Author's Note: Chapter 2 is here already! It makes me feel all light and fluffy like pancake batter as I type. (Haha, Wendy.) I'm very excited about this new version. I doubt you're as excited as me, though. Heh. And I'm sure that all of you--or at least Kitty--want me to stop my Author's rant and write. So I shall.

Dedications: Shout outs to more people!

Samantha Ginsburg: Because you wanted a dedication, and I suppose you deserve one. You faithful reader, you.

Cassandra Benson-Abrams: For helping me with my stories in the past, and being a character in this one. glomp

Quinny Porter: I know you'll feel left out without one.

Ayame: For being my first reader of the new version. Love ya!

Chapter Two: Meeting the Parents

(Traveling Through Time. August 1st 1996. Somewhere around 6:33a.m.)

Time traveling had to be one of the weirdest feelings Harry had ever experienced. And that includes the time he ate the Gillyweed, lost all the bones in his right arm, and that cold, drippy, tingly feeling that travels down your spine during the casting of a Disillusionment Charm.

This feeling was a bit different. It was more windy than drippy, cold, or wet. And he had that feeling in his stomach that one usually gets during a rollercoaster ride. Thank goodness he'd left without breakfast, or he might have lost it during his journey. Harry felt like he was sitting on a merry-go-round that had been spun way too fast. He shut his eyes against both the breeze and the motion. While it helped the breeze a bit--besides the fact that he had to hold onto his glasses for dear life--it didn't do much for the motion. It only made him feel sicker. He hoped he got there shortly.

'Oh God…the landing.'

Harry shut his eyes tighter as it got windier and windier. He knew that any minute he'd be in his parents' time, and began to brace himself for an extremely rough landing. The problem was, he didn't know how he was going to land, so picking a good landing technique would be rather difficult. He settled with putting his hands out in front of him to ease his fall.

Good thing, too. That's exactly what he needed. Or else he would have smashed up his face.

Clink. Clank. Cliiiiiink.

Harry's glasses skittered across the road--or at least he thought it was a road--where he had landed. He stood up and checked his belt for his wand. Still there. Unsnapped. Brilliant. Now to find his glasses. He stepped blindly forward, hands out in front of him in case he should trip. Everything was blurry. He couldn't barely make out the road, just a long, black, tar path in front of him. He didn't know how he'd find his glasses.

But then he remembered something. He was in the '80s. Voldemort and his Death Eaters were running rampant. They cast spells every day and weren't being tracked down by the Ministry. If Harry cast one little summoning spell, he doubted they'd do anything about it, much less add to his record. He then realized that he didn't have a record back in the '80s.

'I really need to stop beating myself up over one little hearing,' he chided himself.

"Accio glasses!" he called out, whipping his wand from his belt. He held out his hand expectantly and his glasses glided into it. He put them back on and looked around at his surroundings.

He was standing in the middle of a street. There were a fair amount of trees in this neighborhood, and most were decorated in the spirit of Halloween with little ghosts and streamers and lights hanging from them. The houses were all nearly the same size; two story with big yards and a Tudor décor. They, too, were decorated in the sprit of Halloween; nearly each house had a jack-o-lantern on its stoop, and various other knick-knacks garnishing their front lawns. The wooden street sign at the end of the road told him that he was on Tinker Lane and that the street lying perpendicular to Tinker was Frenchert Lane.

He groaned. His parents could be on any street in Godric's Hollow. What if he didn't find them in time? He didn't think that he could go through seeing them die again. Especially not in person. And then what if Death Eaters ended up coming after him? He did, after all, look a lot like James. What if some of the Death Eaters didn't know about the Potters' demise, and suspected he, Harry, to be his father. If he was killed here, that would be it. He'd be erased from the face of the Earth, and the future would be screwed up too.

As for his parents' address, Harry was almost certain he had heard it before. Or had seen it before. And the street wasn't called Tinker or Frenchert Lane either. Perhaps his memory just needed to be refreshed.

'I'll walk around for a bit and read the street signs. How big can Godric's Hollow be?'

(Godric's Hollow. October 31st 1981. 11:27 p.m.)

And as usual, Harry was indeed, quite wrong. Godric's Hollow was an enormous community. Much bigger than the area he lived in back in 1996. For twenty-seven minutes, according to his watch, he had been wandering around searching the streets for any clue to where his parents might live. Of course he wouldn't be able to see the house, as it was under the Fidelius Charm and wouldn't be visible to him.

Wait…

His parents' house was under the Fidelius Charm…he'd need directions from the secret-keeper…Peter…who was…no where…around…

"DAMNIT!" He yelled out in frustration, slamming his wand to the ground. He sank to the ground, sitting in Indian-style, and rested his head in his hands.

'All this for nothing. Why did Dumbledore bother explaining everything to me, or even give me the time-turner at all, if he didn't give me some kind of slip written by Peter with the address? I mean, he's DUMBLEDORE, for chrissakes! It wouldn't be that hard!'

Rustle. Rustle.

Something was moving around in the bushes. Harry turned around. He could see two shadowy figures across the street, diagonal from him, moving through the bushes. One was tall and thin, and had a long, black cloak wrapped around his shoulders. The other was short and fat, but also had a black cloak on. They were Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew. And quite frankly, Harry had a hard time believing that was Voldemort, as he looked human. But then he remembered that tonight was the night of the event which disfigured him, so of course he would bear a normal appearance.

"This had better be the right place, Peter," threatened Voldemort in his usual, cold way, "you've had far too many mishaps in the past, and I'm afraid that this is your last chance to redeem yourself. Lucius Malfoy nearly lost his life because of you. Mixing up those potions, I ask you. Do you have any idea how valuable Lucius is to me? Any idea at all?"

"Y-yes, Master," stuttered Peter as they walked along. They were getting quite close to Harry, who took the opportunity to slip under his invisibility cloak while Voldemort checked behind him for anyone following them. "Of c-course I know. He's your right hand man, after all."

"Indeed," commented the Dark Lord distractedly. "I wonder what the locals would do if they knew that I was here. Lose in the middle of the night in Godric's Hollow. The biggest all-Wizarding community in the world. The Daily Prophet would have a field day."

Peter noticed the mischievous glint in his Master's eye and trembled slightly. "You're not going to do anything…rash…are you, Master?"

"Rash?" echoed the Dark Lord, turning to face Peter once more, "I never do anything rash, as you call it. I merely have fun."

Peter nodded shakily, although he could hardly call the slaughtering of innocent people, not to mention his friends, whom they were going after at this very moment, fun. But he wanted the power. No, he needed the power. Back in school, everyone had always looked up to James and Sirius. Everything was about them. Why not him? Even Remus got more attention than him, and all he did was study. Peter had tried to be like James and Sirius in hopes that some of their talent might rub off on him, but it had never worked. James never seemed to mind all the attention that Peter showed him, but Sirius could see right through him and snapped at him every time. But now we'll see who holds the power.

"So what's the address again?" asked Voldemort. Now they'd reached where Harry had been standing and he began to follow them, silently creeping along beneath the safety of his invisibility cloak.

"F-fourteen fifty-seven Maple Oak Lane," stuttered Peter. "It's a few blocks over."

Voldemort nodded, but other wise ignored him. Harry, however, needed a way to get to his parents' house. He'd heard the exact address from the secret-keeper himself, so now all he needed was to beat Voldemort to his parents.

He didn't have his broom with him, and it was too noisy anyway, so that was out of the question. But perhaps something else…it was illegal, but enough illegal magic was going to be performed--but not if Harry could stop it--tonight anyway, so he didn't think that one extra spell would have too much of an effect. He was going to make a Portkey. How hard could they be? He had, after all, seen them be made a few times, and knew the incantation. He reached into his robe pocket, desperately searching for anything he could cast the incantation on. He was in luck. He had a Chocolate Frog in his pocket. It must have fallen out of the box Hermione had sent him. Good thing, too.

How can I direct it to my parents' address, he wondered. He remembered that before Fudge made that Portkey back from the Ministry, he had mentioned Hogwarts. Perhaps Harry had to say the address before casting the spell.

"Fourteen fifty-seven Maple Oak Lane," whispered Harry. He said it low in case Voldemort had extremely good hearing. They were only at the end of the street, after all. "Portus!"

Since he was already holding the Chocolate Frog, the Portkey spell took affect immediately. He felt the familiar sensation of a tug on his navel, and he jutted forward into the night.

(Maple Oak Lane. October 31st 1981. 11:33 p.m.)

For the second time that night, Harry was thrown onto the cold pavement. And for the second time that night, his glasses fell off during the impact, and he fetched them with a Summoning Spell for the second time as well.

He picked up the Invisibility Cloak from the ground, as it too had fallen off during the impact, and slung it over his shoulders in case Voldemort and Peter were quicker walkers than he imagined. Although it seemed like he was nearly a mile ahead of them, so he didn't worry too much.

But all of that aside. He had to find his parents' house. The mailbox in front of him read "1475" and the one to its right read "1477." So Harry took off to the left, watching the numbers on the mailboxes descend as he ran.

Finally he got to "1459" and stopped running. To its left read "1455." Lily and James's house was somewhere in the middle of these two houses. He shut his eyes and tried to imagine the exact moment when he'd heard Peter reveal the address to his Master. He could see everything up to the exact lighting in the street. He imagined Peter's high-pitched, nervous voice as he said, "F-fourteen fifty-seven Maple Oak Lane."

Right as Peter--the Peter Harry'd imagined--said the address, a door with a grinning pumpkin face popped out of nowhere from between numbers fourteen fifty-nine and fourteen fifty-five, followed by its walls and windows. Just as it was when he'd been to Grimmauld Place with the Advance Guard, it seemed that the houses on either side didn't feel a thing as the middle one popped into place. It was a lovely house and looked almost exactly as he had imagined it. Two stories, like most of the others in Godric's Hollow, with a Tudor style décor, and lovely Dutch-type windows with adorable curtains--most likely courtesy of Lily--hanging on the inside. There was also a small garden under the window, which Harry noticed as he made his way up the walk to the front door.

He raised his hand to knock, but quickly withdrew it. What would he say to them? That he's their son from the future and he's here to take them back with him?

It would have to do.

Knock. Knock.

Nervous muttering came from inside. Harry could barely make any of it out, but he thought he heard, "James! What was that?" from his mother.

"I don't know, Lily," he said back, sounding equally concerned. "I think someone's knocking."

Harry knocked again, just to let them know that he was, in fact, there.

"There it was again, James!" fretted Lily. "Give me the baby! We need to go!"

"It's probably Dumbledore or something," said James. "Stop worrying."

The doorknob twisted and the door swung open. Harry was face-to-face with his father. They just stared at each other for a moment. Lily was standing behind her husband, holding baby Harry in her arms.

"Who are you?" said James bluntly, staring curiously at Harry. Lily was gaping at him from her position behind James. Baby Harry was just trying to burrow into her shirt.

"There's no time for that," said Harry, stepping slightly forward. James stepped back. "Voldemort is on his way. Peter's with him. We need to go!" Harry stepped inside the house and James shut the door. His parents turned to face him.

"Go where?" asked Lily, clutching baby Harry a little closer.

"We have to go back to my time," said Harry. "Hurry, they're on the way. We need to go." He gave them anxious looks

"Your time?" echoed his father. "And when is that?"

"1996. But we have to go!"

"Who ARE you?" questioned Lily impatiently. "Are you related to James? You sure look like him."

"I guess you could say that," shrugged Harry.

"What do you mean?"

Harry sighed. "Alright. That baby you're holding"--he pointed at him--"is me. I'm your son. I've come to save you."

James raised an eyebrow. "Save us from what?"

"Voldemort!" cried Harry, exasperated. "Now we have to go!"

"How?" asked Lily. As much as he loved them, his parents were annoying him with all of these questions.

"I have a time-turner," said Harry, gesturing to the small hourglass around his neck. "But it's different than the ones you're used to. He'll be here soon. We have to be gone before he arrives."

"But what did he do to us?" asked Lily. "Are we…dead?"

"You will be in twenty minutes!" said Harry, surprising himself on not growing weepy for once. "See this scar?" He touched it. "This is from him! He tried to kill me once he finished with you two." Lily clutched her baby closer. "But he couldn't. And his curse came back at him and nearly killed him. It only left a mark on me."

Lily and James grew silent. "We can't leave just yet, though," said his father.

"Why not? Do you want to be killed?"

"Of course not," he said waspishly, "but I think I know how we can pull this off."

"Pull WHAT off?"

"Well," James had a mischievous glint in his eyes, one Harry assumed was similar to his school days, "I've got a plan. You know the shielding spell, right, Harry?"

"Yeah," he answered, still confused.

"That's all we'll need."

(Fourteen fifty-seven Maple Oak Lane. October 31st 1981. 11:44 p.m.)

Their plan was set. And Harry had to admit that his dad was pretty good with short notice plans. Heck, plans in general. Harry had never really had the passion for pranks as his dad had, nor did he think everything through before acting, and would never have thought that leaving like this would affect the future.

The shielding charm that James had mentioned was a very powerful one. It was the same one that protected Voldemort's shield. The shield he'd used to block Dumbledore's killing spells at the Ministry. It could also be used on humans, and that was their plan. It was completely invisible and couldn't be detected by any spells or charms. That was why it was ideal.

Harry had cast the spell on both of his parents--since you couldn't cast it upon yourself--and James, in turn, had cast it upon Harry. After much coaxing from both her husband and her son, Lily handed baby Harry over to older Harry and he took him upstairs.

"Shh," said Harry when his younger self began to whine. "I'm going to put you in your crib."

And that he did.

"Protego Extramus!" A thin, green ray of light erupted from the end of his wand and surrounded the crib completely. Baby Harry stood up, his little hands on the railing of the crib, and he looked at his older self with big, watery eyes.

"Mummy!" he wailed. "Mummy!"

Harry felt bad for the baby, and picked him up to comfort him. He kissed his forehead. "Mummy's downstairs. She'll see you in a few minutes. Be good." He unwrapped and handed him the Chocolate Frog. Baby Harry took it happily and laid back down, munching on his treat.

The older Harry walked out of the room and gave his parents the signal, which was a wave of his wand. Gold and red sparkles shot out of it. He had to be more careful. He did, after all, have to wait in the closet in the upstairs bedroom while Voldemort was there. Harry had to protect his younger self from actual death. He needed the scar, which the barrier would provide without Lily's sacrifice, as it absorbed nearly all of the spell, and its remnants would be enough to leave a lasting mark on the child. And what didn't leave the mark would bounce back at Voldemort, ensuring his near-death experience.

Harry got into the closet in baby Harry's room and shut the door nearly all the way. He left a crack of it open so he could watch.

(Downstairs. Fourteen fifty-seven Maple Oak Lane. October 31st 1981. 11:56 p.m.)

"I'm scared, James," said Lily, snuggling up to him on the couch. "I want my baby. What if he gets hurt?"

James kissed her cheek. "Just do what Harry and I told you. In a half hour, you'll be glad you did. We'll be safe and so will the baby. Don't move a muscle after he--"

BOOM!

Lily whimpered. James shushed her. Voldemort was outside their door. After the dust cleared from his first blow, James could see that the front door had a very large crack in it from where the wood had split.

"Go, Lily," he hissed, "it looks too suspicious with both of us here."

"No!" he could see tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm not leaving you!"

"Honey, I'll be fine. That's why we have the shielding spells."

BOOM!

This time, the door gave way. They could clearly see Voldemort, tall, thin, and menacing, in their doorway. Peter had been made to wait out near the mailbox, in case anyone came along.

"Finally I've caught you two," said Voldemort, wand out in front of him. He was edging slowly towards the Potters. "Where's your son?"

"He's not here!" yelled Lily.

"Lying woman!" said the Dark Lord. "I'll have to teach your wife a lesson, James." He raised his wand.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Lily waited for the blow to hit her. Her shield nearly completely absorbed it, except for one part. When it hit her, her robes ripped right at the…er…top. And she sank to the ground, looking quite convincing. Even James was fooled for a moment, forcing a genuine look of sadness, love, and anger at her murderer, onto his face. He turned to face his rival, anger in his eyes.

"I'll kill you," said James darkly, stepping forward. He raised his wand, but Voldemort beat him to it and shouted out the deadly incantation. James experienced the same feeling that Lily had, except it didn't matter that his robes had ripped up there.

Voldemort seemed convinced, however, and stepped over to the staircase without a second glance. "Now for their brat," he muttered before ascending.

Harry, the older one, had been sitting in the closet on top of a box big enough to hold a stroller (which, he reminded himself, it probably did) for about ten minutes now. His back was cramping and he was tired.

'Hurry up you barmy git.'

No sooner had Harry thought that, Voldemort burst into the room, wand at the ready. He walked over to the baby's crib and stared down at him.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble, little boy," said Voldemort. "And now it's time to end it! AVADA KEDAVRA!"

What happened next scared Harry so badly that he jumped in surprise and smacked against the door. It opened about a foot wider, and Harry sank further back into the closet. Someone in the room was screaming so loudly that Harry was sure it would render him deaf. Thank God it subsided quickly. A whoosh was heard and a strong breeze raced through the room, upsetting many stuffed animals and the curtains. Harry stepped out of the closet. The room was empty of Voldemort. Their plan had worked. The window was open, making the room even chillier with the October breeze. He shut it and peered into the crib.

Baby Harry was squirming around and whining. His forehead was a little bloody in the spot where the older Harry's scar laid, but otherwise he was unharmed. The baby sat up and flailed his arms. "Daddy!"

Despite the fact that Harry wasn't "daddy" he picked him up and started down the stairs. Lily and James were laying on the living room floor, and both were a little bloody in the chest area, which, in his mother's case, was a very bad thing.

"Mum! Dad! You can get up now!"

Slowly, his parents sat up. "Lily, are you alright?" asked James concernedly when he spotted her cut. Lily looked down at her robes.

"Yeah, I'm fine. He missed."

"Good. Even though I don't think you'll have to feed the baby anymore," said James.

"And why not?" she asked, standing up. James followed suit.

"Because…we're leaving."

"No we're not!" said Lily, growing teary again. "I'm not going to leave my time period. I'm very happy here, and I'm not leaving my baby!" She took him from Harry's arms.

James and Harry exchanged worried glances. "Actually, mum," he said, "you do have to go. All three of us are going."

"You can't make me go, Harry!" she said defensively. "I'm staying right here." She crossed her arms around baby Harry stubbornly and sat down on the couch.

"I've saved you," said Harry, "you can't stay. The future will be changed. You have to come! It was either die, or come with me! You've chosen the latter! Now come on!"

"Wh-what?" she said softly, uncrossing her arms, one still supporting baby Harry, who was, once again, trying to burrow under her shirt, and looked up at her husband and son in turn. Back and forth. "But--"

James sat down next to her. "Please come, Lily. Don't make this harder."

She didn't speak, but she nodded and stood up, fitting baby Harry comfortably into her arms. "Let's go then."

"Er...Lily? Sweetie? You…have to…" he trailed off.

"Have to what, love?" she cuddled baby Harry.

"You have to leave the baby here."

"What?! Never!" She was wide-eyed and frightened looking. She backed away from James and Harry, as she knew they were on the same side.

"Mum, you'll disrupt the time continuum. Can't you make this easier on us? You'll still have me. I am the baby! You won't lose me!" Lily considered this for a moment and stepped forward.

"But why do I have to leave him here?" she whined. "No one will notice if we take him!"

Harry groaned and slapped his forehead. "They WILL notice, because I need to have my life before the Dursleys and everything. We're trying to keep the future the same. If you two come with me, and Hagrid comes to get the baby me in about"--he checked his watch--"ten minutes, everyone will think you're dead, and the rest of our plan will fall into place."

"I have to…leave my baby?"

"Yes, Lily."

"Why, again?"

"LILY!"

She sighed. "Alright." She wrapped him in a blanket that had been laying on the couch, kissed his forehead, and then turned around and buried her face into James's robes.

"Can we go now?" she whispered tearfully. "I…I just want to go."

Without a word, Harry took off the time-turner and strung it around his parents' and his neck. The only sounds that could be heard before they left were the sounds of sirens in the distance, Lily's cries, and baby Harry saying, "Mummy! Mummy!"

And then they were gone.

Gah. I feel so bad for Lily. I wouldn't want to leave my baby either. Anywho, I hope you liked the chappie, and please review!

A big THANK YOU! to my reviewer!

Piper of Locksley--Get off, lezzy! No kisses! Pleh. Anyway, I'm glad you liked the first chappie! Review this one!

Megan