Thank you, to everyone who has reviewed. In response to some reviews I would only like to say that this is my very first attempt at writing and posting a story. I am learning like everyone else and having the reviews helps in this process. I understand chapters can be combined and other features can be used to clean up a story but I have not learned them…yet.

I have been using the reviews to help direct the story and get a better idea of how the readers would like to see it. Some people prefer pure angst or feeling pieces where there is little plot but a lot of character introspection, while others prefer a heavy plotline. I have prepared both but am using you good people to steer me in what I actually post.

Again, thanks for taking the time out to read this story and extra special thanks to those who review! Cheers.

The next day I was flipping through the photo album Hagrid had given me my first year at Hogwarts. I was staring at the pictures of my parents and the occasional shot of my recently departed godfather. No matter what I told myself in an attempt to abandon the ill feelings towards my parents that continued to linger these past few months, I was still angry with them for leaving me stranded. I know it wasn't their fault but a part of me resents the fact they consciously acted in a manner that would ensure my current state… which in their defense, is alive.

I was brought out of my revere by Hermione's soft and always concerned voice. "What are you thinking about?"

"My parent's sacrifice, I know it's terrible and ungrateful of me but I'm angry with them." I'm not normally this open but I have come to realize that Hermione is the one person in the world who has never judged me. Looking back through our friendship it occurred to me that she is and always has been my wendybird. I thought once of sharing this with her, knowing only she would understand the muggle reference to Peter Pan, but decided against it knowing it would make Ron uncomfortable if he ever got wind of it. He wouldn't understand the significance of the girl-bird who was shot down by the very lost boys who she would soon befriend and care for, as their mother, and in the end rescue all but one from never growing up.

"Is it wrong that I can't seem to forgive their decision even when I understand and appreciate it?"

"It's not wrong but maybe you should consider the benefits of it more." She being a bit enigmatic and I realize this means she has something she really wants to say but is nervous it maybe out of bounds.

"I don't understand; what benefits? What are you getting at?" I hope I sound open to what she is about to lay on me.

"Forgiveness, Harry, is very powerful and quite liberating. It has a natural restorative essence. In my opinion, it is more powerful than magic. Think about it, everyone has the capacity to forgive, even muggles, but most of us are too frightened to utilize it because it only works if you really mean it."

"Do you think everyone deserves forgiveness? I mean, aren't certain transgressions too awesome?"

"All I know for certain, although having never been put in the position that would require me to grant absolution for someone who transgressed so significantly against me, is that granting forgiveness allows you to take back the control that you lose when someone does something horrible to you or those you care for. We are all victims of this world but sometimes it's hard to see the scars of another when we are blinded by our own."

"So, if we can see past our own pain and look deeper at those who transgress against us we may be able to forgive them and thus restore the balance?"

"I honestly don't know if that is true, it's only a philosophical theory. Forgiveness may be more powerful than magic but it is far less precise. You must realize while your mother knew she was leaving you alone in this world she did not, at least it was not her intention to, abandon you. Same for your father, his actions were intended to give you and your mother a greater chance for survival, but sometimes the ultimate sacrifice simply isn't enough."

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I spent many days contemplating what Hermione said. Several days before we were to make our traditional journey to Diagon Alley to purchase the necessary new school items, I felt an intense need to know more about maternal sacrifices.

"Moony, I need some help." I had caught Lupin off guard but I could see he was not at all disappointed I chose to come to him.

"Certainly, Harry, take a seat." I can tell he is a bit nervous, this being the first time I've cashed in on our new arraignment.

"Don't get too excited. I just need help contacting Dumbledore. It's urgent I speak to him. It concerns the prophecy to some extent."

"What exactly do you know about the prophecy?" Lupin looks at me as though I know something he doesn't.

"More than you. Will you help me?"

"What do you know?"

"Everything, but I'm not getting into it now or probably ever. Will you still help me?"

After a long drawn out sigh Lupin looks me in the eye and assures me he will make the necessary arraignments.

Lupin was true to his word and not two days passed before I found myself staring face to face with my headmaster. The meeting was private, no invitations were granted to outsiders. It was just too personal. I knew Hermione understood and would make Ron see sense.

Dumbledore and I took up residence in Sirius's old bedroom for an entire day. After the sun had been set for several hours we adjourned and I made my way down to the kitchen for my first meal of the day. All eyes were on me as I took a plate from Mrs. Weasley and began to eat.

"Well? What happened?" Ron seemed to feel he was entitled to details after spending the day excluded from all the excitement.

"We talked. And now I have a lot to think about." With that I headed up stairs to get some much needed sleep. I knew my friends were disappointed I didn't divulge my conversation with them but I knew they could never understand why I spent the entire day discussing sacrifices with the greatest wizard alive; they still didn't know about the prophecy.

The morning I awoke, on the day we all would be going to Diagon Alley, I felt different. Not bad or ill but calmer than I had been in a long while. The calm, oddly enough, was quite disconcerting. I decided to ignore it and just be pleased I was experiencing it.

The calm disappeared however as soon as I saw Malfoy senior sitting at a far table in the Three Broomsticks. Was I hallucinating or wasn't he supposed to be in prison?

"What the hell is he doing here?" Ron was livid. Luckily he was expressing everything I was feeling but couldn't, seeing as how I was still diagnosing myself for lingering psychoses. But I quickly discarded the idea I was touched in the head as Ron and I would have had to being sharing the same hallucination and that didn't seem probable.

I looked around and saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley herding all her children out of the pub. Mr. Weasley grasped my shoulder in an attempt to usher me out but I stood rooted to the ground. Something had just occurred to me. Something that had been swimming around in my head for days now, ever since I had the marathon conversation with Dumbledore. I walked with purpose over to elder Malfoy and his party. The calm I felt that morning came back but in waves and I felt certain it was a sign what I was about to do was right.

"Tell him I'm ready." Malfoy senior stares hard at me in response.

"Are you saying…" He can't quite find the words and to be honest neither can I, so I just nod. "Where and when," he asked me most excitedly.

"Tell him to go back to the beginning and he'll know when," I reply cryptically.

"The beginning? Godric's Hollow? Potter that is so unoriginal." He frays disappointment.

"That's the middle; I said the beginning. Just tell him I'm ready." Then I walked away.

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St. Jerome Emiliani's Hospital was located in the outskirts of London; I say was, because it no longer houses the hundreds of women who went there to give birth to unwanted babies. The dank and corrupted building, where today addicts come to enjoy a quick fix, was the location where Tom Riddle was born and orphaned in the same evening. It was also destined to be the same location Tom Riddle would repent and receive his final reprisal. Like all good stories ours was circular and would end where started.

To be continued.