A/N: Thanks again to all those who read and those who reviewed. LadyNightSky, Ace Ryn Knight, PotterPhan21

And to answer LadyNightSky's question, yes, they are going to read all of the books, but I'll only go into detail their reactions reading the ones that would give them information about themselves like the first, third and fifth books. The others they'll read but I won't go too much into them.

Okay Thank Yous and Q and A over. Now enjoy!

Sirius Black discovered that dogs dream in black and white. It was a very strange sensation for him to be dreaming the way dogs did but to be dreaming about human things. His dream, besides that, was nothing particularly special or troubling.

He was back in Hogwarts with the sensation of having completed a very long journey. He wasn't sure if his friends were there with him and he found himself unable to look to see if they were, and strangely not caring if they were. The halls of the school were crowded with students scuffling about chaotically while changing classes, and there was a tumult of disorganized sound as they all carried on conversations amongst themselves, the myriad of voices mixing to sound like an alien language. He walked casually down the hallway, preparing to slip by the crowds of students, when he was spotted.

A girl with long hair that fell gracefully in ringlets and almond-shaped eyes that he had a strong feeling were amber, looked up and recognized him, her attractive face full of excited shock. "Sirius is back!" she shrieked, and the noise in the hall paused for half a second as everyone looked up at him, open-mouthed. Then they burst into excited shouts, all of the voices saying excited words welcoming him back. A group of girls smiling abashedly gathered around him, their eyes scanning him, grateful that he had returned.

"Where were you?" cooed one of the girls who then flipped her luminous black hair over her shoulder.

"You'll never believe me," he said smiling, enjoying every minute of the attention he was being given by the girls.

"Oh, come on," said another, "We'll believe you." She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"If you must know," he said emphatically, his face covered with a coy grin, "I was in the future."

The girls gasped collectively. "The future!" exclaimed one, "Oh, how scary!"

"How ever did you manage?" asked the girl who had batted her eyelashes, "I would have died!"

He shrugged. "It wasn't frightening at all. I met my future self and he was even cooler than I was now," he said, "If you can believe it."

"Oh Sirius!" said one girl, leaning against him, "Cooler than now?"

"Yes," he responded. He tried to reach out and put his arm around her, but he found that he couldn't move his arm.

"How were you cooler?" asked the girl with the dark hair critically, "What did you do?"

"Well," he said smugly, "If you must know…" He then broke into a long explanation of the cool things his future self had done, or at least what he dreamed his future self had done. The girls listened with graceful adoration to his list of dream accomplishments and fawned over him continuously.

The black dog's legs twitched happily as it sleep soundly on the cement which only a dog would find comfortable, under the park bench.

Remus Lupin managed to fall asleep despite the fact that he was sitting up rigidly on the extremely uncomfortable park bench and his shoulder was being painfully crushed by the heavy sleeping head of one James Potter. Through his uncomfortable sleep, he remarkably managed to dream.

He was standing in front of a familiar stone gargoyle, holding an ancient book whose leather-bound cover was worn and slowly seeming to deteriorate. Though the book was extremely large, it did not seem heavy to him and was in fact, very easy to carry. He did not linger on the peculiarity of the weight of the book, but immediately began to examine the gargoyle and determine where he had seen it before. He glanced around; seeming to suddenly realize that there was a winding hallway around him. He understood immediately when he recognized the hallway, where he was and racked his brain fruitlessly for the password to open the statue in front of him. He was barely able to think; his brain felt as if it had turned into slush, which annoyed him greatly. He tapped the statue impatiently which his foot and he stood back amazedly as it slowly opened to reveal a winding staircase. He knew where it would lead.

He did not remember taking all of the stairs but he found himself, nonetheless, in the office of Albus Dumbledore. The room, which was normally cluttered with objects of a magical nature, now strangely seemed to be a blur. The only thing that seemed to be in perfect focus was the aged man and the desk he sat behind.

"Hello Remus," the man said plainly, looking up at him from behind his half-moon glasses, "What brings you to my office?"

Honestly, he did not know why he was here, but he knew that he had some sort of question to ask him, though he could not remember what it was.

"I expect you would like some advice while in your current predicament."

He nodded, suddenly realizing his question.

"You'll find," Dumbledore continued, looking over his desk at the book lying on Remus's lap, "That reading will do little to solve your problems. In fact, I believe it will cause entirely new ones that are much more difficult to solve."

Remus looked back down at the book and found it was not the ancient tome he remembered having while he was in front of the gargoyle, but it was now the paperback he had examined at the bookstore. He change was unremarkable to him.

"Finding the answers to your predicament will prove very difficult. You are right to believe it must be done, but do not worry if the answers come slowly. If they come at all, they will come in time. And never believe that you are searching alone. Your friends may not seem to be focused on finding answers, but they will prove to be more useful than you believe. Not all of them are reacting to this new information in the same way that you are. They all have different thoughts as to what this means to them." Dumbledore seemed to be finished with what he needed to tell Remus, for he looked down at his desk and began to scribble something on a piece of parchment, no longer seeming to notice that Remus was there.

"Do you know we are gone?" Remus had been silent but attentive through out this, but had decided now to ask the pressing question that was on his mind. Dumbledore did not look up though, and continued scribbling as if he had not heard anything. Suddenly Remus's hands brushed against the book, which was once again withered and ancient, and the room and Dumbledore seemed to whirl away. He was carried away into darkness, his pressing question not answered.

Peter Pettigrew was running a race. He was not sure if he was a rat or a boy, but he was running away from something through a maze of trees that seemed to stretch forever. He wanted to leave. He wanted to go home, but he could not find his way. The tree-maze seemed to go on forever and every turn he took seemed to send him deeper and deeper into its depths, confusing him more and more. He found a newspaper scattered on the floor and picked it up. The date across the top confused him, and then the maze changed shape, the path ahead of him splitting in two directions. He took a step sheepishly forward, whimpering, and wondering how he would get out of the ungodly maze of trees that got increasingly difficult no matter what he did. A map would help him, he decided, a map would take away the confusion and tell him where he was. He ran blindly through the paths in the trees, not knowing where he was going, searching only for the map. Without even trying, he picked up a book and was about to examine it when it was pulled out of his hands. He looked around frantically for where it had gone, but could not find it. He gave up and took several moments to remember what else he had been looking for. A map. That's right, a map. He scrambled about to find it and tripped in the encroaching darkness. He stood up, wiping the dirt from his face, trying to calm his manic heart when he kicked something in the darkness. Fumbling for it, he held it in his hands and examined it. A map! Quickly he tore it open, his trembling hands having difficultly opening it properly. In the fading light, he stared at the map blankly, not knowing exactly how to read it. A voice he knew somehow told him all he needed to know. There was nothing he knew on the map. He still did not know where he was. The maze shifted again and the paths in front of him multiplied rapidly. Too quickly were the paths forming in front of him and too many new ways to go showed themselves that he felt dizzy, falling to his feet on the ground. Where were his friends? He thought frantically, they would know what was happening. But now even they didn't know, he thought fearfully. What was going on that they didn't even know what was happening? How was he to get out of this maze and find his way home?

As a rat in a linty pocket, he fidgeted in anxiousness, sleeping, but so strongly affected by his dream that he shivered uncontrollably, more afraid than he ever had been.

James Potter shifted needlessly in his sleep, trying to rid himself of the discomfort that resulted from lying on a thin shoulder. Half-asleep, he groaned, wanting nothing more than to fall into a deeper sleep. Craning his neck, he finally found himself a slightly more comfortable position on his friend's shoulder, which allowed him to fall into a fitful sleep. During this labored sleep, he found himself dreaming wearily, the sort of half-awake dreams that were especially impressionable on the one who dreamt them.

He was back in the darkened forest where they all had awoken, but now he could see well enough into the distance. There was nothing standing above the trees, no majestic castle cutting through the sky. His heart skipped a beat and he began to run frantically. He ran towards the edge of the forest, trying to reach where the castle should have stood, but then he found himself in a bookstore which was vaguely familiar to him. The store was filled almost to its capacity of people, but he could not see the crowds clearly; they were all multi-colored blurs which sped by recklessly before he could even identify that they were human.

But suddenly, standing in the middle of the fast-moving crowd was a girl he had met before. He remembered her standing in this exact place in the bookstore, but he did not remember why he should know her or what she was doing there.

"What are you doing here?" the girl asked him, "You don't belong here."

How did she know that he came from the past? How did she know that he was a wizard?

"You don't know what these are," she continued, holding up a book. He squinted but he could not read the cover. "Everyone knows what these are. You must be from somewhere else."

He opened his mouth to protest but she and the bookstore was gone. He was in the park, sitting on a bench next to a sleeping Remus with a floating newspaper charmed to cover their faces. Sirius slept as a dog on the floor and he distantly remembered that Peter was sleeping in his pocket. He stood up slowly, being careful not to disturb him.

"Do your mothers' know where you are?"

He turned around and the woman who had driven them here stood in the park, watching him carefully, seeming to float in the air like a ghost. He gasped, almost thinking she was one, but then realized that she was slightly more solid than a ghost would be.

"Do your mothers' know where you are?"

He opened his mouth to answer her but found he couldn't talk.

"Will you ever get back to tell them?"

He tried to speak again but he found that his throat had swollen shut. She drifted towards him and his heart beat wildly, afraid of her for a reason he could not quite understand.

"You didn't know what the town was called," she said, drifting closer and closer to him. He couldn't move out of her way. "You don't belong here." Closer. Closer. He was terrified, he wanted to move, he wanted to scream. But he couldn't.

"You don't belong here and you won't get back."

Closer. Closer.

"You don't fit here. You can't go there."

He held his breath as she stood right in front of him, inches from his nose. She was a ghost, he could see right through her but yet he could see nothing but her.

"Hogwarts is gone and you don't belong here."

A spectral hand reached out to touch him.

His eyes flew open but he found he couldn't scream.