A/N: HELLO EVERYONE! I'M BACK! Just gonna put the Disclaimer here to get it over with.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER, ONLY THERESA WALSH/WRIGHT (that will make more sense once chapter 4 comes out). IF I DID I WOULD DIE OF HAPPINESS AND THEREFORE BE UNABLE TO WRITE THIS FANFICTION BECAUSE I WAS DEAD.

Chapter 2: The letter

17 year old Tess, 1991

With a crack I am whisked away from just outside the grounds of Hogwarts to a small street lined with cookie cutter houses and perfectly green lawns. No one would have guessed that people so abnormal could have been living here, but that was my family. Me, my dad, and my mom. We lived here our whole lives and no one ever even suspected us to be wizards, or even different from anyone else, but boy were they wrong.

I slowly walk up the street, taking in the familiar scent of freshly mowed grass and warm cookies, baking over at our neighbor, Mrs. Coughlin's house. Facing the blue house with black shutters I take a deep breath and start up the front steps.

'It's now or never.' I think to myself as I stand at the door, a letter clutched tightly in my hand.

'Just put the letter through and it will all be over.' My mind tells me.

I take the letter and push it through the mail slot on the front door and run away before I can change my mind. I slow down when I get to the end of the street and I take a deep breath.

'It's over now. It's all over.' I repeat in my head, so I don't go running back into the house and stealing the letter from my eleven year old hands.

'It's over. It's done. There's no turning back now.'

11 year old Tess, 1991

I carefully examined the package that was slipped through the door.

'It's addressed to me.' I thought in wonder. I take the letter opener from the desk in the study and slit open the parcel. Inside there was a golden chain with some kind of hourglass charm attached to it. There was also a letter. I judiciously unfolded the letter and scanned through it; the message said:

Dearest Tess,

I hope you can forgive me for putting this terrible burden on your shoulders. I know by now that you have gotten your Hogwarts letter and you know you are a witch. You have also been chosen for a special mission; you are to go back in time and right a wrong. The other item in this package is no ordinary necklace, it is a Time Turner. Turning the hourglass a certain number of times in a certain direction will send you forward or backwards in time, so be very careful with it. You must turn the hourglass 19 times to the left when you get to Diagon Alley, make sure to do it before midnight on the 1st of August; your father already knows this. Your supply list has also been switched so that it corresponds with the year you must go to. When you get to Kings Cross station there will be a wizard wearing all black with a white rose in his front right shirt pocket, holding up a sign that reads "Thorton". Don't trust anyone except them, and even they cannot be completely trusted. They will explain what I cannot and will get you settled in. You must also attend a training session with them at least once a week so you can maintain a healthy, physically capable body and additional spell knowledge so you can be ready for any oncoming battles.

You are smart Tess, you can do this. Be safe.

With utmost love,

Annabelle Thorton Walsh

I smile at the letter and my mom's familiar neat writing. At the bottom of the letter there is a post script scribbled out in a rushed scrawl.

P.S Your mother didn't die in the building fire on Craven Street, she was killed by Voldemort. Thought you should know before you go back in time

I take another look at that necklace in the package; I had no idea how much power it held, but now am examining it closely in my fingers. I know better than to turn the hourglass, also I don't want to go anywhere in time just yet. Though it is beautiful, with that golden chain that sparkles in the sun and the pure white sand running through the clear glass. I take the shimmering trinket and place it around my neck before running over to the bottom of the stairs.

"Dad?" I call.
My father, Martin Walsh, rounds the corner and bounds down the stairs.
"Yes, darling?" He asks.
"Did you know about this?" I say and shove the letter under his nose.
He takes the note from my hands and as his eyes scan the page his face got pale. When he finishes he just nods mutely, not able to look me in the eyes.
"And you didn't think to tell me until now?" I inquire.
"Honey, there was so many -"
"Don't "honey" me. If you're going to explain yourself, you're not going to sugar coat it, I can take it straight, and it's not really like I have a choice now, do I?" I cut him off, not so silently fuming.
A small smile plays at my father's lips
"Your temper reminds me so much of your mother."
"Please, don't bring mom into this... Wait, on second thought, let's bring mom into this, you always said mom died in the fire on Craven Street, but apparently she was killed by some psycho bastard named Voldemort. You LIED." I raise my voice with each word. How could he, keep a secret like this and not even think to tell me? On something as important as my own mother! And there he was to days ago saying how 'Honesty is the best policy'.
My father gasps.
"Theresa Annabelle Walsh! You do not speak that way in this household! And no, I did not lie, your mother did die in the fire on Craven Street, but the fire was started by He-who-must-not-be-named's followers."
"'He-who-must-not-be-named'? Why not just call him by his name, Voldemort?" I ask. Why would someone's name be so scary? It's not like the Joker is called 'You-Know-Who'.
My father winces.
"Because names are powerful things, Theresa. You can't just walk around using His name like it's no big deal."
"Oh, really?" I ask, allowing my anger at my father fill up inside me. "Voldemort. Voldemort. Voldemort. Voldemort. Voldemort. Voldemort. I haven't been struck by lightning? Gasp. It must be a miracle." I taunt.
"Theresa, I will not discuss this with you if you are acting like a child." My father grumbles.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I realized how irrational I was being. We just, never talk about mom. Whenever she comes up in conversation, it just gets sad and awkward. I think I'm more mad at the world for taking her in the first place, more than my dad not talking about it. I am still angry at him, either way, but I should at least try to let my dad explain himself.
"I'm sorry. It's just a lot to process." I apologize "I should at least let you explain."
"Thank you." My father exhales.
"This group you have been recruited for, you don't get to choose if you want to join or not, if you refuse then you will forcibly be taken to your assignment by another member of the group with no means to get back to your original life. This group has always gone to the Thortons, your mother's maiden name, because they are more influential than other people, for some reason unknown to me. I think it is because of their pure blood and powerful magic. They skip every generation, and we knew that if we had a child they would be left to this fate. We were extremely careful, but one thing led to another and we had you." He explains.
"Okaaaaaaay, you don't have to go into detail on that last part. But are you saying that I'm a mistake?" I ask, now feeling confused, betrayed, and a little grossed out. Well, a lot grossed out, but more confused and betrayed. My own father was saying that I wasn't supposed to exist, how's that for an esteem booster.
"No, no, you weren't a mistake. Your aunt, Dahlia, she had a miscarriage, and she was your mom's only sibling and we knew we had to carry on the Thorton family line, not to mention both of us wanted to have children." He continues.
"Oh," I start, not exactly sure how to formulate my next thought.
"So, now you're saying I was only born because this group needed more "minions" to do their bidding? That I'm just some tool that they can use at their disposal? That the deciding factor was you and mom both wanted to get laid?" I finally ask, when his words sink in. He is really not doing anything to amend the situation. If anything, I'm only getting more mad and confused.

"No, of course not! And Theresa I will ask you again to mind your language. Your mother and I both wanted a child to care for, because we knew that both of us would like to be parents. You know your mother and I have loved you since before the day you were born" My father says.
"We didn't know when you would get recruited; your grandmother wasn't called until she had both your mother and your aunt. Your mother and I, we promised we would tell you everything on your 17th birthday. I had no idea that they were recruiting so early, there must be some dire circumstances." He finishes.

I'm silent for a moment, again unsure of what to say. I know that I am taking my father's words out of context, but I am absolutely horrible when I'm mad.
"Do you have any more questions?" He asks.
I shake my head, now slightly dazed, as reality came crashing down. I am being taken from my family and friends and everything I know. Who the hell do these people think they are, tearing people away from their lives for their own personal benefit?
"Good. Now let's ..." My father starts.
"Wait." I cut in. "I actually do have a question. What is the name of this group?"
"The Manipulators Cult." He answers.
The Manipulators Cult, huh? Well if I ever meet the leader of this 'Manipulators Cult', I will punch them straight in the face.
"If that's all, then I think we should head to Diagon Alley." My dad says.
"Okay." I agree and grab my Hogwarts letter, a jumper and a pair of shoes. I open the front door and walk to the car, unceremoniously throwing myself into shotgun. My father climbs in on the driver's side and we set off to the innards of London. At the first stoplight I can't help but express my feelings.
"I still can't believe you didn't tell me until now."
My father closes his eyes and puts a hand on the bridge of his nose before sighing, clearly exasperated.
"Theresa, can we just try to have a nice day in London? We will talk about this later."
"Um, no we can't because I have to leave to 1972 by midnight tonight. Kind of in a time crunch." I say.
"We'll go to Fortescue's and talk more there." My father answers. "For now, let's not talk about it. If that is all the conversation you can think of then I am perfectly content with not talking at all."
I stay silent for the rest of the ride, left to brood with my own thoughts, until my father tells me that we have arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.

A/N: And that is chapter two, I hope everyone enjoyed. I know, I took FOREVER to update, but I had rewritten this chapter just about a thousand times before I actually liked how it sounded. At first it was just going to be a filler type chapter, but I like this version much better, it gives you more information about the storyline and about Theresa's personality. Also, sorry for the changes in formatting throughout the chapter, I was switching between writing this on the computer in Word and on my tablet in a notes app.

Also, thank you to everyone who followed, favorite, and reviewed on the first chapter. It means so much to me that you are liking this story. And now I need to give review shout outs when necessary.

greenpineapple: AWWW, you are just about the best unofficial beta reader a girl could have. Thanks for the support! Oh, and, uh, about updating quickly *looks around guiltily* hehe, sorry.

MissSlythedor: Never fear, MissSlythedor, I am not giving up on this story! Leave it for exceptionally long periods of time and then apologize profusely for being so late, maybe, but never abandon it. It's like my child, I could never leave it forever. Oh, I am going to make a horrible mother.

Again I hope you all enjoyed! Don't forget to review! Remember, constructive criticism is welcome.

~BecauseImClever12