A/N- LoL, I have not written on this story in AGES!! Also, ignore the typos cuz i didn't feel like checking it over. OK, so it's not going to be the last chapter cuz I thought it was too confusing without another bit of explanation. lol. Well, Enjoy!
:-)

Harry's eyes widened with shock. This could not be, for Taylor was just a dream, a figment of his imagination. But she was not, and Taylor was taking small steps towards him.

"Just listen to me, Harry," she whispered, and Harry suddenly knew that she was not here to harm him, but protect him. What she was protecting him from he did not know, and he did not care at the moment.

"Are.... are you....dead," Harry asked, his voice quiverring.

Taylor smiled and replied, "No, I am not dead, but I am not alive. In fact, I..." she trailed off.

This confused Harry even more than before. How can someone be neither alive or dead? He thought. You have to be one or the other. Unless...

"Are you a dream?" Harry asked.

"Uh... yes.... yes I am," she replied. "How can this be? Oh, yes, I can read your mind, Harry. I am your creation. You do not control me, however, and this is where i show you the way to complete your past and show you the future..."

A bright white light blinded Harry, and when he could see his surroundings again, he was in a different room... a dark, dingy, musty room that looked like the attic of an old antique house. Again, he seemed to be watching a memory, but he kept hidden because he remembered of the last time he was in a memory.

Suddenly, the creaks of footsteps on an old wooden floor came to Harry's ears. The door on the other side of the small room cluttered with boxes opened, and a girl, a younger Taylor, stepped through it.

"Neat!" the 11- year old Taylor cried, and ran straight to a bright blue box with faded yellow stripes on it. It had the word past written on it, and she carefully opened the lid. The lid squeaked, and in the box were hundreds of photo albums among other things, like letters and official documents. On the top was the most beautiful album, in fine blue leather and fancy writing on it that said family on the top. Taylor picked it out of the dusty box and opened to the first picture. Harry crawled over to look at the book, too.

They flipped through the pages, labeled "Dora and William's marriage" and "Kristie with Janie". Old, wizarding photographs smiled back at Taylor and the invisible Harry, and Harry could not help but to smile back. Finally, they turned to a picture where a man and a woman holding a baby boy, with a tall, skinny, young man next to them. The caption read, "Marie and Lewis holding baby James with Uncle Tom". Harry had heard of those names before, but they didn't make sense..... who were these people? Marie? Lewis? Tom? Baby James?

Suddenly, the man who must have been Uncle Tom, looked up at Taylor and Harry and pulled out a wand, grinning evilly. Taylor started to scream and hold her head in agony, trying to close the book. Harry looked at her, and he also soon felt a burin and started to scream in pain. It felt like an invisible person was putting a knife that is on fire on his scar; it was worse than the Cruciatus Curse.

After what felt like hours, the pain suddenly ceased. Harry stood up, feeling like he just woke up from a deep sleep, refreshed and energetic, but Taylor fell down in a faint next to him. There was an echoing voice that rang out, "Stay away Taylor... taylor....taylor...." It was the same voice that he had heard in the other dream, the fierce, cold one.

Harry just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. He just wanted to be lying in his nice, warm bed, in his nice, cheerful common room, where he felt safe.

"Taylor? Taylor? I want to get out of here! Just leave me alone!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, and he closed his eyes, wishing. When he opened them, he was not in the attic anymore, but he was not in the Gryffindor Common Room. He was in a big, empty ballroom, where the ceiling was twenty feet over his head. It was dark, and there was no decor or furniture except for one, beautiful antique chair, which was occupied. The back of the chair was facing Harry, so all of the person he could see was the head. The person was silent and not moving, and Harry first thought the person was sleeping. Suddenly, though, the door at the end of the ballroom opened.

Harry did not like the ballroom, for he felt vulnerable because he could not hide behind anything. He looked at who was at the door, in fear, but... surprisingly... his father walked through the door.

Harry ran up to him, hoping he could see him here, but, sadly, he could not. He was so disappointed that he felt like crying, but he watched what was happening in the memory.

"What do you want to see me for, Taylor?" asked James, politely, to the firl sitting in the chair. It was Taylor, who looked around the age she was when Harry first saw her.

"I wanted to see you about my grandpa. He's changed. I can see what he's doing. Remember? I can see the future and the past. Grandpa isn't the same guy you think he is. He was doing something, doing something bad, and it started a long time ago, when he was still in school! He got followers, and now he's going to do baaaaaad stuff to people," replied Taylor. Harry's father just shook his head.

"Don't give me this foolishness, Taylor. I have a date with Lily tonight, I think I'm going to give her the ring tonight, if I don't lose my nerve. I don't want to worry about this. I told you, my Uncle Tom is not a bad man. Yes, I am speaking of Tom Riddle," Harry's father said.

"Please, listen to me! Listen to me, Uncle James!" she shouted back, having it echo in the huge ballroom.

Uncle James. Uncle? Uncle? Harry thought. How could this be? If he's Taylor's uncle, then she's my... cousin... and that makes Tom Riddle, who's Voldemort, my... Harry gulped at the thought, Voldemort's my uncle.