A/N: Alright, this story is one that I had created before, but now deleted and am attempting to write it as post-HBP. Which I think will work. You'll see bits and pieces of references to time from the past throughout the story, and I apologize for the long not. Now I would put this in as a part of the competition, however, given the circumstances of my story, that is not a possibility.

Chapter One:

Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so. - Douglas Adams.

A sense of fear gripped Harry as he woke once more from his nightmares. Seventh year was a fourth of the way through and nothing he did could pull him out of his slump. Ron and Hermione were going out at the beginning of their seventh year, then they had a huge fight that nearly destroyed their friendship, his and Ron's that is. Harry had sided with Hermione during one of the fights, about NEWTS no less (which he desperately need to pass) and Ron said something about them being trivial causing Hermione to go off on Ron. Harry stepped in before Ron could do too much damage, but it was already done. She left the room in tears, Ron left with a black eye.

The year had been long. That was about the only word Harry could use to explain it. Well maybe long and difficult. He had found the locket which held one of the Horocruxes in it; it had been located in Grimmauld Place, Sirius' old home, and it was only be luck did he find it. Or at least that is what he called it. He, Ron and Hermione left to search for it, and had stopped there for the night. Harry had wandered the house, in an attempt to regain some of his thoughts on situation. He needed to stop and think about it, and rework some of his ideas. The door to Kretcher's cupboard was open, and out of curiosity, he entered to see what the little bugger had left behind. It was in an old shoe that was wrapped in a pair of torn knickers. The smell was unbearable and started it on fire to stop the smell. Inside the charred remains, lay the Horocrux, unscathed.

He woke Hermione and Ron, who were beginning the failings of their “mating ritual” and showed them it. Hermione kicked herself for not thinking RAB meant Regulus Black. He quickly destroyed the locket, a smile on his face as he blacked out from the pain of Voldemort. One down, four to go.

They had chosen to return to Hogwarts that year, in an attempt to find Hufflepuff's goblet as well as something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's. Hermione had told him that she believed it to be Ravenclaw, and he wanted to believe her, though part of him thought that he was made into a Horocrux as well. She quickly shot down the idea, stating that `if you were one, Riddle would have never tried to kill you again.' Now they began the search at the school for the final two, and training to take on Voldemort and his army of darkness, as well as destroy Nagini in the process.

Sitting up, he rubbed the remaining amount of sleep out of his eyes. Reaching onto his nightstand, he grabbed his glasses and slid them over his eyes. Grabbing the mirror that Sirius had given him, he moved over to the window to watch the night sky. Recently he had done more of that, soul searching, then ever before.

The war was going worse, much worse..... Many of the students elected not to return, and there was an attack upon Hogsmeade. He was down there, defending the town, so was the rest of the trio. However, Hermione and Ron were not as ready as he was. Now something he regrets for even taking them with him. Ron was trying to defend Hermione and was hurt from a stray curse sent by another defender, something that Harry thought Ron should have avoided in the first place. Hermione was trying to defend a group of third years and was hurt. The Death Eaters that attacked them did not live long following the battle. Their injuries too extension, and Harry felt no guilt because of it, though he avoided those memories. He stared down at the small mirror as the Northern Lights, mystical colors and all played across the clear night sky.

They had appeared over Hogwarts recently, though, no one was quite sure why, not even Hermione. All he knew was that the last time they appeared, it was almost seventeen years ago, when his parents had died.

"I wish there was someone there to help me understand. I wish you were here." He brought the mirror to his chest and closed his eyes.

"Sirius?"

Harry nearly dropped the mirror as he looked at it. The voice came again.

“Sirius, where the hell are you?” It was his father, James, or rather, as his father should have looked when Harry was born. “Sirius?”

“This isn't Sirius,” Harry said looking down into the mirror.

“Who are you? Where's Sirius?” James said quizzically.

“I'm you're son, Harry,” Harry said, trying to hold back his tears. Here was his chance, his chance to speak with his father

“My son is only a year old, not some teenager,” James said growling. “Listen to me.” His voice turned to a growl. “You come near my family, I will hunt you down you piece of-” Harry cut him off, forcing the words out of his mouth.

“You're name is James Potter, married to Lily Potter, I was born on July 31^st 1980, your best friends are Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettrigrew,” Harry said, staring intently into the mirror. “You, Sirius and Peter are all Animagi. You're a stag, Sirius is a large dog, and Peter a rat. Remus is a werewolf. You are all the Marauders.”

“How do you know all of this?” James said, his look of shock plain

“I'm you're son,” Harry said, tears coming into his eyes.

“But you're only…..” His voice trailed off.

“I don't know how……” Harry said, looking up at the night sky and lights dancing there. He began to wonder. These mirrors allowed them to communicate between each other, but now somehow, the one James had was communicating with the one in the present. “All I know is I'm your son, and you're may father.”

“Who's you're godfather?” James asked, still not convinced.

“Sirius,” Harry said smiling slightly. His eyes clouded over at a moment. A moment of silence occurred and Harry stared out of the window, still holding the mirror.

“My god……” Jarmes said. “You're eyes, their emerald like-like-”

“Mum's,” Harry finished. James nodded.

“How is this happening?” He voiced the same question Harry had been thinking. “Its really you insist it?”

“Yeah.”

“How old are you?” James asked.

“I turned seventeen this past summer,” Harry said.

“That would make it 1997?” James asked. Harry nodded, but the image fluttered.

“Dad? Dad?” Harry asked, staring intently into the mirror.

“I'm here, I haven't gone any where,” James said.

“I though I'd lost you,” Harry said with a sigh of relief.

“What do you mean? I'm still there aren't I?” Harry shook his head.

“You died, when I was young,” Harry said, tears coming to his eyes. He wiped them quickly and held the rest back.

“What? How?” James asked. The life appeared to be sucked out of him.

“On Halloween, Mum and you were killed……” Harry said, doing his best to hold back his tears.

“Halloween?” James asked. “That's tomorrow.” Harry's neck snapped up.

“Dad, listen to me, get us out of the house tomorrow, don't be there,” Harry said frantically. The mirror flickered again. “Dad! You hear me?”

“Why? What's going to happen?”

“Dad, just listen, you can't stay at Godric Hollow, leave get, mum and me out of there,” Harry pleaded. The mirror flicked again, this time the image staying out longer.

“First thing-start to pack…..get out of……” James image kept going in and out. “…..you son.”

“I love you too dad,” Harry said to the blank mirror.

Harry was too wired to even think about sleeping. He stayed up the remainder of the night, alternating between staring into the mirror and out of the window, watching the colorful lines dance in the sky. Fear gripped his heart. It was no dream, no fake memory. It really happened. He had talked to his father, and now did not know if he ever was going to again.

Morning came slowly, and once again, Halloween was hell for Harry. He started his day like normal and showered before everyone else, and headed out the door, with the mirror clutched tightly in his hands. Being Head Boy had its advantages. He was not going to let his father slip away. Not again.

He made his way down to the Great Hall, and smiled slightly. Like clock work, he just about knew where the Head Girl was at all times, partially from being so close, as close as two platonic friends could be, and some instinct within told him so. And it was right. Hermione was sitting there already, and she, as always, brought a little sunshine to his ever-growing dismal life. As he sat down next to her, he noticed the books she was reading about magical connection and protections.

“Morning Hermione,” Harry said, as he sat down. She looked shocked at first, but a large smile grew on her face as she realized who it was. She quickly surrounded his neck with one of her famous hugs, now her usual greeting for him.

“You didn't sleep,” she said. Her arms were still around his neck as she pulled back, loosing the hug slightly. He smiled shyly as the closeness, but said nothing. He never had to. She always could tell was he was thinking and the same with him. “A nightmare.”

“I sure hope not,” Harry said a smile growing. “But I don't feel like talking about it if that's alright.” She smiled, but kept her arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” she said, like she had for the last week or so. He was never quite sure why she said it, but she did. He allowed his arms to go around her. “If you need anything-”

“Actually, could we not go to the feast tonight?” He asked, not wanting to be around too many people. Professor Lupin had been reinstated and he wanted to know a bit more about his parents, especially with the discussion he had with his father the previous night. She eyed him strangely. “Its just with the war and all, I'd rather not relive my parents…..” She buried her head in his neck as she hugged him tighter.

“Sure,” she said after a few moments of hugging. “I understand. But you owe me one now.” She pulled away from him and returned to her breakfast and her book.

“Hermione, I owe you about a million for everything you've ever done for me,” Harry said. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, catching the slight blush rising up on it. He did not know why he did so, other than he had be dying to do that all morning. He never told anyone about his feelings toward her, after the fiasco with Ron made the pain even worse. Most of the time, he brushed it off as a crush that he could not get rid of. This was not one of those times.

“Thank you,” she said still blushing. “What are we doing today?”

“We are going to have dinner with Moony,” Harry said happily as he found a plate filled with food in front of him. He looked over at Hermione who just smiled. “Thank you.” She blushed again, and began to concentrate on the book in front of her.

Ron came down and sat across from them. It had been little over a month since the “incident” had happened and they had, on the surface, worked out all of the problems. Ron however, still was being a jerk to them both, though not noticeable unless you were Harry. Weeks of training with Moody and Lupin, following the destruction of the locket, had brought his wizarding skills to almost par of the old mentor. This however was before a short, but intense trying session within his mind with the Great Wizard himself, Merlin. This took place the first week of school, and he had fallen into a short coma. It was at this time his best friends had gone out. Now he believed in himself (and has the power to back it up), but that he did not give credit to either of his mentors. That came from Hermione's constant support and tutoring.

“What you so happy about?” Ron asked as he began to fill his own plate.

“Harry invited me to a private dinner with Moony,” Hermione said softly. She must have been holding back her blush because Harry knew he was. “He wants to talk about…..” Her voice trailed off as her blush increased.

“Forget it,” Ron said, waving them off. “I don't care.” He glared at Harry momentarily before returning to him meal.

“Well, I'm going to the library,” Harry said, standing up from his seat.

“But I just got here?” Ron said confused.

“Then finish up and you can join me in the library,” Harry said picking up his bag. “I'm going to get started on a side project.” Both of them knew he had done a great deal of these for Moody and for himself in preparation of the final battle. “Want to come Hermione?”

“She's already got her book here,” Ron said after swallowing a mouthful of food. Harry had to admit, the only good thing that came out of Ron's and Hermione's relationship was the boy learned some manners. Some.

“I think it may be a bit quieter in the library,” Hermione said. She marked the page of her book and accepted Harry's outstretched hand for help up.

“You two loons have fun,” Ron yelled at them. Harry noted the hate and anger in his words, which should have gone unnoticed.

They walked silently into the library and once they reached Hermione's supposedly unofficial table (Harry had money that she threatened anyone who thought about taking her table), Harry set off to find what he needed. Coming back after about a ten minute search and three minutes talking to Madame Prince, Harry sat down with two thick volumes on magical anomalies. He had to find everything and anything he could about what happened the previous night.

“You have a question Hermione?” Harry asked without looking up from the book. He looked up now to see her blushing face as she pushed a fallen strand of hair behind her hair.

“What are you looking for?” Hermione asked him, shyness in her voice.

“I'll tell you when I find it,” Harry said, going back to his book. His face burned slightly as he thought about what he had unconsciously asked her earlier. He did not mean for it to sound like a date, but it meant a great deal to him to have her there with him. Even when she was dating Ron, she was the only person he allowed to comfort him when he finally told her. Ron was still in the dark about the prophecy, but now that Hermione knew, everything seemed a bit light, a bit better.

“Hermione?” Harry asked. She looked up at him. “Thank you….for tonight I mean. I know you probably wanted to go to the feast, but….thanks.” He felt the blush over his face as he did this.

“You're welcome,” Hermione said blushing as well. “This just means you'll have to do something for me.”

“You name it, I'll do it,” Harry said with a large smile. They shared another smile before returning to their books; Harry could not help but glance at her every now and then, making sure she was still there and giving into a bit of his crush.