"We're wasting time."

A phrase which had never been more appropriate, Harry thought as he watched the Aurors and the Unspeakables squabble. It had been three hours, forty one minutes and fifteen seconds since Amycus Carrow had done the magically possible and practically unlikely: escape Azkaban and go back in time. Even for the Aurors this was hardly could be called a normal Tuesday.

"Time we don't have," Harry agreed, stepping forwards from his point at the side of the conflict. As Head of the Magical Law Enforcement, Harry was forced to take a back step these days and only speak when his team couldn't solve the problem. This really was one of those times. "We're doing it. End of."

"With all due respect," Unspeakable Timmins interjected, "we don't know the ramifications of our work. It's a prototype, at best."

"It worked once already, or did you forget a deranged psychopath breaking in here no less than four hours ago? Carrow is a lunatic, he needs to be stopped. Merlin knows what he can do back there."

Though Harry had a few theories, he'd seen the date Amycus had set the stupid machine to. The day before he'd been born. Carrow was after him. Some of the others hadn't pieced it together yet, but those that knew their history were eyeing Harry warily. Carrow was going to stop Voldemort's fall before it had even begun. He'd be a king in a world trapped in darkness.

"But nothing has changed," insisted Timmins, "if you believe, as I do, that time travel is a closed loop then Carrow was always going to have gone back. It will happened because it had already happened in our own future."

"And what if the only reason nothing has changed is because one of us goes back to stop him? Did you think of that, Timmins?"

There was no answer for that.

"I know Carrow, he's smart. There's no way he'd have done this without a plan, so if you think I'm just going to stand here and not track the bastard down just because it might have already happened that way, then you've got another thing coming."

"You, sir?" asked Auror Davis, her keen eyes narrowed with suspicion. She always had been his best. Intelligent, ambitious, loyal and with an intimate knowledge of the older families; Tracey Davis had come through the ranks almost as fast as Harry himself had.

"Yes, Davis, me; or can you find anyone else who's time travelled before?" When nobody answered Harry continued, "thought not. Timmins I want a plan in the next hour. No arguments, Davis."

He knew it was a pipe dream, as soon as they had returned to his office Davis had torn into him. She reminded him of his family, of the risks, of his position and what he would be leaving behind. Harry's mind was set, and there wasn't enough time to get the Minister involved. Thankfully. Hermione would never have let him go, no matter how much he told her it was the right choice.

The new aurors, some of them had never seen a war. Not a real one. They'd been escorted out of Hogwarts, never really seen the death and destruction Voldemort had bought with him. They didn't know what they would have been fighting to stop, not really. Some of them did, Davis and the older generation. The elder members of the Aurors couldn't go, just in case they bumped into themselves working a case. As for Davis, well, Harry couldn't ask her to take that risk. Not after Tiberius Greengrass had sent her to St. Mungos for more than a month. Harry had almost mourned her then, he couldn't take that chance again.

And so it had been he who headed down to the Department of Mysteries an hour later. He who had listened to Timmins safety talk and protestations, then finally stepped into the archway. Yellow light poured from above him as Timmins fiddled with the various symbols on the side. Harry was to be sent back half an hour before Carrow, to lie in wait.

"And how do I get back?"

"Well, that's where this comes in." Timmins slim hand offered a small device on the end of a golden chain. "It's creates a stasis field around you, you'll be taken out of time and space, exist in a separate dimension and then pop back in when you set this to. Let's say half an hour from now. Click this button and you'll instantaneously, from your perspective, be transported to the future."

"And Carrow?"

"As long as you're connected it should work for you both, much in the same way as apparating."

"Find him, grab him, and come home. Got it."

"I must stress, Auror Potter, that this is exceptionally dangerous. The Time Gate has yet to be truly tested and -"

"I know, Timmins. I know. Let's get on with it."

"Right you are, well good luck. It's been an honour."

Harry nodded, words unable to leave his mouth as his jaw clenched. The last thought he had before the light consumed him was of his wife's face and the promise that he would see her again.

oOo

It really should have worked, Harry thought bitterly an hour later. It ought to have worked. The gate had sent him back no problem, he'd been thrown into an empty field, where he'd thought Carrow would end up too. Instead of Carrow there had been nothing but a mildly inquisitive herd of cows. It dawned on him that the Gate must move people in space and time. Likely somewhere safe, where they couldn't be seen by muggles or witches and wizards. It would explain why Harry had slammed face first into a cow pat. No matter how many charms he cast he could still smell it.

No matter, he knew where Carrow would try to be. The Fidelius Charm should still work, but it wasn't a chance Harry could take. After a quick swig of Polyjuice potion (he kept several in his desk for emergencies) Harry found himself trudging through Godric's Hollow. No-one looked at him, nobody even gave him a second glance. So long as he didn't open his mouth nobody wouldn't think he wasn't an auburn haired young woman. He'd apologise to Davis later. She wouldn't mind.

Another hour or so dragged by and still no Carrow. He was starting to panic. Think, where would he go? If not to Godric's Hollow, then where? Voldemort could be anywhere, would he really go back to his master? No, he would need proof first. Something to bring back to him. Harry was safely hidden in his parents' house, so there was no worry there. Then it came to him. His parents. Without James or Lily, Voldemort could have killed Harry. James or Lily.

30th of October. Somewhere in Harry's brain a distant bell was ringing. Something had happened, but what? His bones cracked, and his skin started to bubble. The Polyjuice was wearing off, but he ignored it.

Wait, Polyjuice. His father had snuck out, that was it. He'd found the file when he'd first started at the Ministry of his father's last case. Sirius had been tracking down a suspected Death Eater. Not just any Death Eater. Tiberius Greengrass. He'd been rising through the ranks, torturing muggles, murdering people, terrorising innocents, and all the other fun things that Death Eaters liked to do. From what Harry remembered of the report he'd been seen in a small village near Derby.

Sirius had been tracking him for weeks, and James had been restless in Godric's Hollow. A quick disguise, no-one would know the difference. And nobody had, until back-up had arrived and the Polyjuice had worn off. James had been suspended, pending dismissal and he would've been if Voldemort hadn't got there first. There had been no mention of an older Death Eater that Harry could remember, no indistinct figure that could be Carrow. Nothing.

So much for the past being written, he thought glumly as he vanished from Godric's Hollow.

Rain lashed down from the cloudy sky as Harry appeared out of nothingness. There were no screams, no cries for help and no Dark Mark in the sky. A smile spread across his face, he wasn't too late. The familiar sensation of the Disillusionment Charm trickled across his body as he picked his way through the pitch back field and made his way to the road. The house wasn't far, he'd been here before when it had just been an object of curiosity. Back then it had been a journey he had taken with Ginny, a way to find out more about his father. Now he might actually see him, breathe the same air, hear his voice. A voice he had only heard in a Pensive or dreamed of.

Suddenly the sky was torn apart with the sickly green light that Harry had spent years trying to forget. The Dark Mark. It hovered above the house that he knew it would. All it took was a Silencing Charm on his feet before Harry found himself tearing down the narrow country lane. Apparating was too dangerous, every Auror knew that; or didn't live long enough to figure out why randomly appearing in a possible duel was a bad idea.

Flashes of light burst from the cottage. Out on the lawn lay the body Samantha Griggs, her eyes wide open and her body crumpled. Not far past the door Harry knew her son would be contorted in a silent scream, bereft of life, frozen in the torment Greengrass had put him through. Harry forced himself on, not looking at the mangled corpse. Carefully he picked his way up the narrow staircase, past family photos that were suddenly more poignant, and crept towards the bedroom just as Sirius was flung through whole in the wall.

It took everything Harry had not to get involved. He couldn't change the past unless he had to. Sirius, he knew, was supposed to be injured during the fight. James was then saved him and then was the one to answer the back-up when they arrived. Greengrass and his two friends stunned at his feet. His act as an Auror.

"You're done for now, Potter."

Carrow.

James, his face bubbling and melting as Polyijuice Potion faded away, smiled. "Don't think I've had the pleasure."

Silently, his breath trapped in his lungs and his heart hammering against his rib cage, Harry crept into the room. The sight before him was what he expected, but that didn't make it any easier. They hadn't been kind to Robert Griggs, the father. Blood caked the floor as what remained of his body was scattered across it.

Before him stood three men, Greengrass, Carrow and James Potter. The rest of the Death Eaters were unconscious, just two men in black robes who had failed their master. Greengrass was sweating, but smiling with glee; whilst Carrow was eyeing James carefully watching how he moved, studying him.

"No, but I have."

A jet of red light burst from Carrow's wand but James easily batted it away. He stepped over the first Death Eater as he circled, blocking the exit.

"Playing the hero, Potter?"

"Something like that," James smiled.

"I wasn't talking to you," Carrow snarled. Harry felt his heart stop. It was by mere centimetres that the curse didn't find its mark as Harry flung himself to the ground. He shot back with an Expelliarmus that was easily avoided and Carrow laughed. The Disillusionment Charm faded. It never had been perfect. Not like the Cloak, but Harry hadn't dared bring that. He couldn't have two of the same Hallow floating around. Stupid. He should've known better than to think Carrow wouldn't see through a Disillusionment.

"Well, ain't this a turn up? Harry Potter, so glad you could make it."

"Potter?" breathed James, staring at his son. "Harry?"

There was no denying it, with his charm gone and his Polyjuice faded it was like looking into a mirror for both men. The only difference was their eyes, and their glasses. Where Harry's were round and battered from, scars he liked to keep as a reminder of who he was, James's were immaculate and squarer.

But it was his dad, his dad. Living and breathing, cement dust flecked in his hair from the destroyed wall behind him. He was thinner than he looked in photographs, his face more angular and his smile more charismatic. Life radiated from him, burst from him, bright like a firework – and soon it would die like one too. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. But death never was. It took from everyone and gave nothing. True absence.

"Hi dad," Harry said when his mouth caught up with the reality in front of him.

It was then that Carrow sprung, but Harry had been tensed for this. He knew Carrow. The Killing Curse flashed by his face, Harry responded with a curse of his own. He wasn't taking any chances. Carrow had made this personal.

A cacophony of light and shouts, explosions and destruction filled the room. Harry took Carrow whilst James took Greengrass. Both Aurors were on top, Greengrass backing away and tripping over the unconscious form of his comrade. It was the only opening James needed, with a lick of his wand the man was sent flying from his feet, and slamming into the far wall.

The same couldn't be said for Carrow who dipped and dodged every spell Harry flung his way. Harry, for equal measure blocked and weaved, ducked instant death and avoided instant torture but still neither man made headway. Until he did. Harry wasn't sure who had cast first, or which curse hit who – but James had stepped in to help his son, press the advantage. A smile flashed across his face, cocky and confident. Then the curses had rebounded, whose Harry had no idea and that smile had faded.

He watched James crumple, his body sag and his face go blank. Silence fell over the room. James was dead.

Carrow squealed with glee and Harry roared. Victory turned to defeat in a matter of seconds as Harry flung himself forwards. He didn't care what curse he cast, nor the pain he inflicted as he bore down on Carrow. A wounded animal, defending the remnants of his family. His heart broken and his temper snapped. When he was within touching distance of Carrow, Harry lunged. Wands scattered, blood flowed. Carrow laughed until he laughed no longer, a mess on the floor, soaking in the blood of his victim.

It was only when Carrow was dealt with that Harry allowed himself to look at his father. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't was meant to happen. Not today. Not like this. James Potter died protecting him. He died with the wife in loved, defending the son he would never know. That was what happened. Not this.

"Dad," Harry heard his voice choke as knelt by his father's side. Time seemed meaningless, seconds felt like years and minutes a life time.

Yet time, as always, was the most important thing. Maybe it could be re-written, but then it dawned Harry in the recess of his grief, that if it had surely he shouldn't be there. There should be no Harry Potter to cause his father to die, because there would now be no Harry Potter left alive. So why was he still there, why was he left to cradle the body of a father he'd never known? How could he be?

Like looking into a mirror.

It wasn't James who died by Voldemort's hand, it never had been. It had always been him. He took the small device from his pocket. It shouldn't have been this way, but as he dragged Carrow and his father together, Harry knew what had to be done. Nobody had seen him but Greengrass and Carrow. Carrow was unconscious, barely clinging to life and nobody would ever believe Greengrass. The note took him a moment, just a few words scrawled in a hurry as voices sounded at the bottom of the stairs.

Then all it took was the press of a button and a simple spell to change the colour of his eyes.

After all, everyone had always said he looked like his father.

AN: Prompt - Closed loop time travel