Harry's feet touched ground in the same corridor he'd just departed, hours in the past. Based on the sunlight streaming in through the windows, it was mid-afternoon. "Tempus," he muttered; the time of 4:37 displayed over his head. Roughly two and a half hours to go until Neville was attacked by Pettigrew...but what had Peter been up to prior to that? There was no time to waste.

Harry weighed his options. Damian was his first priority, as he had the Map. Neville was also a concern, but he had plenty of time to warn him off, so he ought to make sure Dahlia was safe as well. "Expecto patronum!" he shouted, summoning his thestral Patronus once more. "Go to my dad and tell him to find Dahlia. Peter Pettigrew will attempt entry into the castle today, likely via the third floor entrance. I'll secure Damian and meet you when I can."

The silver thestral took off, and Harry sprinted in the opposite direction. His first stop was the Great Hall, where he hoped to either find Damian, Cedric, or somebody who could point him in the direction of either. Failing that, he would stand outside the Hufflepuff common room and demand entry until somebody let him in.

Harry skidded into the Great Hall, scanning the tables for any friendly faces. Handfuls of students lounged about the great tables, doing homework, chatting or playing board games. Harry spotted Professor Sprout sipping tea at the high table and ran up to her.

"Professor Sprout!" he panted, out of breath. "I need to find my cousin, Damian Dursley. D'you know where he is?"

"He just got out of my Herbology class an hour ago," said Professor Sprout, looking concerned. "I think he went down to visit Hagrid after. Is everything all right, Mr. Potter?"

But Harry was already off, sprinting back down the center of the Hall, ignoring the snickers and mutterings of students all around him. He didn't care what an odd sight he might be at that moment. His family was in danger, and he would take no risks in ensuring their safety.

He was so consumed with his mission that he failed to notice the boy rounding the corner into the Hall just as he was exiting, causing them to collide and spill onto the stone floor. "Sorry!" Harry groaned, picking himself up and reaching to help the other boy up. He realized with a jolt that it was Neville.

"Everything alright, Harry?" Neville asked, looking alarmed by his appearance. "You look like you've seen a Grim."

"Listen to me, Neville," said Harry gravely, grabbing Neville by the shoulders. "Go back to your common room and stay there until it's safe, d'you hear me? Stay away from the third floor corridor, no matter what you do."

"You're scaring me, Harry," Neville frowned. "What's gotten into you?"

"Peter Pettigrew is going to enter the castle tonight," Harry said. "Hell, he might even be here already. Just please, stay far away from that area and you'll be fine, got it?"

"But how do you know—?" Neville stammered, but Harry was already off sprinting through the great oak doors and onto the grounds. He didn't have time to explain. For all he knew, Damian could be minutes, even seconds away from being apprehended near the Forbidden Forest again.

Harry knew that at that very moment, his past self was in the library with Luna, working on homework that suddenly seemed so very inconsequential. Should he send himself another Patronus to conscript his help and cover more ground? Or would that violate the timeline? Would he have known any of this was happening if he hadn't heard Luna's prophecy in the first place? There were too many risks to attempt it. He pressed onward, only hoping he would be fast enough on his own.

Harry reached Hagrid's hut in record time, pounding on the door. "HAGRID!" he bellowed, banging his fist into the wood over and over. "HAGRID! IT'S AN EMERGENCY!"

"Who's bellowin' at my door?" asked a booming voice; Harry turned to see Hagrid trudging up the hill from the Forest, carrying a large bundle of logs. "Is tha' you, Potter?"

"Hagrid, have you seen Damian today?" Harry asked, running over to the half-giant. "I need to speak with him right away."

"Sure, he's somewhere nearby," Hagrid said, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "I asked 'im to help clean out some o' the thestral pastures, just over yonder." And to Harry's horror, he pointed back towards the Forest he'd just departed.

"You left him in there alone?!" Harry yelped with alarm.

"It's heavily warded against intruders!" Hagrid protested. "An' he's well within shouting distance—"

Harry took off once more, barreling into the Forbidden Forest. How could Hagrid be so stupid? Harry thought in a near-panic. Leaving a vulnerable first-year alone in the Forest? He could already envision the scene ahead of him: Damian, unconscious or badly injured in a pasture, Pettigrew already long gone with his new prize, headed back up to the castle to wreak who knows what havoc…

"DAMIAN!" Harry shouted hoarsely through the trees. "DAMIAN, WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Oi, I'm right here, calm your trousers!" came an annoyed voice from Harry's right. He turned and felt a wave of relief at the sight of Damian, shuffling over to him. "What d'you want?"

"What are you doing out here all by yourself?" Harry demanded, running up to the boy. "Don't you know it's dangerous to be alone?"

"Course, I do, I'm not an idiot," Damian scoffed. "I been using your gift, just like you told me." And he withdrew the Marauder's Map from his pocket, brandishing it for Harry to see.

Harry snatched the Map away from Damian and scanned its contents. He could see his and Damian's dots side by side at one end of the map, with Hagrid not far away at his hut. No Peter Pettigrew in sight. Nor did the man appear anywhere in the castle that Harry could see, as he scanned desperately for clues. To his relief, he saw his father and Dahlia together, headed towards the latter's office, and Neville appeared to have taken his advice and gone back to his common room. Meanwhile, past Harry and Luna were still seated together at the library, none the wiser.

"Good, that's good," Harry sighed with tremendous relief. "But Damian, we need to get you back to Hagrid. It's still dangerous out here tonight."

"Why tonight?" Damian demanded. "You don't think that Pettigrew nutter is gonna show his face again?"

"That's exactly what I think," Harry said solemnly, which caused Damian to go pale. "Stay close to me."

Harry and Damian hurried back to Hagrid's hut, wands drawn and scanning the dark treeline, but fortunately they were still alone. They reached the hut and found Hagrid washing his hands out back. "Hagrid, the school is in danger," Harry called out as they approached. "Can you and Damian hunker down here for the next couple of hours?"

"How d'you reckon?" Hagrid frowned. "Won' he be safer up at the castle?"

"I don't think so," Harry shook his head. Now that he had the Map firmly back in his possession, Damian was no longer in as much danger as he feared. And Pettigrew was soon to be in the castle himself, so there was less of a worry that he would come way out of his way to attack someone down here. "Can you protect him?"

"With my life," Hagrid said resolutely, reaching out to grab Damian's arm. "C'mon, Dursley, let's get inside. I'll put the kettle on."

"I'll let Dumbledore know you're here," Harry promised. "Stay safe, won't you?"

"You're not staying with us?" asked Damian. "Won't you be in danger going back to the castle?"

"I have to check on everyone else," Harry said vaguely. "Too much can still go wrong. I'll explain everything later!" And Harry took off across the grounds once more, checking over his shoulder to ensure that Damian and Hagrid entered the cabin and closed it tightly shut behind them.

Harry passed the Quidditch pitch on his way back to the castle and paused, inspiration striking him once more. "Accio Firebolt!" he bellowed, pointing his wand at the structure. With a loud bang, his broomstick broke free of his confines in the locker room and zoomed towards him, hovering to a halt beside him. This would allow him to cover more ground and reach his destination(s) safely.

Harry mounted his broom, checking the Map one more time. Hagrid and Damian were still completely alone in their corner of the Map, the Potters were safely in James' office, and Neville was in his dorm. Harry figured his best course of action would be to join his father and sister and hunker down with them until the danger passed.

But what if he could make especially sure that the Map was far from Peter's greedy hands? Surely he could hide it somewhere that the man would never be able to find it. If he planned to come after Harry or his family after all, keeping it on his person would pose an additional risk. But where to hide it? Somewhere far from prying eyes, somewhere Peter wouldn't think to look…

And Harry knew at once where to go. He kicked off the ground and shot into the air on his Firebolt, circling the castle. He located the Astronomy Tower and rocketed towards its summit, cresting the turrets and landing atop the observation deck. It was deserted, as expected – lessons had shifted elsewhere since the Tower had been closed for renovations. But Harry's destination wasn't far away, as he leapt from his broom and descended into the Tower towards the seventh floor.

Harry arrived at his intended corridor and paused to check the Map one last time. He was still completely alone...the closest person to him was Filch, several stories below him, far beyond the barricade preventing entry from below. He began to pace before the blank stretch of wall, thinking: I need a place to hide the Map...I need a place to hide the Map…

After his third pass, the door to the Room of Requirement appeared, and Harry rushed inside. He paused, able to hear his heavy footfalls and even his ragged breathing echo through the cavernous space. Where the hell was he? The Room had never created such a vast space for him before, and he felt rather like he'd entered a cathedral-like space similar to the Hall of Prophecy.

"Lumos," Harry muttered, taking in the foreign space for the first time. The Room was loaded with large pile of debris: centuries' worth of students concealing items from the staff. Old books, dressers, and miscellaneous contraband that certainly looked too dangerous to be allowed on campus. The age and state of decay of some of the items told Harry that the Map ought to be safe here, for days, weeks or perhaps centuries. He marched forward to locate a good place to hide it.

Harry heard movement nearby and flinched, wheeling around and pointing his wand at a cluster of pixies emerging from their hiding space, leering at him. Harry kept moving, looking for a spot that was both far from the entrance yet easy to access for future retrieval. Some place nondescript, yet easy to remember when he came back to retrace his steps…

He located a suitable spot soon after, spying a gaudy green dresser halfway up a nearby pile of debris. Some Slytherin's vanity object, no doubt, he thought to himself. Harry began to climb the precarious pile, aiming for a small cabinet just below the dresser. He would quickly stuff the Map inside, then return to the entrance and find his father and Dahlia to wait out the remainder of the evening.

But traversing the pile was easier said than done. He had to choose his foot and handholds carefully, or else risk toppling the entire structure over on top of himself. He stuck his wand between his teeth to make full use of both his hands, searching for the next item to grab a hold of and pull himself up high enough to store the Map in safely.

Harry's hand slipped, and he swore, causing his wand to slip from his mouth and tumble down the mountain of debris, clattering to a halt near ground level. Harry sighed and slid down the pile himself, making his way over to pick up the wand—

"Leave it, Harry."

Harry's blood ran cold at the voice. A light-tipped wand rounded the corner towards him, and Peter Pettigrew emerged from the darkness, eyes alight with malice. Harry froze, his wand just out of reach...he would not be able to reach it before Peter could hex him.

"Hello, Uncle Peter," Harry said, trying to keep his voice neutral. "Having a nice evening?"

"You've no idea how difficult it has been to get into this room," Peter muttered, looking around the cavernous space. "It's taken me all year to manage it."

"You were trying to get in here all along?" asked Harry, bewildered. "I thought you were coming after me!"

"Don't flatter yourself," Peter scoffed. "You were simply in my way. If we hadn't crossed paths that Halloween evening, you would never have been harmed."

He was on his way to the Room of Requirement, Harry realized. And I was on my way out of it. "But...you tried to kill me with that Excavation Curse!" he stammered.

"I was trying to expose the Room, you fool!" snapped Peter. "It would not open for me, and I thought it best to enter by force. And it might have worked, had Snape not shown up at an inopportune moment."

He couldn't get in because I was already inside, Harry realized. How many times had Peter breached the castle and attempted to get into the Room prior to Halloween, only for Harry's usage to prevent him from doing so?

"I couldn't sneak in the same way again, nor was it easy to get back to the Room after the area was sealed shut," said Peter, pacing frantically now as he scanned the piles of rubbish. "So I had to find another way – or person – to get in."

"That's why you attacked Damian," Harry deduced.

"I cared not who he was; he was simply the first student to walk by the Forest," said Pettigrew. "I hoped the Quidditch match would serve as a good distraction to give him a clear path. And if you hadn't interrupted him, he might have made it here unsuspected. But you always happen to be at the right place at the wrong time, don't you, Harry?"

"I have a knack for that," said Harry, slowly inching his way to his left. He could see his wand atop a pile of clutter a few feet away, and if he kept Peter talking long enough, he might be able to dive for it and have a chance to defend himself. "So why did you poison my sister's Kneazle?"

"Those damned cats made it impossible for me to get anywhere near the castle in my rat form," Peter grumbled. "They are unnaturally adept at hunting rodents. So I used that against them, and started capturing rats in the forest and coating their fur with scentless poison before releasing them onto the grounds. That certainly thinned the herd for me."

And you'll have Filch to answer for that someday, Harry thought gravely, remembering the grief upon the caretaker's face when he discovered Mrs. Norris had been killed. "Well, congratulations, it worked," Harry deadpanned. "And now you're here. But why?"

"My Lord told me that if anything ever went wrong, I must retrieve something for him," said Peter, still scanning the piles of discarded items all around him. "Something to help him return to power."

"Why are you still helping him?" asked Harry. "He's got the whole wizarding world against him now. Why not join the right side?"

"The right side?" Peter snapped, his haunted, sunken eyes locking onto Harry's. "The side that belittled me all my life? The side that chucked me in Azkaban without a fair trial? What makes you so sure that your side is the right one?"

"Voldemort is evil," Harry said imploringly. "Surely you must recognize that, Uncle Peter. He doesn't actually think you're important...he's using you."

That was clearly not the right thing to say. "I am the only one who remained loyal to him!" Peter shouted, stamping his foot in a rather petulant display of wounded pride. "I am the one the Dark Lord will reward once I have brought him back to full strength! I am important, and you and Dumbledore are nothing but fleas compared to my great might!"

To Harry, Peter seemed in that moment rather like a child throwing a tantrum. Was that really what this was all about? Was Peter so easily swayed by the first person who came along and lied about respecting him that he actually believed it? Could all of this had been prevented if someone had valued Peter for who he was instead of underestimating him at every turn? It filled Harry with equal measures of pity and disgust.

"I respect you, Uncle Peter," said Harry, trying a different tactic. "And I'm sorry for how my dad and everyone else treated you. That doesn't mean you have to worship a complete monster. You can turn against him now and all will be forgiven."

Peter's face twitched slightly at Harry's apology, but remained twisted in mingled anger and resentment. "I've made my choices," he said, with a practiced indifference that reminded Harry of Damian's defiant attitude. "And I shall live with them. Now I must complete my master's task and locate the—NO!"

Harry had seized his moment; Peter's eyes had wandered off, scanning the Room again, and Harry dove for his wand. He snatched it with the skill of a Seeker and twisted in midair, forming a Shield just in time to block Peter's incoming curse. Harry rolled onto his knees and twirled his wand, causing the towering pile of belongings behind Peter to collapse atop him; Peter spun around to see the incoming debris and swiftly transformed into rat form, scurrying away as it crashed down where he'd been standing a moment before.

"Come back, you coward!" Harry bellowed, giving chase. He rounded a corner, seeing the tiny rat tail disappear into a small opening in the debris. Harry flung a Blasting Curse at it, sending discarded trinkets flying through the air. He plowed through the cascade of falling objects, ignoring the painful thumps to the head he took as he charged after Peter.

Where did he go? Harry thought furiously, scanning the next row of objects. He strained to listen, doing his best to ignore the jangling of tumbling objects from the pile behind him. He heard a rustling of movement to his left and took off after it, desperately searching the darkened room for signs of the rat.

His Seeker skills alerted him to motion in his peripheral vision. He whipped his head around to see Peter in his rat form, clambering up the side of a tall debris pile and over the other side. Harry launched himself after the rat, climbing faster than he deemed safe, nearly slipping and falling multiple times. He reached the summit, pausing briefly to scan the room. He saw no sign of Peter, but the exit was to his left, so he ought to head there and cut the man off. He leapt to slide down the pile—

And a spell hit him straight in the chest in midair. Harry felt his arms and legs snap into place by his side, his spine righting itself like a statue. Body-Bind Curse, Harry realized as he tumbled helplessly down the side of the pile. He took several painful blows to the face and body as he fell head-over-heels down the mountain of debris, eventually landing on his side on the cool ground, contraband raining down upon him from above.

One such object landed directly in front of him, and he could do nothing but stare straight ahead at it, still frozen in place. A silver tiara, encrusted with bright blue diamonds, one that looked strangely familiar. It wasn't until he noticed the inscription along the bottom of the tiara that he recognized it: Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure. The diadem of Ravenclaw – he must have passed its likeness hundreds of times in the common room, atop the marble head of Rowena herself.

"Ah, you've found it," came a surprised voice from nearby. Peter sauntered over and plucked the diadem up off the ground, dusting it off and examining it. "Still in pristine condition. My master will be pleased to learn that it is unharmed. I know not why he seeks the diadem, but he insists it will help him return to full power."

Harry could do nothing but stare at Peter's feet, his body still stuck in its prone position tilted to one side. Peter knelt in front of Harry, wand trained in his face, looking regretful.

"I warned you not to get in my way, Harry," Peter sighed. "There was no need for any of this to happen...oh? What is this?"

Peter approached Harry's stoic form, peering curiously at Harry's neckline. Harry realized with alarm that the Time-Turner around his neck had shifted during the fall, exposing the golden chain to Peter. He was powerless to resist as Peter slowly extricated the chain from Harry's body, exposing the Time-Turner to the dim light. Peter's eyes went wide when he realized what it was.

"Blimey," he breathed, examining the slightly-damaged object. "Is this what I think it is? To think they entrusted one to a teenager...my master will be delighted if I bring this gift to him…"

Harry could say or do nothing, and did his best to express his undying rage through his eyes. Don't you dare take that, he thought helplessly. The idea of Voldemort with a Time-Turner was horrifying – surely the man would find ways to manipulate its powers to gain untold advantages. Yet Harry was powerless to stop Peter from stowing the Time-Turner away in his robes, looking pleased with his haul.

"I'll be taking this back as well," said Peter, brandishing the Marauder's Map in Harry's face; he hadn't even noticed the man take it from him in his despair over the Time-Turner's loss. "Not that I have much use for it anymore, but, well, I did create it after all. I do thank you for returning it to me."

To hell with that, Harry thought, channeling as much hate as possible into his expression to convey his disgust. To think Peter hadn't been after the Map at all...if Harry had just stayed in the future, none of this would have happened. Once again his rash decision-making had cost him dearly.

Peter's expression shifted to something unreadable as he pocketed his three new acquisitions. He kept his wand trained on Harry, and looked suddenly unsure of himself. "My master warned me not to let a single soul know what my mission here was," he muttered. "You have seen me take the diadem. It is regrettable, but...he will be most displeased if I let you live."

Harry realized with alarm that Peter was contemplating killing him, here and now. Peter's wand arm shook as he aimed the weapon at Harry's chest, as though summoning the will to cast the Killing Curse. Please, no, Harry pleaded silently, now trying to convey his desperate desire to live through his eyes. Flashes of his family ran through his mind – James, Lily, Dahlia, Damian, Sirius and Remus – and the thought of losing them all over again made his heart ache with despair.

But Peter seemed to be losing the battle with his own resolve. Slowly his hand dropped to his side, and he looked down at his feet in shame. "I cannot do it," he sighed. "You were too kind to me when I needed a friend. I can't watch the light leave your eyes...it would be a cruelty too many."

Thank you, Harry thought as relief flooded through him. I knew there was still some good in there somewhere.

"The flames will have to take you instead," Peter then muttered, casting an apologetic look at Harry. "I'm sorry, but I can't watch. I promise it will be quick." And Peter scurried away, disappearing around a corner and out of sight.

Harry's mind raced as he remained lying helplessly in place. What did Peter mean? Did he intend to leave Harry here to die? Would he remain frozen here until he died of starvation? That seemed an even worse fate than the Killing Curse. Coward, Harry thought. At least give me the dignity of a quick death.

But a more looming threat quickly emerged. Harry heard a roar in the distance, and an orange glow was cast to the vaulted ceiling from somewhere over the next pile of junk. Harry felt the hairs on his body stand up as the room began to rapidly fill with heat, as though someone had cranked up the temperature several dozen degrees higher.

And Harry soon realized why: a towering pillar of flame was rising in the distance, licking over the tops of distant debris piles. It appeared that the flames were alive somehow; they took the form of serpent heads, ravaging the space and devouring entire mounds of junk in its wake. Fiendfyre, Harry realized, having read about the dangerous Dark magic in his studies. It was unquenchable except by a skilled witch or wizard, and would consume everything in its path until it ran out of fuel. And with centuries of debris scattered about the room, that wouldn't be any time soon.

So this is it, then, Harry thought, watching helplessly as the fiery serpent heads annihilated ever-closer mounds of detritus, growing nearer to him by the second. This is how I die. He was ashamed – he'd failed once again. In moments he would be back before Death, his purpose in life unfulfilled, his quest to defeat the Dark Lord incomplete. He braced himself for the end, watching as the Fiendfyre spread towards him, threatening to engulf him whole…

Then, out of nowhere, two giant, blue serpent heads erupted into view, cutting across the path of the flames. The fire heads roared their displeasure as the newcomers, made of towering columns of water, lashed out at the fire, holding the advancing wall of fire at bay. Harry watched in terror and awe as two figures backed into view, keeping the water serpents active with their wands, fighting back the flames.

"He's here, Albus!" James Potter shouted, turning to see Harry lying on the floor. He muttered the counter-curse, and Harry sat upright, panting from exhaustion (and the stifling heat). "Are you alright, son?"

"Yes, fine," Harry muttered, locating his dropped wand a few feet away and picking it up. Fortunately Peter hadn't thought to take it with him.

"Evacuate the room!" roared Dumbledore, as he alone fought for control with the two water serpents fighting the advancing Fiendfyre. James grabbed Harry's hand and helped him stand upright, looking him dead in the eyes with a ferocious expression.

"You need to get yourself out of here!" James shouted over the roar of battling elements. "Go to your common room and stay there!"

Harry nodded. But just as he was turning to leave, a new arrival caught his and James' attention: a Patronus, soaring over the flames and hovering in the air before them. And when the thestral opened its mouth, it spoke in Harry's voice: "I believe Peter Pettigrew will attempt to breach the castle tonight. Find Dahlia, and I'll find Damian, then we'll meet in the Defense classroom."

The thestral disappeared into silvery wisps. James looked from the vanished creature to Harry, astonished.

"Was that your message?" he asked, bewildered. "But you're here...so where did the Patronus come from…?"

I'm out of time, Harry realized with dread. His past self had just left the library, and within minutes he would encounter Peter and Neville fighting on the third floor. "Neville's in trouble!" he shouted, and began sprinting for the exit. James made to follow, but a fiery serpent head lunged at him, forcing him to rejoin Dumbledore in fighting back the flames.

Harry burst out into the corridor, gratefully sucking in clean air. He took a moment to catch his breath and cough out as much smoke as he could, before taking off again. Peter Pettigrew had to be stopped at all costs...he may not be after anybody he cared about, but he had the Time-Turner, and that was reason enough for alarm. If he escaped the school grounds with it, the war against Voldemort would become that much more difficult to win.

Harry made a bee-line for the third floor, understanding at last that Peter was not after Neville at all, but the one-eyed witch passageway to Hogsmeade. Would Harry make it in time? And would Neville heed his warnings to stay away?

But to his dismay, neither proved true. He rounded the corner to find Neville already slumped on the ground, as numerous professors descended upon the area. Neville's eyes grew wide as he saw Harry sprint up to him.

"Harry?" he asked, bewildered. "But you were just over there...and now you're here…"

"What were you thinking, Neville?" Harry demanded. "I told you to stay away from here!"

Neville looked quite ashamed with himself. "I thought I could take him," he muttered. "You said he would be here, and I wanted to catch him—"

"Dammit, Neville!" Harry groaned. "Why would you put yourself in danger like that?"

"I had your Invisibility Cloak on!" Neville protested, revealing the silvery fabric he was laying on top of. "I thought there was no way he would see me before I could Stun him...but it was like he knew I was there waiting for him!"

Because Peter had the Map open to see him, Harry realized. And Neville had planted himself between the man and his intended escape route...no wonder they'd come to blows.

But if Peter wasn't taking the one-eyed witch's passage after all, where was he now? His next best option was to head to the Entrance Hall and make a break for the boundaries. And with the Headmaster and Defense professor preoccupied with the Fiendfyre in the Astronomy Tower, he would have a clear path…

Harry swore loudly and took off again, sprinting for the nearest stairwell. It can't end like this, he thought miserably. He can't get away with all of this. It's all my fault…

The double oak doors in the Entrance Hall were thrown open when Harry skidded around the corner, and a number of students were milling around it, looking perplexed. "Did a rat just blast the doors open?" Harry heard a Slytherin girl ask her friend, confirming his suspicions. He could only hope he wasn't far behind…

Harry ran through the doors out onto the grounds, cloaked in shadows from the semi-darkness of dusk. He scanned the grass spread out below him, praying that he could spot the rat before it disappeared out of sight. It was bigger than a Snitch, wasn't it? His Seeker skills had never been more critical than right now.

Then Harry heard a fierce yowl from behind him. He turned just in time to see Calvin the Kneazle bearing down on him, murderous intent in its eyes. Harry flinched, but the cat shot between his legs like a rocket, sprinting across the grounds towards the Forbidden Forest. What's gotten into him now? Harry wondered. Still suffering side-effects from the poison?

But Calvin's hunting instincts were true, and a moment later, Harry heard a faint squeak of terror. There was a small pop, and Pettigrew emerged once more down the hill, reverting back to his human form to avoid being mauled. Calvin launched himself at Peter, claws sinking into the man's leg, and Peter yelped in pain, struggling to get the cat off of him.

"PETTIGREW!" Harry bellowed, and he took off after the man. Peter's eyes bulged when he saw Harry sprinting towards him, and with a mighty kick, he sent Calvin sailing through the air, before running desperately for the treeline. Calvin landed on his feet and resumed the chase at once, hissing and spitting angrily at Peter's retreating backside.

Way to go, Calvin, Harry thought proudly as he chased after the two. For the first time in his life he was grateful for the cat's existence: as long as he was involved in the chase, Peter couldn't transform into a rat and evade Harry's notice. He was far too large to hide now, and Harry was faster thanks to his Quidditch training and slimmer figure. He could catch him before he reached the school boundaries to Apparate away.

Peter and Calvin disappeared into the trees, and Harry joined them seconds later, lighting his wand tip to see through the sudden oppressive darkness. He couldn't quite make out Peter due to the dense trees, but he weaved in and out, following the sounds of frantic footsteps and Calvin's angry battle cries. There's no escape, Pettigrew, Harry thought. You're mine now. You'll regret ever coming after me or my loved ones…

Harry launched himself into a clearing, pausing momentarily to catch his breath and strain his ears. Peter and Calvin were nowhere in sight, but he could still hear the Kneazle's yowling somewhere nearby, echoing through the trees. "Hominem revelio," Harry panted; his wand send out a pulse of blue light, and Harry briefly saw Peter's outline illuminated through the trees, running off to his left. Harry turned to resume the chase.

But he suddenly realized how cold it had gotten, his breath suddenly icy and foggy despite the warm June evening. The darkness was closing in on him more than ever, the light on his wand growing dimmer by the second. Harry realized what was happening a moment too late. Dementors, he thought with alarm. He'd completely forgotten they were patrolling the grounds, and they must have arrived to join the hunt themselves.

And he was caught in the crossfire.

Hundreds of dark hooded figures swarmed the sky, descending upon the clearing in droves. Harry panicked, tripping over a root and falling onto his backside, staring up at the fearsome sight. Dementors were no longer his greatest fear, but they continued to terrify him, and he shakily raised his wand, feeling all hope and happiness begin to drain from his body.

"Expecto patronum," he stammered, trying hard to focus on his eleventh birthday. "Expecto...expecto patronum!" Thin white mist began to issue from his wand, but the thestral Patronus did not come forth. The dementors were closing in now, sensing Harry's soul as ripe for the taking, unable to distinguish between him and their intended target.

Please, not now, Harry thought desperately, trying to keep his parents and Dahlia's happy faces at the forefront of his mind. "Expecto patronum!" he shouted hoarsely. "Expecto patronum!" But the faces were fading fast, as an ugly, weathered one replaced it in his mind: that of the nearest dementor, lowering its hood to claim his soul for its own.

Harry couldn't hold them all off. He struggled to remain conscious, but he was fading fast. For the second time that evening, he felt as though this was the end. He was powerless to resist the overwhelming force of the dementor army, sapping his remaining strength, coming to deliver him to Death's doorstep once more…

Then, a blinding flash of light overwhelmed Harry's senses. He blinked; something massive and white had swooped between him and the dementors, forcing them back into the sky. A Patronus, Harry recognized. But whose? The large beast roared and swiped at the hooded figures, keeping them away from Harry and pushing them slowly back out of the clearing.

Then, more Patronuses arrived to join the fight. A silver stag, phoenix, and bat exploded into view, forming a solid wall of light that nearly blinded Harry with their radiance. At once he felt his strength return, and happy memories of his family flooded his mind. I'm going to see them again, he realized with a burst of joy, scrambling to his feet and aiming his wand into the sky. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Harry's thestral Patronus burst from his wand, joining the other four to hold back the influx of dementors. They began advancing on the hooded creatures, overwhelming them and forcing them into retreat. Finally the dementors gave up, turning back to glide over the treetops and return to the castle boundaries, leaving Harry alone and panting in the fast-returning moonlight.

"Harry?" he heard a voice call out from behind him. Neville Longbottom emerged from the darkness, joining him in the clearing. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay," said Harry. "Was that your Patronus that saved me?"

"Yeah," Neville nodded, a grin forming on his face in spite of himself. "It was my first time getting a fully corporeal Patronus!"

"Well done," Harry appraised the boy. "I told you that you could do it."

"All thanks to your help," said Neville.

Moments later, Dumbledore swept into the clearing, followed by James and Professor Snape, all with their wands aloft. "Mr. Potter, are you—?" the Headmaster began.

"I'm fine, sir," Harry snapped. "Where's Pettigrew? We have to find him before he leaves the grounds."

"Hominem revelio," Dumbledore muttered, and the same pulsing blue light shot from his wand, spreading through the forest. "There is no sign of him. He must have escaped."

Harry swore loudly. "He has my Time-Turner," he confessed. "I'm sorry, sir, I know I should have been more careful with it."

"Pettigrew has a Time-Turner now?" Snape said, his face registering extreme alarm.

"The Ministry must be informed at once," James agreed. "Such a dangerous tool in the hands of a madman? Hogwarts will have to be evacuated at once. If he returns—"

"He won't be back," Harry muttered. "He got what he wanted. Now he's going to bring the spoils back to his master."

All three adults plus Neville stared blankly at Harry. Only Dumbledore seemed to grasp the significance of his words, and the Headmaster sighed heavily. "We must retrace precisely what has happened tonight to make that determination," he said. "Let us return to my office and discuss what has transpired."

The group began walking back through the forest towards the castle. Calvin the Kneazle rejoined them soon after, brushing up against Harry's leg and purring loudly, standing guard against the rat's reappearance. Harry realized that the five Patronuses also remained overhead, keeping them safe from rogue dementors. "What form is your Patronus, Neville?" Harry asked aloud, scrutinizing the largest of the five spectral figures.

"I dunno," Neville shrugged. "Looks like a large dog or something?"

"It's a bear," said James, glancing up sadly to the sky. "The same as your father's, Neville...I saw him use it during the war. Frank would be very proud of what you accomplished tonight."

Neville said nothing in response to this. Harry glanced at the boy and saw tears forming in his eyes, clearly overcome with the unexpected connection to his belated father. Harry knew the feeling precisely. He gave Neville a reassuring pat on the back, and the other boy nodded jerkily in thanks as they exited the trees and marched up to the castle in silence.

But Harry couldn't feel too grateful after what the night had cost him. Peter had taken the Time-Turner and the Marauder's Map, along with whatever that tiara was that he'd been after. Harry felt quite sure that he would not return to Hogwarts, but that was the least of his concerns now.

Voldemort has access to a Time-Turner now, he realized with dread. He didn't think the Dark Lord could be any more terrifying, but the thought of him with such a tool was a chilling prospect.

A/N: Surprise! Unlike JKR, I am not afraid of the Time-Turner being used as a plot device and have exciting (terrifying?) things planned for it in the future. How will the Dark Lord choose to use this newfound power of time? How will the diadem's early appearance in the story affect things? You'll have to wait until Year 4 and beyond to find out! See you soon with the conclusion to Year 3…