A/N: Hey everyone, again! Sorry I haven't updated for a while and sorry I deleted the old story. I just didn't like Chapters 3 and 4 so I decided to rewrite the whole story. This is my second attempt at a Fanfic, so please R/R!! Plus, I need a beta reader, so if anyone wants to, please email me! Thanks! =)
DISCLAIMER: Okay, let's just get this over with. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Although I wish I did, I do not own any of the characters mentioned in the books. I only own the plot, Lily, and all the others NOT mentioned in the books.

It was the coldest day of December so far and there was a bitter cold whipping in Stan Shunpike's face. But Stan didn't mind; there was talk in the village- talk of things that hadn't been spoken of for two years- and he was willing to risk the wind and cold to hear it, despite his health.

He drug himself to the Hog's Head, where he could rest and have a firewhiskey. He sighed gratefully when he finally saw the peeling letters of the Hog's Head. Inside, there was total silence. He caught the eye of the old bartender, who indicated to a small woman who many were sitting with, listening intently. Stan surveyed the woman as he limped toward her. She was indeed old- she had long white hair and so many wrinkles her face looked like a spiders web- and small, with eyes that made her look like an overgrown bat, and had a shaken expression on her face.

"Go on, Sibyll. Tell us what happened, go on...tell us what you... Saw." A woman urged Professor Trelawney.

Professor Trelawney, of course, had retired from teaching years ago, but she was a Seer, and was treated with much respect throughout the village. Sibyll Trelawney closed her eyes as trying to remember. Stan rolled his eyes. Of course, this was one of her crackpot old prophecies she had made millions of times- of war, of hatred, and of the Potters.

The Potters were a couple only spoke about in reverence or never spoken about at all. Though the tale of Voldemort's tale was intriging, no one wanted to talk about it, as Harry Potter, who defeated Voldemort, disappeared shortly afterwards. Stan shuddered. He hated to even think about it.

Suddenly, she opened her insect-like eyes, and began.

"I...must...have dozed off..." She started in her frail, misty voice, looking at the people around her. Stan snorted derisively. She glared at him and continued, "I was dreaming something unusual, when the dream changed. I saw the Potters, leaving the world we are now, and something...else. I couldn't make out what it was until I saw the jet black hair. It was a child, a child of-"

But that was all the pub needed to start a babble of excited talk.

"I knew it."

"So it's true, there is still an heir..."

Stan sat there, watching people argue and talk in excited tones, until someone whispered in his ear,

"What did I miss?" Stan jumped. There stood a woman with short black hair, grinning.

"Tonks! Wha' are you doing 'ere?"

"What everyone else is doing here," Tonks said impatiently, dumping her bag onto a chair, "I heard that there is one last Potter left, so I came to where I was sure Sibyll would be-a firewhiskey and a gillywater, please, Aberforth." She added to the bartender, who scuttled off to get her order.

"Do you fink it's true? About the Potter kid?" Tonks shrugged.

"Probably. I was talking to Mundungus, who was eavesdropping again and says it's the real article. Trelawney pulled a real one, mate." She pause to take a swig from her tankard.
"Dumbledore's going to have a lot on his plate. With the secret out and all." Stan opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a woman with straggly, sandy hair and protuberant eyes.

"Hello Stan. Hello Tonks," Luna Lovegood said in her husky voice, sitting down with her drink in one hand and a strange orb in the other. Luna Lovegood was an Unspeakable, and very strange. And, in any event, he'd heard stories about her. Stan looked away from the orb. Whatever the orb was, whatever it did, he didn't want anything to do with it.

"Hello, Luna," Tonks said, pulling out the chair next to her. "How is work?"

"Lovely," she said, staring at Trelawney. Stan ignored her and turned to Tonks.

"You fink the Potter's could be alive? 'Cause if the kid's alive..." Tonks shook her head mournfully.

"No. If You-Know-Who didn't kill them, the Death Eaters did the job for him. Honestly, this world that we live in...the Potters were nice, good people, and to think they are dead..."

"What if the Potters weren't dead?" Luna said thoughtfully. Stan jumped. He had completely forgot that Luna was there. Tonks shook her head again.

"How could that be possible, Luna? The Death Eaters killed them. There's no other explanation," Tonks said firmly, as though trying to convince herself as much as anyone. She paused for a moment to blow her nose, in which time Stan checked his watch and yelped. He was fifteen late for his post.

"I better git goin'. I'm late. See you, Tonks. And you, Luna."

"Bye, Stan."

"Goodbye," Luna said, finishing her drink.

And with that, Stan Shunpike trudged out of the pub and into the night, thinking. A Potter...alive. What could it mean? How could Trelawney remember the dream? Stan shook his head disbelievingly. It seemed like a bunch of codswallop to him...but there was still hope...A Potter, alive.

And with these confused thoughts, Stan disapparated, disappearing into the night with a swish of his cloak.