The One Who Time Forgot

For Jessica, who became my muse.

Present Day

In the harsh light of pre-dawn, a cloaked figure peered across Privet Drive and into the windows of one particularly well-manicured house. The perfectly normal green lawn, and perfectly normal clean company car in the driveway could not disguise one occupant from the shadowed figure's attention.

She knew he was there, Dumbledore had told her where she could find him. It had been sixteen years since last she had seen him, the Boy Who Lived. She had heard of all he had done. The son of James Potter had faced the Dark Lord five times and escaped not only with his life, but with the lives of his friends. He was brave, she knew this much. He was like his father.

Anna Bree Mourgan, her dark hair pulled tight in a ponytail and concealed in the hood of her cloak, laughed. She could remember James well, both a blessing and a curse. She had known him, the same as she had known Lily. She had fought with the Order, and died with the Order. Although, that was an impossibility for clearly she stood there, very much alive, watching the skinny figure moving about in the upstairs bedroom of Number Four, Privet Drive.

Harry Potter threw back the curtain in front of his window and pulled it open to allow the snowy owl to fly in with the morning mail. He was unaware of the figure who hid in the bushes across the street, watching him.

He looks so much like James, Anna Bree thought longingly as the boy disappeared again.