urgent!" she snapped.

"Er… actually, I think that this is the fourth time, James," ventured Peter, timidly, looking very ashen faced.

Five heads whipped round to look at him. "What?"

Peter flinched but carried on. "It was a few days ago. I finished my essay early and went to see if Quidditch practice had finished yet. I looked out a window and saw Harry coming back alone when something big and black jumped out at him… I suppose that was Past. Harry did a spell and this big black stag came out his wand and he just sat there for ages. Then it disappeared and Harry did another spell and this time the stag was silver and Past went away," Peter gabbled, hardly pausing to breath.

"Holy Merlin, Peter!" cried James, the goodish feeling rapidly dissipating, "why the hell didn't you tell us?"

Peter flinched again, turning red and ashamed. "I… well, I wasn't even sure that I had really seen it," he said, not looking anyone in the eye. "And he seemed to be fine in the morning and, anyway, who was I going to tell?" he snapped, looking up suddenly, angry. "It's not as if any of you guys were on great terms with another!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Lily shifted nervously and opened her mouth, presumably to ask what the Hell was going on, but he cut her off. "Still not now, Lily! We have to go!"

Almost as if on cue a staircase decided to appear on the landing and James tore up after it, hearing the others dashing behind him. Probably the most sensible thing would be to tell Dumbledore, but James had a feeling that this had to be solved by them. By him and Sirius, maybe even Lily, Peter and Remus. Certainly Ron and Hermione. It was a miracle that no one had caught them so far. The sound of their feet slapping on the cold, hard floor seemed to be echoing round and round until it was like drum rolls or thunder.

Finally he slid to a halt as the statues bent form loomed into view. As always, she stared at him with her crooked eyes, the grin seeming more like a leer in the pale moonlight. It was quite bright, meaning a full moon must be quite soon. Even as he gasped the password he had to marvel at Moony's strength. He always tended to feel quite ill and weak at the days coming up to a full moon.

Lily was gaping at the hole that concealed the entrance to the secret passageway. "You… you mean you sneak out of school through here?" she asked indignantly, turning to glare at him. "When we get back to school I'm going straight to Professor McGonagall and…"

"LILY!" hissed James, wondering if she ever stopped being a prefect. He still adored her, but at the moment it was more than a little bit annoying, given the situation. "Will you just get in the bloody passageway and stop being yourself for just one second!"

They were the only ones left in the corridor by now. Everyone else had already jumped. Lily's glare quickly diminished and she blushed slightly. "Sorry, of course," she murmured, jumping into the hole. As James followed her, he had a sudden thought, managing to smirk despite the situation. He was still wearing the smirk when he tumbled out into the tunnel a few seconds later. Lily stared at him.

"And you won't report us to McG, because how would you know except by sneaking off grounds with us?"

Lily glared.

~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~

Harry stared at those red orbs, intrigued. They seemed to be the only way to escape the pain he was feeling… except he wasn't feeling any pain anymore. How odd. He turned around and looked behind him at the scenes of death and misery. Even they weren't hurting him anymore. How extremely odd. He distinctly remembered always feeling a stab of misery and remorse when ever these images had popped into his mind before – and he was pretty sure that was where he was now: his mind. He supposed that that was because of the red eyes staring at him. He couldn't remember exactly what they were except they triggered a sort of… happiness? Well, that would make sense. After all, they were shielding him from all the pain and responsibility that usually assaulted him. Maybe…

He took a step forward, towards the red eyes, and instantly two things happened:

Harry was suddenly filled with contented happiness and joy, the presence of the images behind him fading slightly

He felt a searing pain in his hand

Harry stared at his hand, confused. On it was a large slash, red and recent looking. Small amounts of blood dribbled their way out and splashed on the black floor where it sank into it's earthy surface, disappearing. The cut on his hand seemed to mean something to Harry, just as the red eyes had done, but both seemed teasingly out of reach. It was as though a very large part of his life was missing, but he didn't know it. Harry looked up at the red eyes watching him, suddenly much more intense in it's scrutiny of him. Harry suddenly felt wary of these eyes. Red. The colour of Voldemort's. What if this was a Death Eater trap? Voldemort would know he would run away from the images behind him and towards the red eyes. But maybe the hand was a warning.

Harry stepped backwards.

The pain in his hand ceased and then returned as a small, dull ache. The feelings of contentment fled him, but Harry was used to that. If Voldemort was trying to lure him into a trap he should now better than to lure him with feelings of happiness and contentment. Such feelings were as alien for Harry now as they were for the Dark Lord. And it was a strange, extremely fallible trick for the cunning Slytherin. After all, why would Harry run away from the images when he couldn't feel anything about them?

"I will not play this game!" he said out loud, to whoever was listening. He sat stubbornly on the ground, glaring at those red eyes which suddenly radiated menace. Harry just had the time to reflect on how immensely glad he was that he had not carried on forward when the world dissolved into a tempest of whirling colours.

~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~

Lily's indignation at James had completely faded away after two steps. It was fair play and she knew it. Besides, they seemed really, really worried about whatever was going in Hogsmeade with Sirius and… well, him. She was still uncertain how she felt about Harry. Sure she had wanted kids when she was older – what kind of person didn't – but to be presented with a fully formed teenager the same age as her when she completely despised the boy's supposed father? That was a bit much.

She still didn't have a clue what was going on. All she knew was that Harry and Sirius were in Hogsmeade – illegally – about to be attacked by a big monstrous dog that everyone else had taken to calling 'Past'. 'I mean, what is 'Past', anyway?' she thought to herself, skipping over a rock that threatened to trip her up if she didn't pay attention. 'It makes no sense. Maybe Past is a kind of code word, but if it is then it's terrible. I assume they mean that monster but how can that be 'Past'. If it was a species it would be 'a Past' but as a name?' Lily shook her head, frustrated. She was horribly confused.

Putting on an extra burst of speed she caught up with Peter and Remus, Ron, Hermione and James being too far ahead. "Remus, can you please tell me what the Hell is going on?" she asked, in between gasps.

Remus threw her a glance. "We're off to save Harry and Sirius from a demi-God of sorts that is trying to destroy Harry completely and doom the future," he told her, obviously deciding to compress it into as few words as possible. Over his usually pale face he was extremely flushed and next to him Peter was gasping from a nearly purple complexion.

"A demi-God?" Lily exclaimed, stopping with shock. Remus and Peter had shot past her and were almost out of sight in the dark tunnel before she realised what had happened. Remus circled back to collect her but Lily was suddenly aware of the extreme pain in her ankles and her own shortness of breath. When Remus grabbed her arm and lurched her forward it took all of her inner strength to make her legs move again.

"Well, that's the best concept we can come up with for him," Remus explained. James, Hermione and Ron were out of sight completely now and he could only vaguely see Peter. "Because Harry's from the future and is, er, mourning for someone who's alive here, 'Past' has a hold over him and is trying to destroy him. We have to stop him."

Lily went cold at his mention of mourning, but concentrated on other things. "And how exactly are we going to do that?" she asked, wild panic filling her. "I mean, we cannot destroy a demi-God, Remus! And, come on, not even Professor Dumbledore could do anything about it last night! What the hell are we supposed to do?"

Remus face blanched. It was clear that none of them had thought about that. 'I knew I was here for something,' Lily thought to herself, but was too hysterical to feel smug. "Well… we could," started Remus, "I mean maybe if we… er… oh for Merlin's sake, Lily, we've got to try! Maybe if we distract him enough we can get Harry out or something. But we have to try."

Lily did not point out that a demi-God was unlikely to fall for something as trivial as 'distractions' but Remus was right. They had to try. So she gritted her teeth and kept on running.

~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~

Something chuckled to his right. Harry spun around with a half formed notion that Voldemort had decided to stop messing around. But the culprit of the laughter was as far from Voldemort as possible.

Harry watched, mouth dropping, as a grinning young man threw a small, grinning bundle into the air and caught it again, before swooping the giggling bundle around in wide arcs, growling out a fair impression of a broomstick. Sprawled comfortably on the couch, laughing at her husband's antics, was a red haired woman. They were situated in a cosy sitting room, decorated in a pale, pastel yellow, set off by the red couch and drapes. Gryffindor colours. Unmistakable, even when they had been watered down. A fire crackled merrily, silhouetting the two pumpkins with craggily carved faces.

At the sight of those pumpkins, Harry's stomach felt cold. Halloween. This was Halloween. He wasn't too sure why he felt such a surge of horror at the word, 'Halloween'. After all, it was just a harmless holiday. Right?

However, after that initial fear Harry felt nothing, so he dismissed it.

A shriek caught his attention and he turned sharply, fear spiking through him again. But it had been the small child that had shrieked. After being deposited on the floor by the young man, he had immediately begun to crawl across the floor, making for a pile of plastic pumpkins. By the way he had been drooling, Harry suspected that the kid was teething. But the black haired man – who Harry guessed was in his early twenties, barely out of teens – with a wicked gleam in his eyes, had shot a charm at the pumpkins which now ran squeaking every which way to reach the infant's grasping hands. Harry had to laugh himself, as the tot was wearing a look of extreme indignation that his chew toys were all refusing to be chewed.

"James!" protested the woman, half-heartedly, fighting a smirk off her face.

"What?" James asked, throwing her a hurt look. "Gives the pumpkins a bit of a chance – and aren't you usually blathering on about how we should treat innocent creatures with more respect?"

She smiled fondly at him and shook her head. "You idiot."

There was a bawl of triumph and all three of them – Harry included – looked round to find that the kid had finally caught one of the pumpkins and was in the process of sucking it noisily. The little pumpkin was squeaking noisily and the woman wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, James, that's perverse! Take the charm off!"

James did so and both of them leant back into each other's arms, watching the toddler chew happily on his now silent pumpkin. Harry watched them, enjoying the happy scene that was before him. It came to him that he had missed out on something like this in his life and he felt a sense of longing. But the small family was so happy that the feeling didn't last long. He wondered what year it was

The toddler had moved onto another pumpkin by now, the other one discarded and creating a wet patch on the cream carpet. James was softly stroking the woman's arm, deep in thought. Harry looked at James. He seemed familiar to Harry, but Harry couldn't remember if they had met before. James had black hair that stuck up every which way. Harry very much doubted he had ever been able to get it to lay flat. The nest of hair framed a face that had plenty of laughter lines and, more recently, some worry lines. He had a strong chin and hazel eyes, framed by glasses, that seemed a lot older and more stressed than they should be. Besides him, the woman also had the same look in her eyes. She was the complete opposite to James. Where his skin was tanned and brown, hers was an ivory cream. His hair was a black mess, hers was long, red and silky smooth. His eyes were hazel and hers a striking emerald. His lines were strong, hers were delicate. Harry wished he knew her name. It seemed important to him.

Finally, Harry looked at the child. He was staring happily off into space, entirely satisfied with his new toy. It was strange, looking down at the small child. Harry wasn't sure why. It was clearly just a baby. It had inherited the disastrous hair style of James and the remarkable emerald eyes of his mother. In face he looked more like James. He felt vaguely that there should be something else on the child's face. A birthmark perhaps? Then he shook his head, confused. 'Stop being an idiot!'

All this happened in a fraction of a second and then the small child was merely a cute kid in a happy family.

"You know, Lils," James said, eyes still fixed on their son, "I love you. And I love Prongs jr too."

'Prongs', even though an extremely bizarre name, seemed quite familiar to Harry although he was pretty sure it wasn't the infant's name. 'Lils' sounded more like a pet name than the woman's actual one, but it was the best he had.

'Lils' shifted slightly so she could turn towards him, a suspicious look on her face. "Alright, Potter, what do you want?"

Harry laughed quietly as James feigned indignation at her remark. Pouting, he asked, "Why do you assume that I want something if I tell my wife that I love her – which I do," he asked, the act ruined as he leant forward to give her a slow kiss.

"Mmph!" murmured Lils, pushing James away and fixing him with a stern look. "That will not work on me, James. What do you want?"

James cocked an eyebrow innocently at her, but when she didn't budge, he sighed dramatically and moaned, "Alright, I give in! Just don't do the McGonagall look at me!"

Lils snorted. "We've been in the Order for nearly three years and you still call her Professor McGonagall!" she told him. "Just call her Minerva, for Merlin's sake!"

"When you've been in much trouble as I have," James informed her, "you would fear to call Professor McGonagall by her first name as well!"

Lils laughed, but Harry frowned. The name McGonagall also seemed to ring a bell and the Order ran a much bigger one. The way Lils said it, even in passing, made it clear that the Order was a very important. Harry suddenly wondered where he was. He couldn't remember what he was doing last…in fact, he couldn't remember anything except that his name was Harry and this was not happening now – it was a memory of some sorts. He had a faint notion that he should have been quite panicky about this, but all his attention seemed to be focused on the scene playing out in front of him,

Lils, who was about to respond to a sulky looking James, suddenly froze. James looked at her in consternation.

"What is it, Lily?" he asked, hand automatically reaching out for his wand.

"I… don't know," Lily whispered, eyes wide and frightened. They flicked towards the window. "I thought I heard something."

Harry felt his stomach knot in sudden fear. Already the scene had changed and tension wrought the air. What were they so afraid of? Unexplained feelings of anxiety, anticipation and dread flooded him as James cautiously approached the window, wand gripped so hard that his knuckles were white. Behind him, Lily was perched on the end of the red sofa, paler hands also gripping her wand. Prongs jr, oblivious to the mounting tension, gurgled happily from his search for another pumpkin.

James peeked out of the window, eyes scrutinising every part of the outside world that he could see. The tension was unbearable. But then James relaxed and relief visibly washed over Lily and Harry too. "There's nothing over there. It must have been your imagination, Lily." He gave a short, nervous and utterly unconvincing laugh. "Besides, Peter'll never betray us."

Lily nodded, comforted slightly, but still troubled. James crossed back over to the couch but the easy feel of earlier had gone. Both of them were lost in their thoughts. Prongs jr. had found a chocolate frog somewhere and was munching happily on the chocolate. Harry was actually very impressed with the youngster, for none of the sticky brown substance was framing his mouth. Hence, mum and dad would never know about his secret midnight munchies.

Over on the couch, Lily spoke. Her tone was quite light, but from the tension of her shoulders both Harry and James knew that this was quite important. "You do realise that if Peter does betray us, James," she said, putting a finger on James' lips when he tried to protest, "all the blame will go on Sirius. Peter will go free."

"I know Peter won't betray us," James said, firmly.

Lily shifted, as though to stop herself from sighing in exasperation. "I know you do, James, but we know one of us is the spy," she reminded him gently. "What if we were wrong and it wasn't Remus? We should have at least told Dumbledore, James."

"He might have let it slip," James pointed out, although he looked a little unsure.

Lily looked even more unsure, but she didn't say anything. James, though, felt he had to do more to defend his friend. "Peter won't betray us. He may be a bit of a coward at time, but his heart's in the right place. Besides, Sirius is taking the heat off of him. Peter shouldn't have to deal with any Death Eaters at all. And Sirius is going to check up on him."

Lily was silent after this speech and both tried to regain the sense of calm they had earlier. Harry tried to piece together all he had heard to try and make sense of it all. 'Right, as far as I can tell, Lily and James are hiding from someone – Death Eaters? – and only this Peter knows where they are. Another friend, Sirius, is pretending to be the only who knows to keep the heat of Peter's back, but no one else knows about the switch, not even this 'Dumbledore' guy – Harry here had a distinct impression of lemon sherbets – and Lily is worried that they should have told Dumbledore the truth in case Peter does betray them.' Harry thought about that for a moment. 'Well, I agree with Lily,' he thought, rather indignantly. 'Even if this Peter is unlikely to betray them, it's going to be really traumatic for this Sirius guy.'

Suddenly, was a clatter from outside. Harry, James and Lily all froze, horror filling their faces. Harry, although he didn't know what Death Eaters were, he could see enough in their eyes to know they weren't good. Lily and James both stood and Harry thought he was going to be sick. He kept telling himself that it was a just a memory, it was just a memory, but it didn't make a difference. It was still real.

James suddenly turned around, fear in his eyes. "Lily, take Harry and go! It's Him!" Lily stared at him, tears pooling in her eyes, mouth open wide. She made no move to go. "Go! Run! I'll hold him off – "

Lily murmured something that sounded a bit like "James" before she dashed over to where Prongs jr had stopped from his munching to look up at his parents. Scooping him up in her arms she dashed out of the room, shooting her husband one last teary look. Harry, too, felt tears well in his eyes. This wasn't right – they were so nice and they didn't deserve to die. And Harry knew that they were about to die. It was in the way James said 'Him'. There could be no escape.

James stood straight and proud, facing the door, wand clenched and held in a duelling position. If Harry had not seen the terror in his eyes a moment ago, he would have thought that James had no fear of the monster that was about to enter his house. Eyes fixed on the door, Harry heard James murmur, "I'm sorry, Sirius" before the door burst open and He stepped through the door.

Harry recoiled in horror. It surely had to be a demon, for what man had ever had such a white face, the slitted nostrils of a snake or eyes that evil red? His black cloak seemed to swirl around him like a menacing cloud and his black hair made him look like the grim reaper. He stood tall and menacing over the still strong figure of James Potter whose arm wand was steady and face was set. 'It's the face of someone about to die,' thought Harry, small tears forming and falling down his cheeks. He felt honoured, in a way, that he had been able to witness James Potter's last moments. 'However traumatic and horrifying it will be, someone should witness his courage in the face of death.'

"Well, well, well, James Potter," He said, voice as silky and snakelike as his face suggested. "We finally meet. I give you greetings from your friend Wormtail. I thought it would please you to know just how eager he was to present you as a present to his Lord."

Harry felt an overwhelming surge of hatred for Peter – who he assumed was who He meant by Wormtail – but was surprised to see the anger from James' face fade after an instant. 'Instead, is he looking sorry for Peter?' Harry thought incredulously. 'What is the matter with him?'

However, James didn't say anything and it was clear He didn't like being ignored. He snarled and said, "Goodbye, Potter. But don't worry, your mudblood wife and son will join you soon." And he raised his wand and spoke, "Avada Kedrava!"

A jet of green light shot out towards James, but he dodged and the curse instead hit a photo on the wall. Time seemed to be slowing down for Harry and even before it disintegrated he could see that it was a picture of James, Lily and three other men, all smiling and laughing. In the middle was Prongs jr, who was clapping his hands merrily. Harry thought it was quite poignant that this had been what Voldemort's spell had hit as this betrayal of Peter would destroy their lives forever. As it disappeared into oblivion, Harry wished heartily that he knew which one Peter was so he could fix him in his memory and identify him to the authorities whenever he had the chance. Someone should pay for what he had done to this family.

All this had taken less than a second and already James was yelling out a spell. "Inflammare!"

A beam of white hot flames sped towards He who froze them all with a mere swish of his hand. He had failed to notice, however, the much darker spell that James had sent after the fire charm and His sleeves were suddenly slashed open, dark blood – closer to black than red in colour – splashed out and marked the cream carpet. He growled again and sent another killing curse.

A green jet which James didn't manage to dodge.

Harry watched, horrified and screaming, as James Potter fell to the ground, eyes wide open, still with that look of mingled determination and fear evident in them. His mouth was set into a grim, determined line and his lifeless arm dropped the wand. As He gave a high pitched cackle, Harry watched that wand roll away from James, tears blurring his vision. James shouldn't have died. It wasn't fair. But then, since when was life fair? And this was a memory. There was nothing Harry could do about it… except remember.

'Remember? Oh shit! Lily and Prongs jr.!' Harry thought, turning around and dashing up the stairs in front of Him, who was gliding with a triumphant and determined air. His only thoughts were with Lily and the baby – had they managed to escape? 'Oh, please, Merlin, say they're not here!"

But they were, Lily cradling her son, tears streaming down her face. Harry wanted to yell at them to do something, but what could they do? Harry watched, crying, as Lily kissed the top of Prongs jr.s head and set him down in a cot, whispering to him that he was going to be alright. Prongs jr. didn't look too happy. He had a pouting chin and he was looking confused. Lily straightened herself up as the slow steps came nearer and nearer, turning to face the door and trying to hide Harry from the doorway. She was trying not to sob, but the tears were flowing faster and thicker than before.

The door opened.

Before He could put one step in the room, she was already talking to him. "Please! Not Harry!" she begged, as He levelled his wand at her, looking very annoyed at her interference. "Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything – "

"Stand aside – stand aside, girl," He snapped, trying to see past her into the crib.

"No!" Lily cried, defiant through her tears. "Just don't – please!"

But He didn't listen to reason. If something was in His way, He disposed of it. Harry shut his eyes as green light shot out of His wand. He didn't want to see her die, too. Not when she was throwing herself at His mercy. Not when she was trying to save her innocent son. Harry had an overwhelming surge of hatred towards Him. How could He? How could He just kill her, as though she were an annoying fly? When she was pouring out her heart?

But He seemed to have no heart, as he turned towards the infant who was staring at him mother in shock. Lily's face was still wet with tears, mouth half open with another plea. Her red hair was arranged like a halo above her face and her eyes were just as glassy and unseeing as James' downstairs. Prongs jr. was beginning to cry now and it just broke Harry's heart. Prongs jr. looked up at Him, who was grinning delightedly.

"Tonight," He whispered to the child, "history is made."

Green light shot out of his wand.

And bounced back of Prongs jr.s forehead to strike Him in the chest.

He gave a horrified, inhuman screech and disappeared in a world of green flame. Harry jumped back in horror and amazement, as He disappeared into oblivion. He had met his match in a little baby! It was incredible – but it was justice. He stared at Prongs jr. who was crying still. He now had a small, lightning shaped scar in the middle of his forehead.

As the scene began to swirl in a myriad of colours, Harry watched that little scar blur out of sight. It was only then that he realised Prongs jr.s name was Harry, too.

~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~