Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and that's all there is to it.

A/N: Yep, I'm alive. Nope, I haven't died. Midterms are over! Hurray! And to everyone in the U.S., happy belated Thanksgiving! Also, can someone please tell me why when I put things in italics or bold, it will turn up on FanFiction.Net normal, and why whenever I do the three little dot things they come out as periods? Grr...I'm trying to fix it...

Chapter Sixteen-Hiding in the Shadows

"One way, or another, I'm gonna find ya, I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha getcha..." --Debbie Harry

Ron woke up at exactly 7:00 the next morning. As soon as he glanced at the clock on the wall and saw what time it was, he smiled. Perfect, he thought. An hour and a half before visiting hours at St. Mungo's start.

Rubbing his eyes and noting happily that he felt quite rested, he sat up in bed and stretched his arms high above his head, giving a small grunt of satisfaction as he loosened his muscles. Feeling in a considerably better mood than he had this time yesterday, he swung his legs over his bed, calling over his shoulder to the mattress where he knew Harry lay.

"Hey, Harry, get up, mate!" He yelled. "Rise and shine!" He walked over to his dresser, opened up three drawers at once, and started carelessly tossing clothes across the room that he didn't want to wear.

After a moment of digging through his clothes and still receiving no response from his friend, he reached into his top drawer and pulled out a pair of maroon colored socks that his mother had made him, preparing to throw them at Harry's head in an attempt to get him up.

He turned around to face Harry's mattress, with his hand holding the socks raised into the air and ready to throw, but he stopped as he saw that the mattress was empty.

Ron slowly lowered his hand, staring at the mattress. Of course! Harry must have gotten up already! It occurred to Ron that his friend had probably had a harder time sleeping than he had. Shrugging and dropping the socks again into the drawer, he quickly got dressed, throwing on some Muggle clothes. They would be traveling in London, after all.

Walking out of his room and down the several flights of stairs to the ground level of the Burrow, Ron walked into the kitchen and saw his parents and Ginny. He opened his mouth to ask where Harry was, but closed it again as they all seemed very distracted. Mrs. Weasley was not only frying eggs, but was also yelling something at Mr. Weasley, calling to Ginny to put something in the car, and hollering at the top of her lungs for the twins to stop being stupid. Ron was confused for a moment because the twins weren't even in the kitchen, but then started in surprise as George came running straight toward him out of no where. Before he could react, there was a short bump against his back, and he stumbled into the kitchen as Fred came running in from the opposite direction.

Grumbling, he was just about to ask someone where Harry was when Ginny suddenly ran out of the kitchen, bumping into Ron as she went and knocking him into the counter.

"Sorry!" She called over her shoulder as she disappeared up the staircase. He made a small sound of irritation and was about to address his father when Mr. Weasley ran off, saying hurriedly, "I'm sorry Ron, I can't stop now, I have to talk to Dumbledore." Then he rushed off to use the fireplace in the living room. In the kitchen, that left Ron and his mother, who was still frying eggs.

"Did you wake Harry up yet?" Mrs. Weasley asked him, noticing her youngest son for the first time that morning.

"No, he's already up..." Ron barely had a chance to say before his father came running back into the kitchen, cursing under his breath.

"Damn it, I can't reach Dumbledore," Mr. Weasley muttered. "He must be at the Ministry."

"Is there any way that you can reach him without going through Fudge's secretaries?" Mrs. Weasley called over her shoulder, still busy making breakfast.

"No," Mr. Weasley sighed, sinking down into a chair at the table. "I'll have to try again later. Maybe at the hospital."

"What's going on?" Ron asked nervously, looking from one parent to the other. He was beginning to get the feeling that they knew something that he didn't.

"Well, um, something with Fudge, dear," Mrs. Weasley said vaguely, waving her hand in the air. "Have you woken up Harry yet?"

"I already told you!" Ron said, a little angrily, wondering what was up with his family this morning. "He's already up..."

He was about to ask about this something with Fudge, but just then his mother let out a surprised, "Oh!" The magical spatula that had flipped the eggs by itself had begun to loudly smacking itself against the edge of the frying pan, signaling that the eggs were done cooking. Mrs. Weasley snatched the spatula off the frying pan and tossed it carelessly onto the counter, much like Ron had done with his clothes. Mr. Weasley got up to help her, waving his wand as plates came flying out of the cabinets.

"Harry's already up?" Mrs. Weasley said absentmindedly, motioning for him to come over and help set the table. "I haven't seen him."

"Well, he's not in his room. Maybe he went to the bathroom." Ron studied his mother carefully. "Mum, what's going on with Fudge?"

Mrs. Weasley didn't answer. She busied herself with pouring orange juice into glasses. Ron turned to his father, his previous feelings of irritation and annoyance quickly disappearing into anxiousness and foreboding. "Dad? What's going on?"

Mr. Weasley sighed again, turning to face his son. "Fudge is just.doing something, Ron. Doing something bad." He paused. Seeing the look on Ron's face, he sighed yet again. "I'm sorry. I really want to tell Harry first, and then the rest of you all together."

"You can't just tell me now?"

"No," Mr. Weasley answered heavily. "Where's Hermione?"

"I dunno. Ask Ginny," Ron muttered, frowning. He knew that Fudge had been doing bad things already, what else could he have possibly done to make their lives worse? He could hardly contain his nervouseness. Finally, after a moment, he blurted out, "Is what he's doing really bad?"

Mrs. Weasley bit her lip, stealing a side glance at her son and husband from where she was taking out silverware. Mr. Weasley didn't answer, and there was a short silence that lasted until Hermione walked into the kitchen, running a comb through her hair.

"Hello," She said, yawning slightly and leaning against the doorframe. "Where is everyone?"

"Ginny's out front, Fred and George are running amok, and Harry Apparated to the moon," Ron said grumpily, plopping himself onto a chair and putting his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands and glaring at his parents. He hated being left out of things.

Hermione raised her eyebrow at him briefly, but then turned back to trying to get a particulary nasty tangle out of her hair, jumping slightly as Ginny appeared behind her.

"Harry? On the moon? How interesting," Ginny muttered vaguely, taking a seat next to Ron. "When are we going to leave for St. Mungo's?"

"In about twenty minutes, so eat quickly," Mrs. Weasley said, setting a plate of the fried eggs in front of her. "Ron, are you sure that Harry's up?"

"Positive," Ron insisted. "He's not in his bed, and you didn't see him outside, Ginny?"

Ginny shook her head wearily, rubbing her eyes. Ron quickly observed that he seemed to be the only one in the room who wasn't extremely tired. But then again, he had always been a fairly deep sleeper.

Mrs. Weasley frowned. "Hermione, dear, would you mind running up and seeing if Harry is upstairs?"

"Okay," Hermione said, disappearing out of the kitchen. A moment after she left, Fred and George walked into the kitchen, sitting down in the two seats next to Ginny. Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes at them, but didn't say anything as she set down their plates of eggs.

George picked up his fork and spooned some of the eggs onto it, looking around the kitchen at his family. Suddenly, he said, "Hey, I saw Hermione. Where's Harry?"

"Hermione's looking for him upstairs," Mr. Weasley said. "He and Ron must have just missed each other."

"Oh," Said George. Only Ron, who was watching the twins, saw the puzzled glance he gave Fred before turning back to his father. "Are you sure? Because I was just up there and didn't see him."

Mr. Weasley raised his eyebrows at him. "Where else would he be?"

"The moon," Ron said vacantly, staring into his glass of orange juice. He was still thinking hard about Fudge, and wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying. "I'm telling you, he Apparated to the moon."

"Of course he did," Fred said, grinning at Ron and giving him a knowing pat on the shoulder. Ron hardly noticed, he was so immersed in his thoughts. In fact, he only looked up as he heard the sound of footsteps nearing the kitchen.

"Harry dear, is that you?" Mrs. Weasley called. "Come in, we've got breakfast ready."

But it wasn't Harry. It was Hermione. She was standing very still in the doorway, her comb clenched in her hand and her face pale.

"Not there," She whispered.

"Hm?" Mrs. Weasley said, frowning. Everybody was watching Hermione now.

"He's not there," Hermione said, her voice sounding very choked.

"What do you mean he's not there?" Mr. Weasley said, standing up from his seat.

"I mean he's not there! Just not there!" Hermione said desperately, breaking out of her still stature. "He's not there..."

"Then where is he?" Ron gasped, standing up as well and staring at his friend with a look of alarm on his face.

"I don't know!" Hermione said, her voice slightly muffled as she now had her hands covering her face. "I don't know. He's not there. He's gone."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Harry stood, completely dumbfounded as all thoughts of what date it was, and this dream-world, and what was going on were swept from his mind as he watched the diner door close behind the swish of red hair.

James. Red hair. James. *Red hair.*

Harry blinked once, and then twice. Then, without stopping to think, he bolted, running out the door so fast it felt as if he had been shot from a cannon. Once he was outside and on the sidewalk he spun around in every direction, looking around wildly for the two people he just knew had to be his parents. Then, he finally spotted them, walking down the street in the opposite direction from which Harry had originally come. He stood, rooted to the ground, and stared.

His mother. She had very long, wavy red hair hanging loose about her shoulders, although the breeze was blowing it off her back and it bounced behind her.

His father. A good four or five inches or so taller than his mother, he had the same naturally messy black hair that Harry recognized as his own. He had his arm loosely around his wife's shoulders. They seemed perfectly at ease with one another.

Again without stopping to think, Harry ran down the block until he was about ten feet behind his parents. All he could do was walk behind them, staring, with is mouth hanging open. His conscious mind seemed to have simply stopped functioning, although there was a nagging thought in the back of his mind that was repeatedly telling Harry to approach them.

After walking behind them for another two blocks or so, Harry finally payed attention to the little voice in his head. Approach them? Harry knew in his heart that that wasn't a good idea, not at this point at least. Transfixed by the sight of his parents, Harry was more or less content with just following them around, gawking without a care in the world, not even listening to the conversation they were having. He didn't even notice that, as they walked, houses began to be farther apart, and the forest began to line the sides of the road again.

At one point he wasn't quite looking where he was going and his foot banged into a rock that was lying on the sidewalk. He stumbled, frowning down at the rock with distaste. Kicking it aside, he looked up.

They were gone.

Harry gave a short intake of air and stared frantically at the spot that he had last seen them, panic-stricken. What.what.where were they? What. Eyes wide, Harry looked for them up and down the darkening country road, but they were no where to be seen. Where could they have gone? Could they have Apparated?

Suddenly, Harry heard voices coming from his left, in the woods. Turning around, he saw a flash of red hair through the trees. He knew immediately that they were somewhere in the forest, and he tried to figure out how they had gotten in there. Had they just walked into the forest, just like that? But no.they seemed to be walking on some sort of a path. After careful inspection, Harry saw that there was indeed a cleverly concealed path entering the forest. In fact, the only reason that he found it at all was simply because he knew that it existed, otherwise he never would have seen it.

Pushing aside he underbrush, he stepped onto the path. Walking very quickly, Harry didn't even stop to consider where he might be going, but the only focus in his mind was his parents being in his eye sight again.

The path wasn't too long, only about one hundred feet through all of it's twist and turns around the hillside. After he was about three quarters of the way done, Harry began to see glimpses of a large house through the trees. Suddenly, it hit him: His parents were going home! To their home...to his home...He began to walk faster.

Suddenly, about twenty feet directly in front of him, was a very big house in a clearing in the woods, which his parents were approaching, their backs to him. They were walking up the steps of a front porch, but before they had even reached the door, the doorknob was turning. Someone was in the house...someone was opening the door for them...Harry was in direct view of the house, if someone opened the door from the inside, he would be in direct view of them...

With a small, unwanted squeak of horror and the knowledge that he could let no one see him in his mind, Harry dived into the woods, crouching among the huge roots of particulary enormous tree. Turning around and getting onto his knees, Harry peered around the tree carefully...but then a creaking sound told him that the door was being opened, and he quickly moved away.

"Hullo, Jim! Lily!" Said an extremely familiar voice cheerfully. Very familiar...with eyes so wide that were threatening to pop out of their sockets, Harry stopped breathing for a moment as he listened. "I saw you guys coming. Did you have fun?"

"Perfect fun, Sirius," Lily Potter's voice said easily. "How's Harry?"

"He just fell asleep," Harry heard Sirius answer. "I have to say, you guys have an extremely good kid here. He was absolutely no trouble at all."

"Of course not, he's a Potter!" James said, and Harry could tell from his voice that he was grinning.

"Well, that is the only problem with him," Sirius said, in an I-hate-to- admit-it sort of voice. "You know, his being a Potter. I mean, the kid's great and all, but growing up with you guys...I mean, I'm just concerned that it's going to be hazardous for his health and all..."

"Ahem!" Lily said loudly, laughing. Very riskily taking a peek around the tree trunk, Harry saw James shake his head.

"Ah, shut up, Padfoot," He said. "Hey, why are Lily and I waiting out here? This is our house, why aren't we coming in?"

"I don't know, you tell me," Sirius shrugged. Harry saw a glimpse of him smiling and moving aside as he let Lily and James into their house. The door closed behind them.

Harry sank against the tree trunk, letting his head drop onto his knees and rubbing his forehead wearily. He had no idea what to do. It was October 31st, 1981, his parents and godfather were less than thirty feet away from him, and he had no idea what to do.

He couldn't very well just walk into the house and say, "Hi Mum! Hi Dad! I'm your son fourteen years from now, and you die tonight, so I'm going to try and help you! Oh yeah, Sirius, I'm also keeping you from going to Azkaban." Despite everything, Harry gave a small snort. Yeah, like that would work.

But what could he do? He couldn't just sit around twiddling his thumbs while the most powerful dark wizard in the world destroyed his family. And while that stinking rat got away with what he did. But he couldn't very well march up to everyone and tell them what was going to happen.

And yet, he just simply really wanted to see his parents. He suddenly hated the fact that he suddenly had the oppurtunity to see his parents, but under these circumstances, he couldn't. But he really wanted to see them.to see what they were like, to talk to them, to tell the, who he was.

But he couldn't.

He almost let out a cry of frustration, but restrained himself. Harry couldn't remember ever feeling so helpless in his life. He wanted to do something so badly he was almost crying with the need, but at the same time he felt that if he really did anything, it could make things even worse...

Harry hardly noticed as he made a choking sound in the back of his throat.

As he sat there, shaking his head and uselessly searching his mind for something that he could do, it hit him.

Quite suddenly, with a dull realization, Harry realized that he had come to the conclusion that this wasn't a dream after all.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Harry didn't know how long he sat there among the tree roots outside the Potter's home. All he knew was that the sky was quickly darkening and he was still at a lost to what was happening to him.

He might have fallen asleep at one point, he wasn't quite sure. Time seemed to have no limits or restrictions for him, all that existed for him was the sorrow and dread inside his own heart. Minutes passed by, hours for all he knew, and still he sat unmoving, his back leaning against the rough bark of the tree.

Once he considered going up to the front door of the house and knocking, just for something to do to help him feel like he actually was doing something. He really was about to do it, and he had already stretched his stiff legs and climbed out from behind his little hiding place when he froze, hearing the creaking of the front door. Breath catching in his throat, he once again dived behind his now familiar tree, poking his head around the corner to see what was going on.

It was Sirius. Harry's eyes widened, in all the excitement in his mind concerning his parents he had almost forgotten that Sirius was in the house at all. Harry bit his lip, straining his ears in order to hear the low murmer of voices coming from the house. Staying completely still, he listened.

"Listen, James," Harry heard Sirius saying. His voice, which had sounded light and humorous before, was now very heavy. It also had another element in it, an element that Harry had only heard once in Sirius's voice, that night when he was almost captured by the dementors. The element was fear.

"James, I have to say, I-I'm a bit worried about you," Sirius continued. "Okay, more than a bit. Were not exactly living in a safe world, you know."

"I know, Sirius," James said quietly, his voice as heavy as his friend's. "I know. I'm worried, too."

"And not just about you and Lily," Sirius went on. "But about Harry." His voice trailed off. Harry had never heard Sirius talk like this before, and he struggled to fight down the feelings that were welling up inside of him.

"He's...only a baby..." Sirius was saying very softly, his voice choked with emotion. By now, Harry's ears were aching with the effort of making out his godfather's words. "I'm worried about what's going to happen to him...how he's going to grow up..."

"That's why we made you his godfather, Sirius," Harry heard his mother's voice say, and he knew that she had joined the pair. "Because we know that if anything ever happened to us, you could be there when we couldn't..."

There was a silence, in which Harry didn't move a muscle as he crouched behind the tree. He hardly noticed that he was losing all feeling in his legs beneath him, but he was only waiting anxiously for someone to speak. He suddenly had the wild urge to run out and tell Sirius and his parents that he had survived Voldemort, that he was all right, but he instead chewed on the insides of his cheeks until he tasted blood. He jumped slightly.

"I just...I just feel..." Sirius seemed to be struggling with his thoughts as much as Harry was with his. He heard him heave a huge sigh before continuing. "I just feel like something's going to happen, you know? Like I'm dreading something that's going to happen..." Harry risked a peek around the side of the tree in time to see Sirius shake his head and comb his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. Maybe it's because it's Halloween, or I've just been hanging around Trelawny too much..."

James gave what seemed to Harry a very forced laugh. "Sirius, I think you need to go home and get some sleep."

"Yeah, yeah..." Harry saw him shake his head again. "I just...I think I'll go check on Peter now. Just to make sure that's all right, that everything going smoothly..."

Peter? Harry's heart skipped a beat. Oh no, oh gosh, oh no...

Harry heard Lily say something too softly for him to hear, and the next thing he heard was his father saying very quietly and solemnly, "Good bye, Padfoot."

"Bye, Prongs. Remember, be aware, and, and..."

"Be careful, Sirius," Lily said, and Harry swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched his parents say goodbye to Sirius for the last time. Sirius gave Lily a kiss on the cheek and exchanged one final glance with James before turning around and walking down the porch steps, the wind blowing in his hair. He was walking very quickly, as if he didn't want to be faced with the oppurtunity of turning around, like he was afraid of how he might react.

Harry's eyes were trained on his parents as they watched Sirius's retreating back, and then as they disappeared into the house, closing the door behind them. Then, with great difficulty, Harry's eyes slid from the door to his godfather, watching his approaching face and noting with mild surprise that his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

He suspects something...Harry thought, full of amazement. I always knew that he thought something was wrong at the very end, with Peter being the Secret Keeper, but I never knew that he actually suspected him...Harry knew he suspected Pettigrew because, even from a distance and from behind the wall of tears, he could see a very familiar emotion in Sirius's eyes, one which he knew very well. Set determination.

As he watched his godfather walking down away from the house and towards the path, Harry suddenly realized that if he didn't move in the next few seconds, he would be in direct view of Sirius. Without stopping to think, he quickly forced his numb legs to move and scrambled around to the far side of the tree, trying to make as little noise as possible. However, it was Halloween, which was in the full swing of autumn, which meant that there was a good deal of fallen dry leaves on the ground. Leaves that were making cracking noises as Harry climbed over them.

Sirius paused right on the other side of Harry's tree, listening hard as if he had heard Harry's movement. He stood there for a moment, frowning in the darkness. Then he seemingly dismissed the noises as that of an animal and continued walking down the path.

For a moment, Harry was lost when it came to what to do. Part of him wanted to stay as close to his parents as possible, but he knew he couldn't...Voldemort would be arriving there that night, he couldn't stick around and let his future self be killed...but then what was he to do?

The idea slammed into him like someone had just punched him out of no where from the darkness. *Follow Sirius.*

Not for the first time that night, Harry didn't stop to think. Only using his impulses as a guide, Harry sprang to his feet and found himself creeping down the path after his godfather.





A/N: Finally, huh? Finally.I am so sorry about this, guys! I hope it never happens again, I really do. I'm so glad that those of you who read the Author's Note that I put up understood and aren't boycotting my story or anything. I really, really appreciate it, thank you!

I actually wanted to put a lot more in this chapter than is actually in it. In the beginning some loosed ends are dropped that aren't tied up for a bit...but this chapter is already among the longer ones and I figured that you guys have been really patient long enough and I'll explain stuff in the next chapter.

I hope you guys are happy, I really do! This chapter doesn't really seem to be going much of anywhere, though, it's very slow moving.

Does Hermione seem a bit out of character? I don't know, she just seems sort of weird in this chapter, and Harry too...He's totally worn out at the end of the chapter, he doesn't know what's going on, he's exhausted, and everything's being thrown on top of him-both in 1981 and 1995. But he's not thinking about 1995 much in this chapter...hmm...

About that little Debbie Harry thing in the beginning of the chapter...haha, I couldn't help myself. I have a friend who loves that song, and she calls it "the stalker song." I was just thinking about it while writing part of this chapter, and hey, Harry really wants to see his parents, doesn't he? Just adding a little bit of humor into an otherwise very solemn and serious chapter. (

Ciria: Yeah, Richard Harris died.I don't know who's playing Dumbledore in the next movie, from what I've heard casting hasn't been approached quite yet. It better be someone good, though!

I'm glad you like my story. I know I've said it before, but this is getting soooo complicated...it has more twists and turns than a maze...

naughtynat: Hey, it seems like I'm getting new reviewers every chapter! I totally agree with you-isn't it better too not rush things and get something great, than to rush things and-although it was quicker--get something awful? That's my attitude toward how long it's been taking JKR to get the fifth book out. Everybody's saying, "Get it out already! I don't care if you want to perfect it, I want it now!" But honestly, wouldn't you like the book to be a product of the best of her ability, rather than being disappointed? But I don't think she could ever disappoint me... (

Alexa Black: This story is getting a little crazy, huh? It's been jumping from one place to another like a bunch of those Mexican jumping bean thingies...er strange similie...anyway...actually, it's 14 years into the future, but who's counting? (

When pigs fly, you know that just about anything in the world can be achieved! Hehe...flying pigs...I like that...

celestial princess: Dena, Dena, Dena.yeah, I seemed to have gotten into the habit of leaving chapters off at cliffhangers.sorry! And it was Halloween, I remember...I think...yeah, it was Halloween! Now you got me all confused...it was Halloween...

Yuffie-Girl: Changing history is a tedious process...hehehe...the question is, will history be changed? Not saying anything anymore...

Was it you who said that Fudge wasn't going to go without a fight? Reviews are inspiring me all the time...next chapter, I think the review section for my story is going to be used for a lot of Fudge-bashing!

Child-of-the-Dawn: SOPHOMOREEEEEE! Lol I'm okay now.Sirius rocks, doesn't he? I love Sirius, I wouldn't let anything too bad happen to him. Well, not at the end of the story at least. ( Midterms suck? Amen! Can I get a hallejuh (is that spelled right?) from the congregation? Yeah ignore it's almost 2 o'clock in the morning and I'm incredibly hyper-too many donuts!

mo: Yet more reviewers! Yay! I did do good, thanks.some of them weren't as hard as I thought they would be.

Remember, the little button down there-however beautiful you may think it to be-is not just there for decoration! (