Disclaimer: I am getting really tired of writing these. How many times do I need to proclaim to the world that I don't own Harry Potter? And, do people actually read these? I wonder if I wrote out the Star Spangled Banner, someone would notice...

A/N: Yeah, I know, this took forever to get out.

Chapter Fifteen-To dream or not to dream, that is the question.

It wasn't until the visiting hours of St. Mungo's had officially ended that Harry returned to the Burrow with the Weasleys and Hermione. He had found it very hard to say goodbye to Sirius, even though it was only for one night, because he kept on having the nagging worry that something could happen to his godfather over the night. In fact, Sirius had felt the same way about Harry.

As Harry had left Sirius's room when the nurse had kicked him out, closing the now repaired door behind himself after giving a wave and a rather forced smile, Sirius had felt a strange feeling of foreboding. Biting the edge of his lip nervously as he watched Harry leave, he felt unecessarily anxious, and he didn't know why. It was the kind of apprehension that someone usually felt before something big happened to them, the tugging sensation in the pit of the stomach, making someone want to turn back time so the upcoming event would never occurr. Whenever Sirius felt like this, he usually knew the cause of the feeling, but in this case he didn't-and that fact unnerved him even more.

Harry, however, wasn't dreading some unknown event, but just had a persisting worry for Sirius. He managed to put that worry aside, though, in the drive back to the Burrow, which was so unlike the drive from the Burrow that it was startling. In contrast to the ride to St. Mungo's-which was very tense and quiet-this ride was loud and, for lack of a better word, fun. Fred and George were being their very rambunctious selves with Harry and Ron joining in the fun. Even the usually quiet Ginny got involved in all the noisemaking, blushing furiously as Harry playfully threw one of the twin's trick-wands-turned-into-teddy-bears at her. Then, both Ron and Harry threw a bunch of the teddy bears at Hermione, who shrieked and covered her face with her arms-partially hiding a smile.

Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat up front, smiling to themselves, quietly recognizing Harry's need to be a normal teenager for once, and for the rest of the kids to let off some steam after the long day in the hospital.

When they reached the Burrow, no one felt like going to bed immediately. Everyone was either too sugar high or silently worrying about the next day. Nevertheless, they all went to bed shortly after they arrived, finally feeling the effects of the long day. As they got into bed, everyone was asking themselves questions such as, What if Colette doesn't become minister? Or What will happen to Sirius if she doesn't? No one voiced these questions aloud, though, and everyone went off, exhausted, to bed.

Too tired to even take off his clothes and put on pajamas, Harry half climbed into, half fell into the mattress Mrs. Weasley had made up for him on the floor of Ron's room. He could hardly believe the events of the day, which was easily one of the longest feeling days of his life. If Harry had gone to bed less sleepy than he did, he wouldn't have fallen asleep very quickly-but he was dead tired and, as all worries about Sirius were pushed from his mind, it only took a few minutes for his heavy breathing to fill the room. As he lay on his side, he didn't even care that Fred and George's trick wands were still in his pants pocket and were cutting into his ribs. Breathing deeply, Harry dropped off to sleep.



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"M-master?" Peter Pettigrew whispered nervously. "How are we going to do this?"

"I am going to set your Time Turner, and mine," Voldemort replied slowly, his eyes glinting in the darkness. "I am going to go back to Halloween, 1981. You are going to follow me precisely an hour after I leave, after I have found my old self and informed him what was about to happen that night. Then, together, the two of us are going to kill all three of the Potters. Two heads are always better than one."

Pettigrew looked up at Voldemort as he set the two Time Turners for that specific date and time. As his master handed him his Time Turner, Pettigrew felt a nagging worry. There was something wrong with this plan. "But, Master, what about the boy?"

"What about him?" His master snarled, suddenly standing up straighter and looming over the small man. It made Pettigrew feel very threatened and frightened, and he unwillingly shrank back. "I-I mean, can you k-kill him?"

Voldemort brought his face very close to Pettigrew's, his features expressionless. "Are you doubting my power, Wormtail?" He asked softly, in a perfectly calm voice.

"N-no!" Pettigrew sputtered, eyes wild with fear, trembling violently in the dark. "I was just-y-you couldn't kill him l-last time, so I was m- merely-"

"You are merely being a nuisance, Wormtail," Voldemort said, his voice still perfectly steady and calm. "Last time I tried to kill him, he had a wand. Unless I'm greatly mistaken, babies don't have wands. And the time before that, I wasn't expecting that I could be almost destroyed by a little baby. Do you think I knew that that little child would destroy all of my powers?"

Pettigrew shook his head violently, habit making him reach out his left hand to clutch at his silver right hand in fear.

"But now, I will know what to expect," Voldemort said softly. Suddenly, he swiftly moved away from Pettigrew and stood up, looking taller and more powerful than Pettigrew had ever seen him. The small man shuddered and shrank back again, but his master took no notice. At this point, he seemed to be talking to himself more than Pettigrew.

"And two times me will certainly be enough to kill James and that little baby! And, of course, with your help, Wormtail."

"What am I going to do, Master?" Pettigrew asked, not entirely sure that he wanted to know.

"You, Wormtail, are going to lead the Potters astray. Go and visit them, perhaps. Make sure that they're very unsuspecting when myself and I come in. Keep their guard down. Act as if you're still friends." Voldemort spat out the last word, and Pettigrew suddenly found that he was feeling slightly sick.

"You, my little piece of filth, are going to play the key role in this plan. If you succeed, everything will have worked and I rule the magical world!" Voldemort suddenly let out a burst of cruel laughter, and Pettigrew jumped. "But if you fail."

Voldemort's voice trailed off. Pettigrew watched him, frowning slightly.

"If you fail."

"W-what will happen if I f-fail, Master?" Pettigrew asked carefully, although he couldn't keep his voice from shaking.

"Oh, you don't want to fail, Wormtail. For your own sake, you don't want to fail."

Pettigrew shuddered and shrank back into the shadows of the abandoned barn in Godric's Hollow near where the Potters had once lived, as his master let out battle-like cry, swinging the Time Turner over his head and disappearing into the darkness. Voldemort had gone back to 1981, and, quite suddenly, Pettigrew found that he was alone.

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Harry was having a dream. In his dream, he was standing in the entrance of some sort of large, dark room. In the corner of the room was Peter Pettigrew. Harry immediately knew that something was going on, although he didn't know what. Slipping back into the shadows, Harry watched Pettigrew carefully. He seemed to be fingering something in his hands. Every once in a while, he appeared to be looking at this watch. Squinting into the darkness, Harry tried to make out what it was in his hand, but he couldn't see it. Stepping forward, Harry tried to see what it was.

It was a Time Turner!

Suppressing a gasp of surprise, Harry bit the inside of his cheeks, his eyes wide. What was Pettigrew doing with a Time Turner? Even in this dreamlike state, Harry knew that this wasn't good. Somehow, he had to get the Time Turner from him.

Harry quickly thought about how he was going to about with this. If he jumped at Pettigrew from behind, then he might be able to knock him out and get the Time Turner away from him.

Harry didn't even stop to consider the fact that Pettigrew might have a wand, or he might not really be alone, or that he had a silver hand, or to remember that this was, after all, a dream-all he did was muster up his courage and pounce at Pettigrew from behind.

Although Harry was small and skinny and Pettigrew larger-around the middle, anyway-Harry had the advantage of surprise, and was able to shock the man into a state where he had no idea what was going on.

"What the.!" Pettigrew yelled, trying to throw Harry off of him. But Harry held onto the man tight and, with strength he didn't know he possessed, pushed him down, banging his head against the floor and knocking him out.

Harry rolled off of Pettigrew, panting heavily. There, lying on the ground next to Pettigrew's hand, was the Time Turner.

On a sudden impulse that Harry was unable to explain the meaning of, he suddenly picked up the Time Turner, and-without a moment of hesitation- put it around his neck.

Harry's eyes snapped open as he woke up on the mattress on the floor of Ron's room in the Burrow. He didn't remember his dream at all, only remembering that he had had one. He felt something wrapped around his neck and, still half asleep, pulled the whatever-it-was over his head and clutched it in his hand under the blankets. Closing his eyes, Harry turned over onto his back, trying to slip back into sleep. What he failed to notice, before he dozed off, was that in his hand was a Time Turner-a Time Turner which, in his sleep, he let go of, and it fell to the floor. A very specific Time Turner. A Time Turner that had just been around his neck, and was set for Halloween, 1981.

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He woke up. Harry quickly opened his eyes, startled to find that one second he had been lying on a mattress on the floor of Ron's room, and the next he was lying on a cold wooden floor. When he opened his eyes all he saw was blackness, and he blinked several times, just to make sure that his eyes were really open. Frowning slightly at the remaining darkness, he came to the conclusion that he must have fallen off the mattress in his sleep and bumped his head on the floor. Yeah, that must be it...

And so Harry reached out his hand to his left side, expecting to hit the blankets or his pillow, but instead his hand hit nothing at all. Heart pounding, he groped for the mattress, and gulped as his hand slapped the cold floor.

Maybe he had fallen off the other side of the mattress...

He reached out to his right side, looking blindly for anything that would assure him that he was in Ron's room, but he touched nothing except the cool air. His hand dropped limply to the floor.

Harry swallowed again, very hard this time. He could feel the familiar warning bells stirring in him, the warning bells that signaled the adrenaline kicking in and the beginnings of panic. He struggled to calm down, taking a deep breath.

Maybe he was dreaming. That was it, dreaming...

Harry sat up, looking around into the darkness, trying to convince himself that this was, indeed, a dream. He tried to get a sense of where he was. He had the feeling that he was in a large open space, with a wooden floor, completely exposed and helpless. Even if this was a dream, he didn't like the feeling of total blindness that he was getting.

Harry got shakily to his feet, shivering in his jeans and old, thin T- shirt of Dudley's, wondering dimly if you feel cold while in a dream. Shaking his head, he tried to organize his thoughts. He knew there must be a wall somewhere, because he couldn't just be in a place that had no walls, and went on forever. But then again, if this was a dream, anything was possible.

Harry didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.

Deciding to try and find a wall anyway, and maybe find the reason that he was here in this dream world, Harry began to walk forward, hating the feeling of blindness and helplessness.

He soon found that he wasn't in that large of a room at all, but it only seemed that way because it was large and cold and completely empty. After a minute or so of walking blind in the darkness, he painfully banged his elbow against a wall. He followed the wall with his hands until-here, there was a crack in the wall, here, it's a door-

Harry moved his hands carefully down the crack until his right hand found a doorknob.

"Yes!" He muttered excitedly, quickly turned the knob, and threw himself outside.

Harry stared. He seemed to be somewhere on the side of a dirt road. On either side of the road were trees, like a forest. He frowned as he looked around, trying to figure out where he was-then he remembered that he had just left a building of some sort, and he jogged out into the middle of the dirt road so he could get a better look at it.

Once again, Harry stared. It appeared that he had been in an old barn of some sort. It was very run down-the paint was peeling, the windows on the second floor were broken, and it looked as if some of the roof had caved in- but it was still, unmistakably, a barn.

"This is the strangest dream I've ever had," Harry muttered, frowning and scratching the back of his neck in bewilderment. He looked up and down the dirt road, searching for any sign of civilization, or any sign of anything, for that matter-and was surprised to see that a little farther down the road, up a steep hill, there was a sign. Literally, a sign posted on the side of the road.

Harry couldn't read what it said from where he stood, and plus, the light was fading in the gathering dark-the sky was turning orange. He was certainly curious to know-besides, he was in a dream world. What was there to lose?

So he started to jog up the hill, but stopped jogging halfway. The hill had become very steep, and it was very hard to jog up. He began to walk, his breath coming in short gasps now, and his legs were burning. Finally, he reached the top of the hill and collapsed onto the grass at the side of the road near where the sign was.

He took a moment to catch his breath before looking up at the sign and reading what it said. When he did, though, he gave a small intake of air, and his mouth dropped open.

Welcome to Godric's Hollow! The sign proclaimed cheerily.

Harry couldn't believe what he was reading. Wasn't Godric's Hollow the place that he had lived with his parents before they had died? How on Earth could he have gotten there?

This is a dream world, he reminded himself firmly. I can go anywhere in a dream world.

But Harry's gut feeling was beginning to kick in. It was the same feeling that had told him something was wrong when he had seen Quirrel in front of the Mirror of Erised, Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets, and when Moody/Crouch had brought Harry up to his office after the third task only a month before. The same feeling that had told Harry something was wrong with Pettigrew in the Shrieking Shack. The same feeling that had told Harry that Sirius was telling the truth that same night.

And right now, the feeling was telling him that this was no dream.

Harry got to his feet and stood at the crest of the hill, staring down into the town of Godric's Hollow. It was a small town, sparsely populated on the outskirts (near where Harry was), but it obviously had some sort of town square in the center, which Harry could see was bustling with people.

As he stood on the top of the hill looking over the town, Harry wondered what he should do. He kept on telling himself that this was a dream, but he knew in his heart that this was no dream.

Suddenly, the full impact of what he had just thought hit him forcefully as he began to accept that this was, indeed, no dream. But if this wasn't a dream, then what was it?

Harry tried to think of reasons for his being here, and how he got there in the first place. He couldn't remember ever studying any circumstances like these at all at Hogwarts, or anytime in his life, as a matter of fact. Finally, after standing there for several minutes, Harry came to four conclusions: 1) He was in some sort of alternate dimension, 2) He had traveled through time, 3) He had somehow been transported to Godric's Hollow, though in the same time as his own, 4) or-as he fervently hoped- this was a dream.

He quickly ruled out conclusions three and four. He couldn't have been transported to Godric's Hollow while being in the same time period, because it had been night when he had gone to sleep at the Burrow, and here the sun was just beginning to set. Number four, well...Harry forced himself to accept the fact-as ludicrous as it may be-that he wasn't dreaming.

But when he thought about it, the other two conclusions didn't seem that probable either-how on Earth could he have gotten into an alternate dimension? And, how could he have traveled through time when he didn't have a Time Turner?

Harry still couldn't remember his previous dream.

Maybe, he thought dully. I really did fall of the mattress and I hit my head on Ron's floor. And now I have a concussion. And now I'm hallucinating. And then they're going to put me in St. Mungo's. Maybe they'll put me in a room near Sirius.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

Sighing, Harry began to make his way down the hill and into Godric's Hollow.

Nearly twenty minutes later, when Harry had long reached the bottom of the hill and walked through the outskirts of the town, he found himself in the very center of Godric's Hollow. There seemed to be a sort of festive atmosphere about, though Harry couldn't quite put his finger on its cause. Everybody he saw seemed to be very excited about something, and Harry found himself frowning in confusion. What was going on?

He shivered suddenly, and not just because he was cold, but because he suddenly wanted nothing more than to be out of this dream place, or whatever it was.

It was only then that Harry noticed how chilly it was. Rubbing his hands together and suppressing another shiver, it occurred to Harry that maybe, wherever he was, it wasn't summer. It certainly didn't seem like it-it wasn't just the weather, but the amount of leaves on the ground and color of the leaves on the trees-orange and red and gold, for the most part-made Harry think that he must be a good way into autumn. Maybe it was October, or November, perhaps.

Harry stood in front of a diner of some sort, looking around nervously. Not for the first time that evening-for it was obviously evening, as the setting sun told him-he wondered what he was doing there. Then another thought occurred to him: Where was Godric's Hollow? He knew it had to be somewhere in the country, but as to where.and also, when was it? It had surely been July when he had fallen asleep at the Burrow, but it was obviously not July now. Harry was extremely confused.

And confused wasn't the only thing that he felt. Harry noticed with distaste as his stomach began to growl. He suddenly remembered that he hadn't really had a dinner that night.

"Great," Harry muttered. "Bloody body. You just love to pick the best times to make me hungry, don't you?"

He reached into his jeans pocket, expecting to find nothing but Fred and George's trick wands there, and was very surprised to see that he had quite a few pounds.

Harry stared at the money in his hand. "Where on Earth did you come from?" He murmered. But now was no time to speculate. He was getting very hungry, dream world or not. He could go into the diner that he was standing in front of, get a little food, and maybe find out what the date was.

So Harry turned around and pushed open the diner's door.

It was a small diner, but very comfortable and homely looking, with little bells on the top of the door jingling as Harry opened it. It reminded him of a diner that he had been to once with Aunt Petunia and Dudley when he was little. Aunt Petunia and Dudley hadn't really wanted to take Harry to the diner, but they had had no choice that day and he had ended up coming along.

Harry walked over to the counter, looking around for a menu or something. After spotting a pile on the corner of the counter and picking one up, Harry picked it up and flipped through, while at the same time looking around the diner for a waiter or someone whom he could ask the date.

Then he spotted a waiter over at the other end of the diner. He was young, not looking much older than Harry. He walked over to him.

"Excuse me?" Harry said politely. The waiter looked up at him from where he had been wrapping silverware in napkins. "Do you know what the date is?"

The waiter gave him a strange look. "Ya don't know what day it is, mate?"

A little intimidated by the boy's strange look and his Cockney-ish accent, Harry slowly shook his head.

"It's October 31st. Halloween, bud," He nodded his head over to where Harry noticed a calendar was hanging on the wall behind the counter. "Don't ya know?"

Harry backed away from him, not answering, his head spinning. Halloween? Halloween?

He quickly walked over to the counter and dropped the menu down on top of it, all thoughts of food gone from his head. He looked at the calendar behind the counter and saw that it did, indeed, say October 31st. Harry's eyes strayed across it, heart pounding. Then he read what year it was, and nearly passed out.

1981?

How could it be 1981? Harry was one hundred percent positive that it was not 1981, it was 1995. But that wasn't what was bothering him.

1981. October 31st, Halloween. 1981. He knew that date.he knew that date.

"Excuse me," Said a female voice from behind him. Dumbly, Harry moved to the side without a second thought. His mind was buzzing, and he wasn't able to focus on anything, until.

"Thanks," The young woman said as she placed her menu on the counter. Harry didn't answer her, just nodded absentmindedly. 1981.1981.

"Come on, James, we'd better get a move on!" The young woman called out to someone across the diner. Harry's breath caught in his throat, and the world spun.

James???

Hearing the jangling bells that signaled the door to the diner was being opened, Harry whirled around to face it, mouth hanging open to below his knees. He turned around just in time to see a young woman and a flash of red hair leave the diner, with the door closing behind her.





A/N: Yeah, I know, a cliffhanger! Sorry, everyone.

Man, I really hope this two and a half week space between chapters really isn't becoming a habit. I don't like it, and you guys certainly don't like it.grr I have come to the conclusion that all homework is the spawn of Satan. Grr.

Does Harry seem.believable in this chapter? I'm not quite sure, cause I had a heck of a time writing this, I can tell you that much. I had to rewrite the whole first half because I totally messed something up, and I kept changing things around because Harry's emotions didn't feel right. And also, did this chapter make any sense? It was pretty key, so I hope so! This was one of the harder chapters to write, definitely.

So were getting to a bit of a climax here, eh? I hope I can get the next chapter out soon.just think of it as there being a commercial right after a really exciting part of a TV show.well, you guys are really lucky this chapter is the length that it is. I was going to end it when Harry began to walk towards Godric's Hollow and just get it out to you guys, but I knew it would be too short.

Is the name of the chapter too stupid? I dunno, I was trying to think of a chapter name, and I thought it was kinda funny. Though it is cheesy in a way. Oh, well.

What happened to all those reviewers I once had? Are you guys still reading the story? You've all disappeared.WeasleyTwinsLover1112, Abby, wellduh., Lily of the Valley.

On a totally different note, did you guys hear about how Richard Harris-the actor who played Dumbledore in the HP movies-died of cancer on Friday? Aw, it's so sad, he was only seventy-two.

Anyways, onto the reviews.

Alexa Black: Only the beginning, huh? Man, are you right, as you certainly know by now! Only the beginning.that very much hits home.

Celestial princess: Yay! I'm glad that you liked it! I certainly did.when did you make that comment about Fudge breaking down the door, in like the 5th chapter or something? Heck, it was a good idea! I made it very obvious so you would notice it.

Whap Fudge away, Dena! I don't have any objections! Hmm.that's an interesting idea.maybe you should write a story about it? But there'd have to be a really good reason why Fudge was for Voldemort, etc-though it would certainly be unique!

P: Ack, I still haven't decided! I don't think in this story, though, but maybe in another.

Yuffie-Girl: Fudge? Go without a fight? HA! This oughta be interesting, huh? Yeah, Remus rocks! Go Remus, go Remus, go go, go Remus.k I've had WAY too much sugar today.

Ashes: Wow thanks a lot! I love it when I get new reviewers. ( Kept you on the edge of your seat? Really? Well, your comment specifically made me rethink the genre setting, and I'm changing it from Drama/General to Drama/Suspense. It really has gotten suspensful, huh?

I like it when Harry and Sirius bond, too. I love reading those fics so much that I decided to write one of my own, thought, that wasn't the only inspiration for this.

Adios, amigos!