Summary – The summer before his fifth year, Harry Potter stumbles across his father's old journal from his seventh year at Hogwarts and he reads about the continuous adventures of him, the Marauders, and his mother, Lily Evans; how they met, how they fell in love, and what brought them to their horrendous deaths. This story is based on the movie and book called A Walk to Remember by Nicholas Sparks.

Disclaimer – Unfortunately, I own absolutely nothing. All of the characters and their names belong to author JK Rowling and the plot and character traits belong to Warner Brother's and author Nicholas Sparks.

Chapter 1 – The Missing Shoebox:

A fifteen year old Harry James Potter grumbled and groaned, muttering unpleasant words and profanities under his breath. These words were particularly about his horse-faced Aunt Petunia and his oversized Uncle Vernon. It was a beautiful summer day and instead of joining the Dursleys on their beach day, they had sent him to the stuffy, hot attic to clean it.

"Nothing makes me happy than cleaning up after those buggers," Harry mumbled sarcastically to himself as tossed another box into the middle clearing, wiping beads of sweat that were coming down his forehead at an alarmingly rate. Harry found himself suddenly wishing that he was sweating instead in Professor Snape's suffocating Potions dungeon classroom; at least he had Ron and Hermione there to keep him company. Here, in this attic, he was just suffocating all on his own. In truth, it was rather depressing.

Harry was not sure how long he scrubbed at the muddy, dead bug infested window or how long it took him to clean out and rearrange the many boxes, but he felt it took him longer than necessary. Either way, he found himself taking longer because he had to keep going down to the kitchen for must needed glasses of water.

'If Voldemort doesn't kill me,' Harry thought dryly to himself, 'there's always death by heat exhaustion and dehydration.'

After his fifth trip for water, Harry found himself picking up the oversized Christmas box and carrying it to the other side of the attic. As more sweat dripped from his brow, he used one hand to wipe at it before he fogged his glasses. As a result, the box tumbled out of his hands and knocked down several other boxes he had already neatly stacked.

Harry swore loudly and bent over to pick the boxes up, his temper and temperature both running high. As he stacked them neatly, yet again, he saw a tiny dark red box, about the size of shoebox in the deep corner of the attic, completely covered in dust. If Harry had not looked closely, he would have completely overlooked the tiny red box.

Curiosity taking over his mind and limbs, Harry made his way towards the tiny red box and gingerly picked it up. He looked at it with a raised eyebrow and carried it to the old, moldy, dusty sofa that the Dursleys had stored in the attic many years ago. He sat down and placed the box in his lap, carefully opening the lid. There was a small container of bizarre items within it, but there was a note on top, which looked as though it had been opened, read, and shoved roughly back into the envelope.

Harry did not even bother seeing whom the letter was addressed to; he suspected he already knew. So, he took the letter out of the envelope and immediately recognized the handwriting. The fancy, over exaggerated script belonged to none other than Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; the school in which Harry attended. Anxious, Harry hastily read the letter.

Dear Mrs. Dursely,

Unfortunately, we have never officially met, but I am a close friend of your late sister and her late husband, James. My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, the school Lily used to attend when she was young.

First I would like to say how extremely sorry I am over the death of your sister. It has been very hard on all of us as your sister was a remarkable young woman who was loved by many. You have all my sympathy.

Recently, I believe you found your sister's son, Harry, on your doorstep a few weeks ago? I apologize for the secrecy surrounding that, but as I explained before, it is for Harry's safety.

Today I am sending you some of your sister and brother-in-law's most precious belongings. According to their will, they are all to go to Harry on his fifteenth birthday. Many of these objects will help him understand about the horrible and unfortunate circumstances surrounding the death of his parents and why they were taken from us in the first place.

I am not asking you to explain why or how his parents died; I know that may be too difficult to you. All I ask is that you please give this box to Harry on his fifteenth birthday. I believe that that will be an appropriate time for Harry to discover the past and the truths about his parents and their lives and deaths.

I know you and your husband are not very fond of magic or what your nephew is, Petunia, but believe me when I say that, the despite the oddities you feel surround him, you should be very proud of your nephew. He is only an infant and he already has done so many positive things for the wizarding world; he has given us our hope back and I know that he will continue to make us proud in his future endeavors.

I wish you a long, happy, healthy, and successful life and I look forward to seeing Harry at Hogwarts in ten years! Thank you!

Sincerely yours,
Albus Dumbledore

"My fifteenth birthday?" Harry whispered to himself harshly. "Are you bloody kidding me? I turned fifteen two weeks ago! Those buggers! It doesn't exactly look like they were going to give this box to me anytime soon! I bet you anything they've forgotten about it…"

Harry continued cursing the Dursleys under his breath as he frowned deeply, running his fingers through his untidy jet-black hair, which stuck up at all angles. He pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose, which framed his bright, almond shaped, emerald green eyes. He sighed and shook his head; but he did not know if he shook it out of pity, frustration, anxiety, or disappointment.

Harry quickly shoved the letter back into the envelope and placed it on the sofa beside him. He anxiously rummaged through the items and pulled out a small velvet jewelry box. Harry opened it and inside of it was small diamond ring. He could not help but smiled slightly, knowing that the ring belong to his mother; it must have been her engagement ring. Looking at it with treasured eyes, he gingerly and tenderly placed it beside the envelope on the moth-eaten sofa. After several moments of staring at it with absolute tenderness, Harry returned to the other items waiting in the tiny, red box.

He then took out another small jewelry box with two wedding rings in them and Harry immediately knew that these rings were his parents' wedding rings and placed them beside the velvet box with the engagement ring. After staring at them in wonder, realizing that these items had been things that resided on his parents' fingers; their own flesh and blood. It may have sounded silly or may have not made sense, but it somehow made him feel closer to them.

After observing and treasuring his parents' rings for a few more minutes, Harry returned to the red box and pulled out a small, silver frame. He cautious and curiously picked up the delicate, dainty frame and turned it over. To Harry's surprise the frame did not have a picture in it. Instead it contained some kind of poem on it and he could not help but happily reading it, wondering if it had some kind of significance to his parents.

I want to be inside your heaven

Take me to the place you cry from

Where the storm blows your way

I want to be the earth that holds you

Every bit of air you're breathing in

A soothing wind

I want to be inside your heaven.

Harry smiled at the poem and looked at the phrase that had been written on the bottom of the page: By Lily Evans. Harry beamed proudly at the beautiful poem his mother had written, though he had no idea what it meant or the significance of it. Instead of pondering this any longer, he gently placed the frame beside the rest of the items on the couch. Finally, he picked up a small, crumpled piece of paper from the corner of the box and read it. It said;

My Bucket List

1.) Get married in the Church where my parents were married.
2.) Be in two places at once…without magic
3.) Get a Muggle tattoo
4.) Become the first woman Minister of Magic
5.) Build a Muggle telescope by hand and without magic to see Halley's Comet

6.) Befriend someone I don't like
7.) Dance under the stars on the top of the highest Hogwarts tower
8.) Join the Ministry after graduation
9.) Join the Muggle Peace Corps
10.) Become Head Girl

Harry read the paper over several times and noticed, with pride many of the things on the list were checked off. He absolutely loved that his mother had been such an ambitious and intelligent woman. It made him more proud of his mother, and still, somehow, it made him feel closer to her.

Finally, the last object in the red box was a small, but thick notebook. He took out and blew on it so the dust would fly away and he was free to read the title. But, it was not a published book of any kind. Instead it looked like some kind of diary. Curious, Harry opened the book and on the inside cover it said, Property of James Reginald Potter. Delighted to have a detailed account of his father's life, Harry anxiously and excitedly skimmed through it, seeing many writings that he smartly guessed belonged to his father.

Completely forgetting, or maybe just not caring, that he was supposed to be cleaning the Dursleys' attic, Harry turned back to the first page of his father's diary and began to read…

A note from the Jitterbelle. I just wanted to give my readers a heads up that there will be significant changes from the movie and Nicholas Sparks' version of the book. That is just to keep it aligned with the original plot by JK Rowling. Thanks for understanding and please enjoy the story and the new revisions! Do not hesitate to review! They are greatly appreciated!