Author's Note: I bet you can guess what this chapter is about. So, everyone, last I checked, this had 18 reads! I'm happy - from 7 to 18 in a day, that's really good! Keep it up, guys! Again, I'm going to ask you to  please comment....even if you tell me you absolutely hate it I'm not gonna care, as long as you tell me what you think. I will read them and I'll try to incorporate any advice into the upcoming chapters. Constructive criticism is a good thing, guys! All right, last thing before I let you continue reading. This chapter is dedicated to my friend Bridget Blackburn, who I wish was my sister. Okay, I've bored you enough. Please comment!

Chapter 2: The Last Time Turner

Mum, Dad, James, Al, Athena and I all walked down the street together as a family, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. However, even though we'd all remembered to wear Muggle clothes, we still attracted a good many stares. I winced as I saw one of my classmates run into a door because she was so busy staring at my dad. Not that I wasn't used to this behavior, of course; I'd come to expect it, seeing as my parents were both very important figures in the famous Battle of Hogwarts.

I still remembered the day I'd found out who they really were. I had been 9 at the time, and the only reason I recall it so well is because it had been on Albus's first day at Hogwarts. I could still picture the scene in my mind - people scurrying back and forth near the Hogwarts Express, animals making loud noises like we were at a zoo instead of a train station, Mum saying last-minute goodbyes while standing next to Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron. I remember Al's last words before the train pulled out of the station: "Why are people staring at you?"

"It's me," Uncle Ron had replied jokingly. "I'm famous." However, it hadn't been Uncle Ron that Al had asked. It had been Dad. He was standing there, watching his youngest son ride the train that would take him to his home for the next nine months, touching the thin scar on his forehead, almost like he was remembering some other time.

"He'll be all right," I'd heard Mum say as she grasped his shoulder.

"I know he will," Dad replied. His voice was soft and loving, the way it always was when he was proud of us. Right now he was proud of Al, and I knew why; Albus reminded Dad of himself.

It wasn't until the car ride home when I'd asked the question. "Dad? Why were all those people staring at you?"

He was silent for a few moments as he thought of a suitable answer for my question. "It's because of the funny scar on my head," he said finally, and I could tell that he was forcing himself to be lighthearted for my sake. I knew something was bothering him, but he wouldn't admit it to me.

"I don't think that's it. Mary has a scar on her hand shaped like a crescent moon, and people don't stare at her like they stare at you."

Dad sighed in exasperation at my persistence. He didn't say anything for a while, and when he finally did speak, he sounded troubled and . . . sad. "I wasn't lying to you when I said it was because of my scar, Lily."

I became scared; I'd never heard Dad use that tone before. "Does this have something to do with Grandma and Grandpa Potter?" I pressed, desperate to find out more information.

He glanced at me in the rear view mirror and I was startled to see that his bright green eyes were now shimmering with a thin film of tears. "Lily, please," he begged, "not right now. I can't . . . I can't talk about it right now, okay?"

The rest of the ride was silent, and when we reached home Mum and Dad both went upstairs into the Office. It was the place where they had their most serious discussions that they didn't want us to hear. Seeing as there was no one for me to play with, I decided to go up to my room. The Office door was open as I walked up the stairs, and I tiptoed quietly past, trying not to disturb them. I'd reached the bookcase on the other side of the doorway when I heard something that made me freeze.

"Don't you think you're being just a little too paranoid about this?" It was Mum's voice. I silently hid out of sight to listen.

"They're still too young, Ginny. I don't want them to have to find out about what happened to us until they're old enough. I've lived through it, and it's not a pleasant experience at all, to know something so terrible so young."

"Isn't that exactly what you wanted when you were Al's age, the truth?"

"That was different. I was eleven then. I didn't know that the truth could be so harsh."

"You wouldn't have to give them all the details. Besides, how long do you think we can keep hiding it from them? Al is exactly like you; he's observant, and he'll find out sooner than the others will, and you know that once he finds out James will want to know and he'll force it out of him. And Lily is very, very smart and clever. If she doesn't find out from her brothers, she'll either find out on her own or try to trick it out of us. I was the exact same way."

I heard the chair squeak as Dad sat down, rubbing his temples. "I know it'll happen eventually. I'm just not sure what to tell them. It's been nineteen years since the Battle, yet it still haunts me in my nightmares. All those innocent people killed without a second thought -"

"Don't you even think about blaming yourself. It's not your fault, and you know it. It was because of him, and you killed him in the end. He can't come back now. He won't be able to hurt us anymore."

I'd had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, but I'd heard enough. I didn't want to hear anymore. I'd tried to run back to my room, but instead I'd run smack dab into the bookcase, knocking over a thick book with a heavy thump. Mum and Dad's voices had gone silent, and I knew it was only a matter of time until they came out and found me snooping. I'd picked up the book and ran for it, carefully dodging the bookcase this time. After I was back safely in my room, I looked at the cover: Modern Magical History by some crazy witch whose name I couldn't pronounce. There was a bookmark in one of the chapters, and I opened to that page. Staring back at me was a picture of my parents, though younger . . . much younger. Curious, I read the paragraph.

Harry James Potter was born 31 July 1980 to Lily Evans and James Potter in the village of Godric's Hollow. He is known to most of the Wizarding world as the Boy Who Lived because of his defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named 31 October 1981 at only a year old. Neither James nor Lily survived that night, leaving Harry at the mercy of his Muggle aunt and uncle, Lily's sister Petunia Evans and her husband Vernon Dursley. They and their son Dudley Dursley mistreated Harry during his stay at their home, and he did not find out he was a wizard until his eleventh birthday, when Rubeus Hagrid was sent by the late Albus Dumbledore to rescue Harry from their clutches. At Hogwarts, Harry made friends with Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Their adventures can be found in Chapter 27 of this book. The above photograph was taken after the Battle of Hogwarts, after Harry triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry is seen here with Genevra Weasley, Ronald's younger sister.

I stared at the page, completely in shock. I couldn't believe it - my father, defeat the most evil Dark Wizard of all time? It seemed completely unreal, and yet here was the proof in ink. That was my first feeling, shock. My second feeling was understanding. This must have been what Mum and Dad had been talking about earlier. Then the third feeling hit - betrayal. How could my parents hide this from their own children for so long? Why hadn't they told us this?

I'd been a bit bitter at them, and I gave them the silent treatment for about a week. After I'd finished my brooding, Mum and Dad had had a long conversation with me, explaining about who Dad really was. But that had all been years ago. I knew better now.

I'm not sure how long we walked, but I began to realize that the buildings on this street did not look like they belonged on Shaftsbury Avenue. In fact, this place looked more like a village than anything. Even Mum seemed confused about where we were . . . at least, until we reached the statue.

At first glance it looked like an old war memorial, but if you looked carefully at it, it changed to a statue of a man, a woman, and their young child. We all stopped and looked at it, and I thought there was something awfully familiar about the man and the woman.

Mum was in complete shock. She stared at the statue, her mouth open. "I thought we were going to Shaftsbury Avenue," she accused, not looking away.

"We are," said Dad quietly in a voice I'd only heard him use once before; the day Al went to Hogwarts. "I just had to see this place again . . . it's been 26 years since I've last seen it."

We all looked at Dad and we were startled to see that he was just staring at the statue. His expression was blank, and tears streamed down his face. I looked from him to the statue, then back to him. Dad looked an awful lot like the man's statue. Then I realized where we were.

"Mum? Dad? Where are we?" I asked, half-dreading the answer I knew I would receive.

Dad kept staring at the statue as he paused for a few moments. Then he spoke in that same sad tone. "We're in Godric's Hollow, Lily. The place where I was born, and the place where your Grandma and Grandpa Potter died."

James and Albus looked at each other then back at Dad, worry etched into their faces. I just stared at Dad in complete shock. Finally he seemed to notice that the tears were still falling and he wiped them away with his sleeve. Then he turned and began walking. Mum followed him anxiously, and James, Al and I did the same.

"Harry, do you really think it's a good idea, to be doing this on Lily's special day? This is supposed to be family time, and I don't want her or you to go all to pieces."

"I'm not going to go all to pieces, Ginny. I just needed to come back here. Besides, Shaftsbury Avenue really isn't that far away from Godric's Hollow. We'll still make it there in time to see the show."

They continued to argue as they walked on. James turned to me. "Hey Lil!" he whispered excitedly, his face mischievious, "Remember when we were kids and we used to play tag?"

"Yes . . ." I said, wondering what he could be getting at.

He grinned evilly, then pushed me over onto the ground. "Well, you're it!" he cried and raced away.

I hopped up, half really angry that he would push me over, half glad for the chance to act like a little kid again. I raced after him past my startled parents and tackled him to the ground. "Looks like your it now, big brother!" I said laughing before jumping to my feet and racing off.

"Hey! No fair! Come back here!" he cried in frustration. I merely laughed at him and kept running. Athena had flown off on her own before we had started playing and was now following closely behind me.

I blindly ran through the streets, determined not to let James catch up with me. Fortunately I was very fast and I had no trouble outdistancing him. After what felt like a long time, I finally paused to catch my breath and Athena perched on my shoulder again. You left me, she accused with her eyes, and I couldn't help but laugh at her expression. I turned to look for James when I saw something that made me forget all about my pesky brother.

I was standing in front of an old, beaten up house with a gaping hole in the roof. It looked as if it hadn't been lived in for years. Weeds and other wildflowers climbed up the sides and pushed through the cracks in the walkway to the front door. The door itself was wide open, and the grass grew long and wild. The whole place felt deserted, empty, and sad.

Suddenly, voices drifted up through the streets. I risked a glance behind me, then turned back towards the house and walked boldly through the front gate and the front door. Some part of my mind was telling me that this was an extremely bad idea, but it was being overruled by my sense of curiosity and adventure. The house would make a good place to hide, and I needed to hide.

When I entered the house itself, I was overwhelmed by a sense of grief. Something terrible had happened here. Burn marks covered the walls and the floor, and smashed vases and bits of glass lay everywhere. There were no bodies here, but I could tell that this had once been the site of a fierce duel. I almost wanted to go back and find my parents, but I was still curious about this house. Why was it still standing if it was this old and this worn down? Gathering my courage, I climbed the stairs and began to explore.

My family finally caught up with me in the nursery. I was standing stock still, staring at a golden object I had found next to the crib. My mother immediately came over and began to scold me. "Lily Luna Potter! What in Merlin's name were you thinking, running off like that? You scared us half to death!" She would have continued her war rant, but something Dad was doing stopped her. He was walking round the room, looking at things. "Harry, darling? What's the matter?"

He didn't look up at us. "This is where she died, Ginny. My mother. This is where Voldemort killed her." Suddenly he looked at me. "What's that you got there, Lily?"

Everyone turned to me. I was holding something that I had only read about once, long ago. It was shaped like a small golden hourglass with two golden rings surrounding it. A Time Turner. I knew from Dad's stories that he and Aunt Hermione used one once, but very bad things happened to witches and wizards who were caught messing around with time.

Dad's face paled as he saw that I was spinning the hourglass aimlessly. He started towards me. "Lily, sweetheart, please put the Time Turner down," he begged. James looked at me and made a grab for it but I jerked away from him, letting go of the tiny object in my hands. Before any of us could move, it crashed onto the ground and smashed into a thousand pieces.

Without warning, a cloud of golden dust rose from the shattered Time Turner and surrounded all of us. There was darkness for a few moments as we spun rapidly, almost like using Floo powder. Then we crashed into the ground. I stood up and looked around. Large trees surrounded us on every side, making everything dark. Off in the distance stood the ruins of an old castle. I gasped; I had seen this place only once before. But, it just wasn't possible . . .

Dad and Mum looked around, completely shocked. They opened their mouths to say something when the golden dust surrounded them, James and Al. They began to fade again.

"Mum! Dad!" I screamed, reaching my hand out to them, but it was too late. They had disappeared, and I was alone.