Reunion

Past 1980

With his last strength, the Dark Lord apparated himself, the woman and the baby to one of his safe houses, where a few of his Deatheaters were waiting loyally. The moment he arrived, he grabbed a Deatheater by the collar of her robes and pulled her face closer to his so he could tell her his last instructions. His strength was draining slowly and he knew he would leave his body very soon, but he knew he would be coming back soon and then there would have to be a new body ready for him.

"The boy," he whispered hoarsely. "Ready the boy. Let the woman nurture him, then get rid of her."

He coughed and everything was already becoming black before his eyes. He whispered his last words before falling lifeless down on the stone ground. "The boy is to be my heir."

The female Deatheater quickly got on her feet and stared for a long shocked moment at the dead body at her feet, then turned around where she could see her fellow Deatheaters holding down the woman and the baby.

The child was oddly enough very silent and the only sobs they could hear were coming from the red-haired woman.

She walked up to her fellow Deatheaters and told them their Lord's instructions.

"He must be ready…"

Future – 1995

Slowly consciousness was coming back to Harry, but the boy kept lying still, waiting to wake up fully. When finally all his senses were ready and up to work again, he opened his eyes and immediately rolled away from whomever it was that had been standing in front of him.

He jumped on his feet, whipped out his wand and was promptly struck with a Crucio.

Sharp stings of pain coursed through his veins, making him fall to his knees and then to his side as he embraced himself with his arms. The pain was unbearable and it kept going. His skin tingled with pain and bright hot fire.

Harry was about to tear at his flesh as it was lifted, leaving him twitching in the aftermath till the pain finally faded to a dull throbbing.

Harry's rasping breath was talked over by his attacker.

"Why do you keep forgetting this, Scion?" the man kneeled at his side and turned him on his back. Harry soon found a bottle held to his lips and before he could protest, cold liquid slipped through his throat.

Oddly enough, instead of killing him, it made him feel better and soon he was able to sit up.

"The first thing you do is inauspiciously grab your wand. If you still have to grab your wand after you are on your feet, you're done for."

Harry got on his feet and gave the man a once over. He wore black clothes and even though he wore no mask and was by no means familiar, he knew the man was a Deatheater.

The question was: why did it look like the man was trying to train him?

The man frowned and then stared deep into his eyes. Harry was too late with realizing the man could be using Legilimency on him.

The man broke contact and yelled for someone to come.

"What is it?"

"Something's wrong with Scion."

"What is it?"

"His thoughts are… not right."

"Did you hit him with a Confundus?"

"No, Crucio. I swear it was just training."

"Maybe he finally cracked?"

"Our Lord will be pissed."

"If he comes back."

"When he comes back! I have faith in our Lord and so should you. He will come back and Scion must be ready for that moment."

Past - 1980

James was having a nervous breakdown. Probably not the best thing to do when Voldemort has just kidnapped your wife and child, but he currently just couldn't see another option.

"He has-he-my Lily-HARRY! NO!" James half muttered/half yelled and Remus tried to calm down his erratic friend while their other companions alerted others through all the means they knew and trying to make a 'rescue plan' at the same time.

"James! Calm down! We need you now!" Remus scolded him slightly, trying to hide his concern, or his friend could become even more erratic.

"Lily and Harry need you to think for them now. They are counting on you to keep your head clear." Remus argued. "Harry-"

James finally snapped out of it. "Harry?" he repeated with a forlorn voice, and before Remus could stop him, James was out of the door.

He ran as fast as he could through Hogwarts hallways-cursing so badly that the devil would have given him the thumbs up for it-when a staircase changed which made him have to take a longer route.

And then finally he stood in front of the door.

He gulped, now being hesitant, as he had reached his goal. With a deep breath, he opened the door and stalked in one fluent motion over to the mirror.

"Harry?" he first asked hopefully to the unreflecting mirror and then yelling more frantic. "Harry! Please, you must be there!"

He gripped the sides of the mirror tightly. "Harry! Answer me! You must be there! You MUST!"

There came no answer and James fell to the ground, tears streaming down his face. Harry was not there.

"No! Don't tell me my boy is dead! If he's not there…then Lily and he…. NO!"

Remus hoarse voice came from behind him. "He probably isn't, James."

James didn't turn around as he violently wiped with a sleeve over his face to get the tears away. "Why else would he not answer?" He argued.

"You know Lily… she'd make sure he is alright. And herself too."

James stood up and gave his friend a grim smile. "Don't tell me about my own wife. Lily would give her life for Harry!"

His fists were shaking, but he gave Remus a determined look. "I'm going to take them back, Remus. I'm going to get my family back!"

Future – 1995

Harry stood in front of a black marble throne, beautiful in its splendour, yet Harry's attention was not on it. Instead, he kept glancing from the corner of his eyes at the spidery hand on his right shoulder.

Get it off. Take that disgusting appendage off my shoulder or I'll do it for you and break it while I'm at it!

"Someday," the man, who the hand belonged to spoke. "Someday you shall be on that throne and the world will lie at your feet."

"When will that be?" Harry asked coldly and turned around to face the man, managing with that movement to shake the hand off.

"Soon…"

"What if I don't want to wait?"

The man laughed, a sound that echoed shrilly through the chamber and made Harry's skin crawl in disgust. This man-NO-creature before him… So full of himself and the power he was presently wielding. Harry despised him.

The power and ambition of the man made him blind. He had made the Deatheaters train Harry and now he was teaching Harry himself, thinking he had the boy under his control. Harry knew better.

Voldemort, with his nice talks about the future and his promises of splendour was nothing but a nice illusion, made for Harry to follow him in whatever the man wanted.

Sadly enough for Voldemort, it was his own fault, his own teachings, that made Harry realize the truth: that he was nothing but a toy. A little plaything to pass time with; to show off to the light side.

In his dreams, Harry remembered times… times when the old man for the light side; Albus Dumbledore did the same thing. He was just a pawn.

And he knew that Voldemort's only purpose for him would be to take over his body and soul in order to live on.

Harry wouldn't let him. It was time that he struck back and took his own power.

Past 1980

The door to the room opened and a person hesitantly came in, glancing cautiously around to see if another person was around, and then closed the door shut.

He walked to the mirror, still pitch black, and put his hand to the dark surface.

"What must I do now?" he asked the darkness.

"What we must," a squeaky voice said unexpectedly and Peter turned startled around. He gulped and looked in fear at the man in front of him.

He was not much to look at. He had small watery eyes, colourless hair with a bald patch and a rat-like face with a pointed nose. He was slightly smaller than Peter and much fatter. And the most distinguishing feature about the man had to be the glove-like silver hand.

Peter shivered and stepped away. "Uh… hi?" he squeaked and the man rolled his eyes.

"Don't tell me you act like this every time you'll see me?"

"Well… uh… it's odd to see your future self and uh... he… that means you… look…" he gulped and rubbed his hands together.

"And it turns out you will look like me in the future?" Old Peter finished his sentence and snorted.

"It can be changed, you know. Not for me since I used a Time-Turner and am doomed to live life here. I'll be an old man when I'm in my right time again. You can change, just like the others. Everyone but I can change, isn't that ironic?" Old Peter shook his head in disgust at his situation. "But that is just a sacrifice I have to make."

Why?" young Peter asked curiously.

"Remember when you were ill during the full moon, while you were with the others in the shrieking shack? Your fever decided to change you back into a human. If it weren't for James Potter, you would have been dead now."

Peter nodded in remembrance and Old Peter continued, rubbing thoughtfully over the silver hand.

"At that same spot, Harry Potter, James' son saved me from getting killed. Twice a life debt to the same family… it must be repaid."

Peter sighed. "And that was why you used a time-turner to go back here and reveal the Mirror?"

Old Peter grinned wryly. "That was the only way that things could get right. But they still need your help."

"What do I need to do?"

"Well, you can stop being such a coward and do what is right. What the hell are you doing here? Go to James and help him get his son and wife back!"

Peter gulped at this scolding and nodded. His eyes followed his elder self's hand as the man reached into a pocket and withdrew something on a chain. He threw it to Peter who caught it out of the air. He stared at it, startled at the fact that he hadn't let it fall on the ground.

"I'm leaving now," Old Peter said. "I expect you to do as I said."

"Where are you going?"

"Who knows?" Old Peter said and with a shrug. "Who cares? Oh, just one thing…" He glanced a bit disgusted at Peter's stomach. "Do yourself a favour and lay off the bloody Chocolate Frogs!"

With that said the man turned into a small rat and disappeared through a creak in the wall.

Peter stared for a long time at the spot on the wall and then glanced at the object in his hand. He took a deep breath. He would do what he had to do.

He stalked over to the door, opened it and went outside.

Future - 1995

Harry sat on a black marble throne and smiled grimly down at the form lying motionless a short distance away from his feet.

He slowly trailed with a hand over the cold armrest, almost rubbing the marble with affection.

"You see how easy it is to overthrow you, Mudblood," he suddenly said and laughed; a sound that was hollow and send shivers up the spines of the present Deatheaters.

The form made a spastic movement but then fell motionless back on the stones again.

Harry started to hiss and the something that had been wrapped around the form on the floor started to unwind itself and slowly slithered to Harry.

"She's my servant now, Tom Riddle," he taunted in parseltongue to the person on the floor. "And just thinking about the fact that her venom is slowly finding its path through your body. It feels great, doesn't it?

"Take him to the dungeons," he ordered the cowering Deatheaters. "I want him to die and rot there."

He watched detached as the men took their former master and dragged him away. He waved the other men away till he was alone in the cold room. He stood up and stalked to the middle of the room to start to pace there. Lately, he had felt bothered about something.

About someone.

And that someone was the one he only had heard mentioned of; Albus Dumbledore.

So this grudge he held for Albus Dumbledore, where did it come from? He had never even met the man, so how could he feel this loathing feeling for the man, which was even stronger than how he felt about his Mudblooded former-master.

He was not sure where he got it from, perhaps his dreams? He dreamed so many times of different lives and sometimes when he was awake, he mistook such a dream for reality.

It scared his Deatheaters, confused them and made them think he had lost his marbles. Perhaps he had, Harry wasn't even sure himself.

"Perhaps I'm really insane."

Past 1980

Peter stared at the small object in his hand. Sure he had heard of them, but to actually be holding and seeing one was entirely different.

"I thought they were supposed to hold only one?" James said from his right side.

"But one is broken, does it still work?" Sirius said from his left side.

The Marauder Four were currently in the Gryffindor common room, where in the past they had planned many of their escapades. The room, which normally was crowded with students, was now void of all life. Thus the perfect place to scheme.

The three were sitting in front of the cold hearth, but their minds didn't register the cold; for excitement and curiosity kept them warm.

The object which Peter was holding were two entwined hourglasses on a necklace. One of the hourglasses was silver. The other one, a bronze one, was broken and had no sand in it anymore.

Remus tapped thoughtfully with a finger against his chin. "I have read about Time-Turners before, and yes James, they are supposed to be only one hourglass and made of silver. So that leaves the question: why is there also a bronze one."

Peter might not be considered as smart as his friends, but he had a theory about it, which he could not share with his friends. Old Peter had to have used the bronze one to travel years back in time, and since it was broken, he could not return.

"I don't know," Peter said. "But we can use the silver one, we can travel back in time up to 48 hours."

They all glanced at each other and then at James. "Are you sure we ought to be doing this… messing with time-"

"I'm sure. I already made such a mess of it, a little bit more to set things right won't mind."

"Alright!" Sirius exclaimed loudly and clapped James hard on the shoulder. "So, how long should we turn it back?"

To Be Continued