Prologue: Time Turns and Unforgivables

Authors Note: Hello Everyone! I want to start off with- This chapter is an updated edit of the old one. I'm currently revamping and reposting. Therefore the quality really, ah, takes a bit of a turn after this chapter. I'm also cross posting this on AO3 (Archive of Our Own) under the same name if you prefer reading there.

Twenty years had passed since the first war had ended.

The first war.

It would be easy to say that fifteen of those years had seen peace- But that wasn't entirely true. The atmosphere of the wizarding community, at least that of Great Britain, had suffered in the following years. Rounding up straggling Death Eaters and sympathizers to the cause had been a full time job, one Harry Potter had eventually taken part in upon his inevitable initiation into the role of Auror. The Ministry had been gutted, purged of anyone whose intentions had been less than pure. Inquisitions had proved mostly fruitfall, but as to be expected, there were those who slipped through the cracks.

Years were spent recovering from the Dark Lords reign, and ultimately it had been futile. That was how the Daily Prophet had spun it for the last year or so. It had taken fifteen years for those who had successfully escaped justice to rally, but rally they had.

It had began as rumors, really. At first, rumors that the Dark Lord had returned. Whispers in the night, children of the war fretful that they would live their childhood much like their parents had. The Ministry had refused to acknowledge or give sway to any such talk, for to do so would be to give the rumors power. It wasn't until wizards, muggle borns in particular, had began to disappear in droves that the Ministry acknowledged that there was a growing problem. Children were being pulled from school, families were emigrating at an alarming rate. The Ministry had been forced to act- Forced to launch an investigation and reluctantly declare a state of emergency, knowing that doing so would cause nationwide panic but refusing to follow in the footsteps of their stubborn predecessors. As fear gripped the country, those responsible grew bold, ruthless. Schools had been shut down, communities formed, bonded so tightly that strangers were not only unwelcome, but on occasion treated with lethal hostility. The Ministry fought to control the narrative, maintain its newly found image of action and outcome. Unfortunately, the Ministry and all of its good deeds over the years, was no match for the media- The Daily Prophet.

The Dark Lord Returns?

Are You Prepared for the War to Come?

No One in or Out - Ministry Shuts Down Borders

Hogwarts Student Blaise Zabini Behind Muggle Born Attacks: An Expose

The trio, and all of those who had been in or directly around their year at Hogwarts, had reeled. Blaise Zabini had been known only as a Slytherin and loose companion of Draco Malfoy. His family had been Pure Bloods, but maintained, for the most part, a reputation of neutrality. Regardless, the families familiarity with known Death Eater and other sympathizers had meant being put through rounds of inquiries, and Harry in particular had made it a point to sit in on Zabini's.

Nothing untoward had been discovered- Blaise had toed the line between complete neutrality and disapproval. Harry had been disgusted at his peers complacency, but otherwise no threat had been posed and Blaise had been released. A grave mistake, one that made Harry's stomach turned whenever he lay at night thinking about his family and those of his friends future. Were they really facing another war?

South African, German, Bulgarian Ministries Attacked: Ministers Assassinated

The situation had escalated quickly, and no more were the horrors isolated to just the Greater United Kingdom. Zabini's rhetoric had spread like wildfire throughout the magical community and communities everywhere were fighting to put it out. Something about the man's strategy had rung different than his predecessor- Somehow found itself more organized and strategic. It was much less a chaotic, scattered and that coupled with the residual fear of the era that had just come to an end, made the panic all that much greater. Though the atmosphere was dim, everyone had turned towards their beacon of light - Harry Potter - for guidance. Afterall, he had defeated the greatest dark wizard the world had ever known, right?

Hogwarts, despite its best effort at making a full recovery from the battle that brought down its walls, had closed. The restoration process had been well underway before being abandoned as this new threat seemed to close in on every wizarding household. For protection, and to create a more unified front, the property which houses the Burrow, now housed nearly one hundred families. Living conditions were rough, and the area had quickly become its own little community of healers, cooks, and product producers popping up throughout their encampment. Small houses had began to spring up where previously there had been tents and small shacks- All in all, things were relatively well considering the state of the world outside those carefully constructed wards.

It was a Saturday afternoon and the Weasley and Potter family had somehow managed to squeeze into the Burrow for a family night, attempting to maintain some semblance of normalcy for their children. All of whom took up most of the floor space when they weren't perched on parents laps. Despite the constricted space, the general atmosphere was cozy and merry. For a time.

George had just finished his dramatic retelling of how he and his brother Fred had managed to run that horrid pink toad Umbridge from the grounds of Hogwarts when the crackle of their fire lit up green and Susan Bones stepped out into their living room. Susan was not head of the Department of International Affairs and had been missing for the past six months. In a moment all of the adults were on their feet, putting themselves between the wayward ministry worker and their children. Already the older siblings were pushing the younger into the other room while at the same time trying to keep an eye on the events unfolding in front of the fireplace. Percy Weasley, the interim Minister of Magic had taken a cautious step forward, unsure whether he should greet the woman, or raise his wand. It mattered little, as most of the others either hand their wands out, or a hand on where they were secured strapped against their thigh. Susan's skin was unnaturally pale and her eyes were glassy. She was both present and not- Though her body stood before them, it was very clear that her mind was gone from this world.

Imperious.

Harry was not the first to notice, but he was the first to react. As his wrist flicked upward, mouth open to hurl a curse at her, Susan spoke. Everyone drew pause. The body's voice was monotone, forced.

"Mr. Potter, you'll be pleased to know that both the American and Russian Ministries have fallen, my men in place, and are now exclusively under my control. Britain is next." As the voice of Susan Bones faded into nothingness, the spell was released and her body collapsed to the ground. The younger children who had managed to peak around the corner, unnoticed by their older siblings who stood just inside the room, cried out and burst into tears. Molly Weasley turned sharply and bustled them out of the room, pulling at the arms of those older siblings who had done nothing but stare, open mouthed in shock and horror. With the children gone, everyone began speaking at once. It was Bill Weasley who brought fingers to lips and let out a whistle that had everyone wincing.

"Alright, quiet you lot. One at a time." He, as did the others, turned towards Harry whose eyes had never left the body of Susan Bones. Another casualty- Another peer lost to the war. Or rather, a survivor of one war only to be lost to another. He let out a shuddering breath and he turned to Ginny, giving her a sharp nod.

Ginny, once a growing star in the Quidditch community had turned her efforts towards healing when rumors of what was to come could no longer be dismissed as merely that- Rumors. She had found herself a highly sought after healer in the community and didn't hesitate in rushing to assist Susan, hoping dearly that the woman might be alive, even if just barely. For naught. Susan Bones was, without question, dead and mostly likely had been for several days. She turned to look at the others and gave a small shake of her head. The room let out a collective breath, saddened by the confirmation of what they all knew to be true. Harry's voice was nearly a growl when he spoke.

"Zabini has to be stopped. Tonight."

The others, though not disagreeing, side eyed each other as Harry looked down at the fragile body of his former classmate. If it were as easy as tonight, wouldn't it have already been done? Wouldn't the Boy Who Lived and his close friends already done it? Ron, Harry's best mate, said nothing as he turned and took the stairs one at a time. Hermione's gaze followed him, frowed just a bit before softening.

"Harry, how are you suggesting we find him? He's slipped through the fingers of nearly every ministry on this side of the globe. I support you, but we need to have a plan."

"The plan," Harry began, "is to kill Blaise Zabini."

Hermione's gaze met Ginny's, something passing between them that could effectively be translated to, 'he's going to rush in half-cocked, isn't he?'

"We'll go with you." Bill and Fleur were already pulling coats on, but Harry shook it head.

"No- I don't want anyone else going. Nobody else will die at the hands of Blaise Zabini, most especially not my family. This family has sacrificed too many as is. His eyes flickered to George, who was notebly not making eye contact with anyone. He had an arm wrapped securely around Angelina who in turn had a hand fisted in the front of her husband's shirt, a silent plea not to leave her.
It was then that Ron came barging down the stairs having changed into something much more conducive to fighting the cause. He walked right over to his best and dearest friend and dropped a hand to the man's shoulder, "Let's do this."

Hermione approached the both of them, a sad smile playing at her lips, but Ron stopped her, "You aren't going."

At this Hermione blinked, raising both of her eyebrows in wonderment and took a step back before speaking.

"I'm sorry, I thought I heard you tell me that I wasn't going. Surely I misheard, because my Ronald wouldn't be so obtuse and careless as to tell me what I can and cannot do. Especially after everything we've been for. So, would you like to try again?"

Ron had the decency to look ashamed as he cleared his throat, "Do you have your wand, my dear?" Hermione may work in the Department of Mysteries, but everyone was of the understanding that she was just as capable as both her husband and best friend. They had all seen her abilities firsthand. At his backpedaling Hermione's face softened and she squeezed his hand. Just now she was certain that nobody wanted to see their loved one rush into the battle that was sure to happen on this night. She and Ron made their goodbyes to those in the room before heading up the stairs to comfort their children and kiss them goodnight. Neither one of them acknowledged their fear of the unknown, of how the night would end.

In front of the fireplace, Harry turned to his wife, "I know you want to come and I have no doubt of the asset you would be, but I have to ask you to stay here, Ginny. Please. With the children" It pained him nearly as much as it pained her to think of him walking into what was to come without her. Ginny bit the inside her cheek and nodded, eyes closing against a few stray tears.

"Of course," her voice soft and a little choked up. Harry' expression crumbled and he pulled her tight against his chest, burying his face into her soft hair and inhaling her scent. His chest hurt. Decades now, it felt like, had his family seen strife and pain. It was exhausting, devastating to the wizarding community. If all went to plan, tonight would at least see the General's head cut off. And perhaps this time, it would be enough to finally quell the potential for future vile insurgents. Finally he pulled away, eyes meeting Ginny's passing on everything he couldn't bring himself to say out loud.

"I love you very much," he whispered, words just meant for the two of them. "I'll come back to you. You'll wake up to me in the kitchen come morning, frying you all the eggs in the world."

"Burning them," she huffed through more tears, glancing off to the side. Harry brought his hands up to cup her face, thumbs wiping away her wayward tears.

"You're probably right about that." He grinned, trying to instill some level of comfort into his wife, knowing she was unlikely to sleep at all that night.

"I'm always right, don't you know?"

"Then you already know that I'll be back come morning."

Harry leaned in, brushed his nose against hers and leaned in for a kiss. Her lips were warm as they moved against his and once again Harry's heart ached at the thought of walking away. But that he did, he squeezed her hand and stepped away.

"We need to determine the best way to find Zabini."

Charlie, who stood next to his wife, opened his mouth to speak, but as if the heavens above had heard his prayer, the floo flared to life for the second time that night. A tall aristocratic blonde stepped through the fireplace and glanced around, eyes seeking Harry's while with a flick of his wand all of the suit tarnishing his three piece suit was gone. He glanced between Susan's body and the others before once again meeting Harry's gaze.

"I see you managed to locate Susan Bones." His voice was calm, unwavering. Though Harry would never call Draco friend, the two had found a mutual respect for the other. This time around, Draco Malfoy had made it clear under no circumstance would he even give the allusion of siding with Blaise Zabini. He had taken up arms with the Aurors, given them every iota of information he had on the man and his family, and promised to give word if the man every dawned his doorstep.

"She arrived not long ago under the Imperious." His voice was also unwavering as he relayed the witches message to Draco.
"Her family will be sad to hear it. I could send Astoria to speak with them," his voice was almost a question. Harry shook his head.

"Ginny will go. She'll be best equipped to handle it." He turned to Bill and Charlie, eyes conveying a question, and the two of them crossed the room to remove Susan's body from where it lay on the floor. "Draco, why are you here? Has something happened?"

Draco smiled gently, having come to appreciate the distant companionship of the Boy Who Lived. "They're alright, doing well. I've got a heavily guarded manor in Northern Ireland and thus far we haven't had any cause for concern. I've came to tell you of the fallen ministries, but I see that you already know."
Harry nodded. "We do- And the plan is to find him, even if it takes us days." His voice was thick with conviction, and he thought back to his promise to Ginny, one they both knew hadn't been the entire truth. Neither Harry nor the others would be back until they'd accomplished what needed to be done.
Draco smirked knowingly, and expression that had Harry narrowing his eyes just slightly. "I suppose," he drawled, "it would days, months even… That is, if I hadn't come to you tonight not only with news of the ministries, but also with news of Zabini's whereabout. As you know, all things considered, I still keep my ear to the ground. I hear things, out and about, a few old colleagues try and recruit me now and again, determined that information of Zabini's stability and coming plans will somehow lure me into a cause that seems, in their minds, to have an end in sight. That being said, this could all be an elaborate set up to lure you out into the open, but I wouldn't do you the disservice of not sharing the information." Harry huffed.

"Then share it, Malfoy. You're killing me here." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Well as it happens, the man of the hour is planning a visit to the Hogwarts ruins. It's my belief that he's searching for something there, but I couldn't begin to guess what it would be. That place has been in shambles for year, and I thought the ministry has excavated and taken all of the artifacts from it that they could salvage."

"That doesn't mean they salvaged everything though," Hermione's voice came from the doorway. The two had returned to see what was holding Harry up. Both of them had been surprised to see the former Slytherin standing before them.

"Malfoy," Ron dipped his head in respect, though his voice held thinly veiled disdain. Draco merely nodded in return.

"So, Hogwarts?" Hermione turned to Harry. "If this information is relatively fresh, then we have no time to waste."

"You're right, let's get going." Before Harry cleared the living area he turned back, "Thank you, Draco. And do me a favor, will ya? Send word to Luna and Neville. They'll check in with Ginny come morning." Without waiting a response, he was out the door.

The war had left Hogwarts in a state of pure tragedy. Harry and his friends found themselves among rubble and debris. It was not only painful to see, but it brought flashes of the horrors from that night to Harry's mind eye and he shut his eyes tight. Little good that did- It only made the images for vivid.

"I hate being here."

"We all do, mate. It's not healthy."

Harry and Hermione nodded silently before trekking on. Ron grumbled about how the whole thing had better not be a setup, though they all knew that it likely was. Hermione pulled out her wand and whispered, "Point me Blaise Zabini." Her wand swiveled this way and that, not really settling on any particular direction.

"If Blaise is here," Harry began, "We must not be close enough. All we can do is wing it."

"Well, we'd better wing it fast." Ron nearly tripped over a piece of rubble and just barely saved himself from following. In the distance they heard a giggle. The turned sharply, wands out and ready to hex, when they all froze. There, several feet in front of them, was Moaning Myrtle. Harry blinked. He hadn't thought of the ghost in nearly a decade, and he certainly hadn't considered the very real possibility that the Hogwarts ghosts may still roam the ground.

"Harry," she said, nearly simpering, "you've gotten so much older. I've missed you dearly- Why don't you come visit me anymore? There are so many fun games we can play!" Myrtle sidled up close to him and Harry side eyed the others, worried that she might alert anyone else in the area of their presence.

"Uh, Myrtle. I would love to chat, really I would, but I need your help."

"That's all you ever need from me," she moaned. "Everyone wants my help, to boss me around. Myrtle wear was the Headmasters office? Myrtle, tell me where the Chamber of Secrets was. Myrtl, if you don't tell me what I want to know, I'll banish your spirit to the Other World. It's absolutely horrid." The ghost began to turn in the other direction but it was Hermione who stopped her.

"Moaning Myr- I mean Myrtle, it's terrible that you've been mistreated as such. Tell us who's been making demands and we'll take care of it for you." The ghost eyed her cautiously, looking between the three of them before raising her eyes to the sky.

"The one they all whisper about when they come to scavenge the Halls of Naught. Blaise Zabini. He had always been so kind to me when he was in school- Never as bossy as tonight. Rude. I'll never speak to him again." She wailed and the trio flinched. They could only hope that it was not an unusual occurrence on this hallowed ground to hear her cries.

"Myrtl," Harry began cautiously. "I'm sorry to bother you, but- Have you seen Zabini tonight? We would very much like to set him straight for you, make sure he doesn't bother you again." The girl pouted but quietly pointed off in the direction behind the trio before turning and floating off, wailing into the night.

It wasn't long after their encounter with the ghost that they came upon a few of Zabini's men. The goons were easily stunned, almost suspiciously so. Harry couldn't help but feel that this was a trap afterall. It was here that Hermione's point me spell actually registered the wizards location. They hadn't gotten 50 yards before Ron, for real this time, fell while trying to climb over some of the rumble they couldn't safely go around, and cried out in surprise. Harry hauled up onto his feet, hand clamped over the redheads mouth, but it was too late. In mere moments they were surrounded by what once would have been termed Death Eaters.

Harry sighed and Ron mumbled an apology, the three of them only have paying attention to the other as they turned so their backs were pressed together. "It's only six of them," Hermione huffed, confidently. "We can do this in our sleep." It was mostly a show of cockiness to those who surrounded them. Though, no doubt, Hermione was feeling confident enough to take on the lot with ease. Nearly.

It was Ron who made the first move, hoping to catch the man closest to him off guard and, taking an unusual tactic for him, immediately stepped forward, pulled his arm back before following through with such strength and speed that the man's jaw cracked with such a noise that everyone paused in favor of watching the man drop to the ground in pain. The man's companions collectively winced and Harry and Hermione used the distraction to their advantage. Harry, preferring wands over fists, cast the first spell, effectively stunning an unsuspecting attacker.

"Crucio!"

A voice cried out that… wasn't Hermione? Harry and Ron both turned, surprised to see that Hermione was the one who had cast the spell. With her opponent weakened, the brunette flicked her wand and sent the woman flying backwards. She watched as the woman's head struck stone and collapsed to the ground. Hermione having the unexpected effect of catching the boys off guard meant that they both had been easily struck by their remaining three attackers. Harry found himself on the ground, crying out in a pain not dissimilar to the cries of the girl Hermione had cast the same curse on. On the other end of things, Ron had been hit with a cutting curse, a bad one. He doubled over, hands pressed to his side. The pain was nearly unbearable, but he gained his footing again and stood tall as his body would allow, twisting so that he could throw a hex over to the wizard who had Harry on the ground in pain. Curses flew red, purple, and blue through the air as Hermione found herself taking on two of their assailants. Harry lie on the ground for a moment or two, nerves singing and body twitching before he winced and pulled himself to his feet. Between Hermione and the two injured men, they managed to subdue their remaining attackers and regroup.
"Ronald, are you alright?" She was at her husband's side, pressing a hand against his wound as if she could stem the blood flow. It was Harry, having approached her from behind, who ran the tip of his wand along Ron's wounds to seal them. He was no Healer like his wife, and only half as good as Hermione, but it would due for the time being. At this point there was no way that the wizard they sought knew he had company. The three needed to move quickly.

Around the rubble, over heaping piles, they finally came upon Blaise Zabini, who stooped in front of ruins that looked, ironically, reminiscent of what was once the corner of a wall. Ron smirked.

"Backed into a corner now, Zabini." The man didn't react where he was bent over the dirt, fingers methodically brushing over something he must have just uncovered. He spoke without turning towards the lot.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley, for your sharp wit," his voice was scathing and sarcastic.

"Should you really taunt your capturerers?" Hermione's voice was unwavering as they all had their wands trained on the other man officials had been seeking out for years. This night had been all to easy, a fact that escaped none of them. They were on guard, feeling something was amiss in the way that Zabini not only didn't seem responsive to their presence, but had been so careless in his being there. It felt as if he carried no worries in the world, something that made the others highly uneasy.

Zabini sneered at her as he rose to his full height. "Do not speak to me you vile mudblood." He spit in her general direction but never made move for his wand, instead he had both hands cradling a small object. Neither of the group could make out what it was.

Here, Harry expected Ron to attack- Had they been back in Hogwarts, he certainly would have. But age and experience had taught them restraint, and Harry was grateful for it, knowing full well the difficulty it must have been. It was a restraint that Severus Snape, critic of all Gryffindor's, would have approved of. Maybe.
Surprisingly it was Hermione's hand who flicked to the right, bringing the dark wizard to the ground, contorting in pain. It lasted a mere few seconds, but it had been long enough for the message Hermione was trying to convey sink in. Harry wondered how often Zabini had actually found himself on the receiving end of a cruciatus curse, for he was now leaned back against the corner, breathing hard, chest heaving so to catch his breath.

Zabini looked up at the trio, all having taken another step closer, wands trained on the man's heart. Even now Zabini's face split into a cocky grin. It made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck bristle. He raised his hand and muttered something that the trio couldn't here, but in the next instant the dirt and sand lifted from its place on the ground and circled them, a whirlwind of energy and earth entrapping them. Their vision was blocked and they had all raised an arm to cover their eyes. Hermione bent over just long enough to raise her wand and call out arresto momentum without inhaling dirt and soot. The whirlwind didn't entirely stop, but it slowed down long enough for them to see Zabini.

The wizard had picked something up from the rubble, something hanging by a long, very familiar, chain. He placed it around the neck and held out the encircled hourglass. Hermione gasped, a muttered, "But they were all destroyed our fifth year... How?"

The Gryffindor trailed off as Zabini grinned maniacally and flicked the notch, staring intently into the hourglass. Without thought the trio raised their wands through the dirt and shouted, "Avada Kedavra."

Bright green light burst like the sun out the tip of their wands in all direction and positively filled the space around them all. The only thing to be heard aside from Blaise Zabini's final cry into the night was the resolute sound of glass shattering.