Disclaimer: Do people actually read these things? Does anyone reading it think that I actually claim to own Harry Potter? Sigh. People are stupid.

A/N: Fifth book coming out on June 21st! Yay! Yay! Yay! It's about time! Yay! Also, just so people don't get confused about what time everything is happening (because I got myself confused for a moment), here's a little overview so people don't get confuzzled: Hehe...I like that word, confuzzled...anyway, at the end of the last chapter at the Burrow, it is the morning. Everything before that was the evening, and now it is the morning, like the end of the last chapter. Keep in mind that none of this concerns where Harry is, because he is in a different time altogether! Man, I sure hope this chapter makes sense and you guys understand it! A lot of stuff happens, and it jumps around a lot...oy...

Chapter Eighteen-Ideas, Hopes, and Dreams

Harry stood, staring over Voldemort's unconscious body, wondering what he should do now. The pain was fading away in his scar, and he could think clearly again.

Taking a deep breath, he carefully thought everything over in his mind-he was in 1981. Voldemort was in 1981 with him, and Harry had just knocked him out. But, soon enough, the real Voldemort from 1981 was going to come and try to kill him and his parents.

"And you were going to help him," Harry whispered, staring at the body of the Dark Lord lying on the forest floor, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath that he took. "You and Wormtail were going to join together and help him, and you were going to try to kill me as well...well, that certainly didn't work out!"

And he was right. Somehow, someway, Harry had gotten in 1981 in the place of Wormtail, and with Harry's Voldemort lying unconscious, it was safe to say that things weren't going as he had planned.

But some things hadn't changed. The Voldemort from 1981 was still out there somewhere, as dangerous as ever. And he was still going to go to the Potter's home, and still going to kill Harry's parents, and still not succeed in killing Harry...

Presently, teenage Harry looked around nervously. Voldemort was out here somewhere, it was probably only a matter of minutes before he showed up and killed Harry's parents...he had to find someway to get out of here...

He ran over the possibilities in his mind-he could take his Voldemort and hide, waiting it out while history was made and then worry about getting to the present, when he had more time to figure things out. Yes, that was probably the best thing to do, because he didn't have much time now...

Then the thought slammed into him out of no where, so unexpected that Harry froze his movement and his breath caught in his throat. *I could warn my parents!*

There was silence. Harry's mind seemed to have stilled for a moment, and he stood, not moving at all. He didn't flinch, didn't even acknowledge it when an owl hooted and flew overhead. He could warn his parents...warn his parents...

Could he? Harry sank to his knees next Voldemort's body, staring at the ground. He could warn his parents...if he warned his parents about what was going to happen to them that night, then they could run...they could go somewhere else and be safe, and get rid of Wormtail...

He could save them... All his life, Harry had wondered what it would have been like if his parents had never died, if he had grown up with them...oh, he would have been so much happier... But his parents were dead, and he never had the chance to even get to know them, to speak with them just once...

And now, he had the opportunity to change all that, if he wanted to...he could save his parents from dying, Voldemort would never have gotten to them, and Harry would never have gotten his scar...he wouldn't have defeated Voldemort...

And then a little voice of reality started to remind him that if Voldemort had never found his family, not only would he never have killed Harry's parents, he would have never attempted to kill Harry, so he would never have gotten defeated. He would be fine, he would be living.

And he could kill more people.

Harry gulped, staring fearfully around him. If he warned his parents, he could have the family he had always wanted, but Voldemort would still be in power and causing more murders. If he didn't warn his parents, they would die...but Voldemort would be out of the picture for years.

He had a choice to make. Save his parents, save his family, save Sirius from going to Azkaban, save people he cared about...or save the world.

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

Sirius was in a considerably better mood than he had been a few days ago as he lay in his hospital bed at St. Mungo's and talked to Albus Dumbledore.

His old school professor always seemed to have that effect on him, ever since his Hogwarts days. No matter how down Sirius was feeling after a girlfriend broke up with him or he got a week's worth of detention, Dumbledore always seemed to be able to sense it, and a simple smile from him would-strangely enough-always make him feel better.

This was what was occurring now. For Dumbledore always had a way of seeing sunny side of the street, so to speak, and for the past fifteen minutes the two of them had been sharing fond memories of Lily and James. Slowly, however, their conversation had turned to Sirius's trial, and for the first time Sirius allowed himself to consider what would happen to Harry if he wasn't granted his freedom.

Where would he go?

He was just about to raise this question to Dumbledore when there was a knock on the door. Dumbledore looked at Sirius, who nodded.

"Come in!" Dumbledore called out. The door opened. It was one of the secretaries from Sirius's section at the hospital. He stared at her in surprise. Hardly anyone other than people that Sirius knew personally or members of the Ministry had dared to come into his room before, they were all too frightened.

This secretary didn't seem to be an exception, either. She gulped noticeably as she walked in, chewing on the side of her lips and bouncing slightly from foot to foot. Sirius gave an inward sigh, realizing that it was going to take a while for people to get used to him.

The secretary looked around anxiously, although Sirius could tell she was carefully avoiding making eye contact with him. "Mr. Albus Dumbledore?" She asked in a small voice, looking at Dumbledore, nervously tucking a strand of loose brown hair behind her ear.

"Yes, that's me," Dumbledore said calmly, looking at the young woman with polite curiosity.

"We've gotten several attempted calls from a place called 'the Burrow,' with someone trying to get through to you," The secretary had spoken quickly, as though she wanted to get this experience over and done with, as fast as possible.

Dumbledore was looking at her carefully. "Is the speaker in a fireplace?"

"N-no, sir," The secretary stammered, her eyes venturing away from Dumbledore and making a quick flick over to Sirius. After doing this, she leaned her weight backwards slightly, as if she were trying to get closer to the door.

Sirius, who had been watching the secretary rather than listening to the conversation, felt a sudden rush of anger toward her after her implied movements. Dumbledore, he knew, noticed what she was doing as well, but he chose to ignore it. Sirius earnestly wished that he could do the same, but he had never been one for ignoring things. Years ago, he had been very straight forward, ready to show his feelings, he had even been a bit arrogant. However, those traits of his had been lost-temporarily or for forever-during his time in Azkaban.

He kept his mouth shut.

"No?" Dumbledore questioned, frowning slightly at her over his glasses.

"No, h-he...the calls never came completely through. And then, th-they stopped all t-together, and we caught that the c-caller began to call the M- ministry of Magic." The secretary's stuttering was beginning to get on Sirius nerves. He inwardly sneered at her. *Aw, the poor lass is scared out of her wits,* he thought with dry amusement

"Thank you," Dumbledore nodded at her. She fell back onto her heels and practically jumped out of the room. Sirius stared stonily for a moment at the place where she had last stood before turning to Dumbledore as he began to speak.

"That must have been one of the Weasleys trying to get through to me," He said. A small crease appeared between his brows. "It must be urgent, if they were trying to contact me at here and the Ministry..." He muttered under his breath.

Sirius stared at him. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm going to have to go and see what this is all about. Goodbye." With a swish of his robes, he was gone, leaving Sirius to wonder what was going on.

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

Remus Lupin walked into the Ministry of Magic building, taking comfort in the familiar sight of Ministry officials bustling to and fro with various papers in their hands. It was a familiar, and therefore comforting sight. He took a deep breath, looking around. He hadn't been there in a long time.

The building was very old. Remus wasn't exactly sure how old it was- he had never really been one for history, and boring old Professor Binns hadn't helped stimulate an interest-but he knew that it had built hundred of years ago...although nearly not as old as Hogwarts. He enjoyed looking at the old English architecture that made up the building. It wasn't straight and streamlined like some of the modern office buildings were beginning to be, but rather it was filled with elaborate and beautiful designs.

Remus glanced off into a corner, and a flash of memory suddenly hit him.

He remembered one time, many years ago, when he had stood in that corner with Lily and another friend of their's from Hogwarts, Hannah. Lily had been pregnant with Harry at the time, and as they stood there she had gotten many smiles from members of the Ministry. While acknowledging them and smiling back, she had commented to Remus and Hannah how the overall feel of this place reminded her of Muggle office buildings, the people and the busyness. "But the building itself is far more beautiful. The Muggles don't use much creative architecture as much as they used to," She had told Hannah, who had been interested in the differences between Muggles and magical people.

Hannah...Remus hadn't seen her for years...

However, Remus shook his head as if to clear it of his old memories. He had come all the way to London for a reason-to help Colette.

Before the deaths of Lily and James, Remus had considered going into law as a profession. After he had graduated from Hogwarts, he had been an intern in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. But then his life had changed, and everything had changed.

However, he had decided to help Sirius in a more direct-not to mention easier-way than going combing through all of Yorkshire looking for anything that might be of interest. He decided that he would use his small knowledge of the law to help Colette search for evidence that might help them incriminate Fudge.

After asking a secretary and then being directed to where her office was, he found it quickly and knocked on the door.

No answer.

He knocked again. Still no answer. Frowning slightly, he tried the doorknob; it was locked.

He sighed and leaned against the wall, rubbing his shadowed eyes and wondering where she could have gone. After a few seconds he closed his eyes, tilting his head against the wall, while dimly noticing how tired he was.

Then he straightened up suddenly.

There were footsteps coming down the corridor. He straightened quickly again, his eyes snapping open. He tugged at his clothes, trying to smooth out the wrinkles.

A man with limp black hair and small brown eyes, dressed in official Ministry clothes, came around the corner right next to Colette's office. The man stared at him in surprise, and Remus stared back.

"Can I help you?" The man asked after a moment. He roamed his eyes up and down Remus's body, taking in his unkempt and tired appearance. Once again, Remus was nervously conscious of how he looked, and discreetly tugged at his clothes again.

"No, I don't think..." Remus began, then stopped himself. "Well, actually, maybe you can. Can you tell me where Colette Villons might be?"

The man hesitated for a moment before asking, a bit suspiciously, "Who wants to know?"

"My name's Remus Lupin. We know each other a little. We have...friends in common."

"Lupin, eh?"

"Yes."

The man pressed his lips together for a moment before sighing and speaking again. "I normally wouldn't know, but I saw her only about twenty minutes ago. She was on the way to the legal library." The man paused, but then he seemingly decided that Remus was trustworthy before saying, "Go all the way to the other end of this hall. Make a right, and then make the first right that you see after that. It's right down at the end of that hallway."

Remus nodded. "Thank you." He turned to follow the man's directions, walking swiftly down the corridor.

"Oh, and Lupin?"

Remus turned around, raising his eyebrow at the man. "Yes?"

To Remus's surprise, the man smiled grimly at him. "I would be helping her do research, too, but I need to investigate some other stuff in this whole big mess. It seems like anyone who will listen to Dumbledore is getting involved. So he's assigned me my own crap to deal with." Then he turned and was immediately gone.

Remus stared at the place where he had last seen the man, dumbfounded into silence. *What just happened?* He wondered. Had that man known about everything that was going on? Was everything that was happening "this whole big mess" that he had referred to?

Remus shook his head, and turned to go to the library. Things were getting weirder by the minute.

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

Hermione remained sitting on the Weasley's couch with Ron several minutes after Fred, George, and Ginny had left the living room and gone their separate ways. Mrs. Weasley remained as well, bustling around the room, folding clothes and straightening pictures, dumping Ginny's notebooks into a pile and Ron's candy wrappers into the garbage.

"Mum always starts cleaning the house when she's nervous," Ron whispered in Hermione's ear. "In some strange way, I think it relaxes her. My mum's a bit odd," He added, grinning at her.

Hermione was only half listening, however. She was still staring at her knees and thinking about Fudge, about how chaotic and disorganized things were back before Voldemort's downfall. Ignoring Ron, she spoke to Mrs. Weasley.

"So you said that...that...if someone wanted to get away with something illegal back in 1981 and before, they could have?"

"Why yes, dear," Mrs. Weasley straightened up, brushing stray strands of red hair out of her eyes. "I've already said that many times. Why are you so interested in it?"

"Because Fudge could have...Fudge could..." Hermione was talking very slowly, because the idea was still forming in her mind. She struggled to mentally grasp it before her thoughts slipped away from her. She took a deep breath, and tried to say exactly what she was thinking, while trying to make it as clear as possible.

"Fudge could have used the chaos to help himself...he could have used everybody's panic to cover it up, and not given people trials..."

"What are you talking about...?" Ron started to ask, staring at her. But Mrs. Weasley shushed him, watching Hermione very carefully.

"And the public wouldn't know about it, because they think what the media told them is the truth!" Hermione continued, beginning to get excited and talking faster now. "The public would never guess...for Sirius, right, the Ministry made it all look as if there was solid evidence that he was guilty, so Fudge didn't need to give him...or...or...or anyone else for that matter, a trial! Because everything was all chaotic, and not many small crimes were looked into!" She finished triumphantly.

"Hermione, are you saying that all those other people who were convicted of being Death Eaters might be innocent after all?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking at her with widening eyes.

"I'm...well...*suggesting* it," She swallowed, squirming a bit under Ron's stare. "I'm a bit surprised that we didn't think of it before actually. If Sirius was wrongly convicted, who's to say that other people weren't, as well?"

"Wait, back to Fudge," Ron interrupted, glancing from his mother to his friend. "He wasn't the minister back then, was he, Mum?"

Hermione, who had started to respond, closed her mouth with a snap. In her excitement, she hadn't thought of that.

"No, he wasn't," Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "He was the Junior Minister of some department, I don't remember which, but I'm sure that it wasn't Magical Law Enforcement. Even if he was, he still wouldn't have had the power to decide whether Sirius were to get a trial or not."

"But *now* he's the minister, and he has the power to give Sirius a fair trial *now*, doesn't he?" Hermione persisted, her usual determination shining through her words. "But he's not..."

There was a short moment of silence in which all three of them looked at each other, thinking. Suddenly, Hermione stood up and nodded, as though a decision had just been made.

"We're going to go see that Colette Villons person," She said firmly. It wasn't a request, it was a statement.

"You mean that person who is trying to help Sirius?" Ron questioned, standing up as well to look at her in the eye.

"That person also happens to be the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Ron. And I heard Dumbledore saying yesterday that she was going to try and find a way to get Fudge out of his office." Hermione said. Then she looked at Mrs. Weasley. "And I think I can help her! We have to go to the Ministry."

Mrs. Weasley looked from Hermione to her son, then back to Hermione. Then she nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Yes. Alright. Get your brothers and sister, Ron. We're leaving."

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

Colette had been on her way to the library the night before when the entire weight of her exhaustion hit her. Unable to focus, she had called it a night, deciding to go home and get some rest. Now the next morning, a part of her regretted what she had done-she had lost some valuable research time. Another part of her, however, told her that she would have gotten no where this morning if she hadn't gotten some sleep, and she knew that part was right.

She had only been in the library for ten, maybe fifteen mintures at most before he came. At the time was completely engrossed in searching for the notes taken at the International Confederation of Wizards meeting of 1450, with a huge pile of books on the table beside her, when she heard the sound of throat clearing behind her.

She looked up to find a tired looking man with a pale complexion and light brown hair standing beside her. A man that looked strangely familiar.

The man looked at her for a moment before speaking. "Hello."

"Hello..." She said cautiously, feeling a bit irritated that she was being interrupted.

"I've come to help you do your research, looking for anything that might incriminate Fudge..." The man continued, scanning the shelves of the books that was standing next to her.

Feeling more than a little irritated now, she interrupted him. "Do I know you?"

"Yes, well, sort of. You know who I am, but we haven't met in well over a decade...my name is Remus Lupin." He lowered his voice slightly. "I'm a friend of Sirius Black's..."

She stared at him. "*The* Remus Lupin? The werewolf Remus Lupin? The Marauder Remus Lupin?"

A small flicker of a smile passed over Lupin's tired face for a moment, but was quickly gone. "That would be me. We met once or twice, a long time ago...Sirius had introduced you to me."

*That's why he looked so familiar!* Colette thought. Outwardly, however, she merely nodded. "Yes, I remember a bit...and you've come to help me?"

"Yes. I figure that helping you with all this Fudge business would be a bit more effective than what I was doing before."

"Well, a little help would always be greatly appreciated," Colette said graciously, grinning slightly before turning around to the table where her books were. She pulled out two chairs from the table, sitting down in one of them and pulling the pile of books closer to her. Then she lifted off the top half of the pile and dropped it onto the table space in front of the other chair with a thump.

She turned to Lupin, allowing herself to grin more widely now. She waved her hand, ever-so-graciously, at the pile of books. "Help yourself."

Smiling a bit of a relieved looking smile that lit up his face, he sat down next to her, and together they set to work.

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

*I could save them if I wanted to! I could save them! They could be alive!* One part of Harry thought desperately. He was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree near where Voldemort's unconscious form lay. He had brought his legs up to his chest, and his head was between his knees.

But another part of him had an argument to match that statement. *But if Voldemort never gets to you, then innocent people would die!*

He was having a horrible inner struggle. There would be fleeting moments where a part of him would become something fierce, a part of him that Harry didn't know and didn't like at all. That part of him would say, *Forget about those people! I have a right to happiness, too! If those people die, their families are unhappy, but if my parents die, I'm unhappy! Why should they be the happy ones, and not me!*

But then another part would respond. *Because there's more of them! Voldemort wouldn't just kill one other family if he lived past this night, and that would mean that more people would suffer! And besides, their innocent, they have no say! I have a choice...*

And that was the problem. This was a choice that he wished with all his heart he didn't have to make. But wishing doesn't mean anything, it doesn't do anything. Actions speak louder than words.

Harry didn't know how long he sat there for, his head swirling with parts of himself that he didn't even know existed up until then. All he knew was that he had to make a decision, and soon, because the 1981 Voldemort would be coming soon...

No matter how much he wanted his parents to be alive, no matter how much he wanted to have a real family like everybody else, Harry knew that deep in his heart he wouldn't be able to live with the fact that he had caused the deaths of maybe hundreds of people just to make himself happy. Sure, it was genuine want, a genuine need to have a family-it wasn't a superficial wish, but rather something everyone should be granted, a family.

And then, it all came down to the fact that more kids would probably become orphans if he saved changed history in such a way. Harry could live with being an orphan, he had for fourteen years, but he couldn't live with the fact that he had caused other kids to become orphans, made other kids go through the same pain that he had. He couldn't do that.

So he decided, in the end, to not save his family. It was easily the hardest decision of his life, but his mind was set.

As soon as he came out of the haze-like state that he had been in, he refused to let his mind think about the decision he had just made. That, he could think about later, after he got home. If he survived the getting home, that is.

For he had to take Voldemort with him. He couldn't leave him here in 1981, but had to take him back to 1995. Problem was, how could he get back...

Voldemort had said something about a Time Turner. Of course! Harry slapped his forehead. Duh... Voldemort would definitely have a Time Turner, he wouldn't have left no way for him to get back to the present after his work was done.

Crawling away from the tree, Harry stretched his cramped legs, then knelt down next to the body of his enemy. As much as the thought made him nauseous, he had to find that Time Turner. Holding his breath and swallowing back a wave of disgust, Harry began to poke into Voldemort's robes, looking for the Time Turner.

Luckily, it didn't take him long to find it, because it was just hanging around his neck. As soon as Harry had it in his hand, however, he realized that he didn't know how to use it. This was different from the one he and Hermione had used in their third year, this was larger, and was obviously designated to travel through a larger amount of time.

His legs were beginning to cramp again, he needed to get into a more comfortable position in order to examine the Time Turner. He shifted into a sitting position, his hand that was holding the Time Turner turning slightly as he moved. Suddenly, with a horrible feeling of fear in the pit of his stomach, Harry watched with increasing terror as Voldemort opened his eyes.

They just stared at each other for a moment, not moving, not speaking. Then Voldemort sat up quickly, letting out a cry of rage that seemed to shake Harry's very rib cage. Terrified, Harry could only stare, his hand still clutching the Time Turner. But Voldemort was quicker. He grabbed a handful of Harry's shirt and lunged forward, taking the arm that was holding the Time Turner and twisting it. Harry struggled to hold onto the Time Turner, but then he let out a cry of pain and dropped it.

Suddenly, the colors around them swirled together, and the next thing he knew Harry was no longer in a dark forest being pinned down by Voldemort, but was rather lying on the wooden floor of a dimly lit room with Voldemort next to him. It took Harry a moment to realize that this was one of the rooms that had been in his dream with Frank Bryce over a year ago...

With fear flinging itself at him like an unexpected slap, Harry realized where he must be. The Riddle House.





A/N: Well, it's been exactly three weeks since the last chapter was out. Sigh. Getting better, I guess... Well, at least now I know that January is a horrible month in my school: The first few weeks, tons of work, then last week, tons of work plus finals. Sigh. I usually don't mind school, I really don't, it's the homework I hate... Anyway, the past few days we've hardly gotten anything, so I took advantage of my time and worked my butt off on this chapter. It's the longest one yet, slightly over ten pages.

Hey, where'd all my reviewers go? You guys disappeared!

Feyla-KittyKat: For some reason, I didn't respond to you last chapter...or something...ah, I'm confused. Anyway, thanks for telling me about the 2 chapter I thing! I must have accidentally uploaded the same chapter twice. It should work now.

Voldemort...the way I see it, he doesn't want to kill Harry because he wants to figure out what the hell he's doing there, you know what I mean? Like-where's Wormtail? What's happening? How did Potter get here? He probably thought he was in perfect control of the situation, although in reality he was totally panicked and was completely outraged at the fall of his plans. Question now, kill later. You see? Anyway, that's what I had in mind while I wrote it.

Speaking of out of character, is Mrs. Weasley...? Lol, nevermind...