DISCLAIMER: Your standardized disclaimer. I own nothing. Not Harry Potter or its universe, nor Quantum Leap or the Butterfly Effect. To the best of my knowledge, those are owned by JK Rowling, and a bunch of paranoid sci-fi fantasy writers; respectively. Please don't sue me.

1. OK, so apparently I am on a quest to have as many WIP's as possibly. Not by choice; my muse is wonky. This story is kind of The Butterfly Effect meets Quantum Leap meets Harry Potter.

2. No; this will not be a de-aged Harry fic.

3. I haven't decided whether or not to pursue my goal of hooking Hermione up with somebody other than Ron. Probably. But I'm trying to be nice to Ron in this fic, so we'll see how long that lasts.

Loves!

Roo

HDHDHD

"Why are we here again?"

Hermione ignored Ron's angry hiss and continued walking up the stairs of the isolated building. "We are here, Ron," she calmly began, "because we were invited to partake in an unusual opportunity of learning put upon by our peers and elite members of society."

Harry exchanged unimpressed looks with Ron. "So, in other words, The Boy Who Lived and his two best friends are wanted to endorse some pompous new discovery." Ron snickered.

"As a war hero you have a certain responsibility to the public." Hermione sighed at Harry's mutinous expression. "This really is a tremendous opportunity, Harry. Very exciting."

"I so could be doing better things right now."

"Yeah," Ron snickered; elbowing Harry affably on the shoulder. "Like dating my sister." They grinned at each other, even Hermione breaking out in a smile as she knocked on the door before them and waited for admittance.

The war had been over for six months now, and life was certainly nothing like the trio thought it would be. For starters, they couldn't really explain to the press that for the year they were gone they had been hunting Horcruxes. Harry shuddered to think of the depravities information of that magnitude would elicit from society. Best to keep that obscure branch of magic as quiet as possible. With witnesses extolling upon the near mythological nature of the Elder Wand, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been touted as the brightest and most powerful witch and wizards of the millennium. Neville, having killed Voldemort's familiar, was almost equally as popular; but was able to maintain his privacy behind the fierce wards of his manor home. Ron and Hermione had gotten together immediately following the battle, with Harry almost desperately asking Ginny out the minute the first flood of wedding contracts made their way to him.

Not that he wouldn't have gotten back together with Ginny anyway, he figured, it just seemed so very rushed. But he was happy. Mostly. Especially now that the Auror's had finished de-cursing Grimmauld Place and he was able to move back home. His and Ginny's relationship had improved greatly once they no longer saw each other every day. He frowned; ripped from his musings when the door opened and an attractive yet slightly nerdy looking man greeted them with an eager smile. "Hello! Please come in!" He shook their hands enthusiastically. "I'm Dr. Sam Beckett."

Rolling his eyes when it became apparent his friends were waiting on him to begin, Harry smiled affably. "Harry Potter. These are my best friends Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley."

"Pleasure! A real pleasure! Thank you for taking time to come down today. This is my friend Al," he gestured to a sexy dark haired man puffing on a cigar. "My friend Gushie," a nervous bloke who reminded Harry slightly of Wormtail. "And I am sure you are acquainted with your peers." Harry nodded a greeting to Minister Shacklebolt, the Malfoy family, Neville, the Bones family, and several people from the ministry he could not recognize by sight.

Harry sighed quietly, knowing that before he would be allowed to leave tonight nearly all the people would want to talk to him. "Its times like this I really miss our tent," he muttered wistfully. Sure, they had been running on adrenaline and sheer terror for the most part, but hanging out in a tent, isolated from the craziness of the world, with your two best friends? Beat socializing with strangers any day.

Ron sighed in agreement. "You're telling me." He looked at Harry hopefully. "Maybe after this we can ditch Hermione and head out for a pint of bitter?"

"I heard that," Hermione hissed. She softened, seeing how much they truly were not looking forward to being there. "Please?" She begged softly. "Just play nicely for an hour and then you can run screaming for the hills if you want. This really is a tremendous opportunity."

"An hour?" Ron sighed fervently. "Hermione, I love you." She shushed them then, looking pleased. Coffee and tea were quickly sorted out, the trio joining the masses. "Still not sure why you had to testify on behalf of the Malfoy's," Ron grumbled sourly.

"Teddy." Harry answered simply. Ron flushed, dropping the subject with a nod.

Neville, having gravitated to their side with a look of relief, looked confused. "Teddy? Your Godson? What does he have to do with the Malfoy's?"

"Enough families have been torn apart by war," he answered softly. Neville looked like he wanted to argue the matter, but dropped the subject when Ron put a gently restraining hand on his arm. Harry smiled at his friend in thanks.

"Thank you for inviting us!" Hermione enthused. "The area of Quantum Physics is utterly fascinating. And the way you have intermixed Muggle and Magical means? Brilliant!" Harry noticed Draco rolling his eyes from across the room and bit his lip to keep from grinning in response. The blond looked startled by this reaction, but shrugged and gave a half smile in response. He, like Harry, clearly had no idea what was going on.

"It truly is record breaking," Shacklebolt tuned into the conversation in his deep quiet voice. "And the advancements that could be made if Muggle intelligences could be combined with magic? Truly impressive."

Dr. Beckett looked embarrassed but pleased. "Yes, well, if you would all follow me I will be happy to start the tour." Harry sighed when Hermione tugged his arm and forced him to follow. Ron sighed as well, grumbling under his breath low enough that Hermione couldn't hear.

"You sure you want to marry her?"

Dr. Beckett broke off from his description when Ron gave a loud snort of laughter. Waiting until conversation resumed and Hermione stopped glaring, Ron leaned forward to whisper. "Yeah, I'm pretty stuck on the notion. Just think," he continued on blithely, "in a couple years me and Hermione will be putting our kids on the Hogwarts Express with yours and Ginny's kids. It'll be the third generation of Marauders!"

Harry smiled weakly, wondering if the thought of producing offspring with Ginny should fill him with this quiet panic. "All right there, Harry?"

Leave it to Neville to spot his discomfort. "Fine," he whispered back. "Just, you know," he gestured. "Quantum Physics. What the hell is that?" Neville gave him a measured look but let the topic drop.

"And this design actually works?" Lucius Malfoy's expression was indecipherable as he studied the contraption before him.

"Oh yes!" Sam looked slightly uncomfortable. "Well, I believe so. I will be trying it out later this summer at our lab in New Mexico. They're putting pressure on the funding available, and I plan to test it out personally to assure them of its safety."

Harry tuned back out. It wasn't that he minded, per se, the public appearance. His friends, after all, screened the multitude of invitations he received and always accompanied him to events. Never abandoning him to the greedy clutches of the fanatically grateful public. It's just; once again, he was looked upon like property. At least when Dumbledore, and oh wasn't that thought still accompanied by a bright pang of loss, had been shaping him, it was done with a genuine desire to help him survive. Now… now it was all a publicity game. Letting people pet him and express their gratitude and reassuring the public that yet another defender of all things light and good wouldn't disappear. Truly? Sometimes he wanted to gag himself.

"… Be happy to give a slight demonstration. Hey Gushie? You want to get the controller?"

Blinking back into awareness, Harry became aware that the group had shifted slightly during the oh-so-exciting scientific discussion. Somehow, he now found himself towards the back of the group. This was certainly fine with him as he no longer felt like an ant under a microscope. Ha! Listen to that analogy. And Hermione said he didn't have a true appreciation for science. He grinned to himself as the nervous looking man identified as Gushie hustled towards a large square of blinking multi-colored lights labeled 'Ziggy' and began tapping out a code. Ziggy came to life with a loud whirring and clacking noise. The machine directly behind Harry coming to life with a loud hum of noise.

Everyone was startled by the noise. Shacklebolt, Lucius Malfoy, Neville, Ron, Hermione, and Harry instinctively pulled their wands; war having refined their reflexes. Unfortunately, Amelia Bones and Draco Malfoy also attempted to pull their wands at the same time and crashed into each other. Off balance, Amelia instinctively turned her body to the side to lessen the impact of her fall. But instead of falling to the floor, Amelia shoved into Harry. Hard. Off balance, Harry staggered back slightly, and gracefully slid into the opening of the time portal.

A brilliant flash of light made everybody scream. Hermione tossed her tea cup aside to grip Ron's arm. Thrown off balance, Ron's cup was knocked from his grasp as well. Both cups landed on the bank of computers a shocked Gushie was standing behind. With a quiet fizzle and a puff of metallic smelling smoke, the machine bleeped out. Everything went suddenly very dark and very quiet.

"Lumos." Neville looked petrified; holding his lit wand aloft as he searched for Harry.

"Auntie Amelia?" Susan Bones was white faced and trembling; her hands slowly rising to cover her mouth. "Where's Harry?"

"Where'd he go?" Draco's voice sounded more high pitched and shaky than the other students were used to. No one commented, though. The panic rising as the assembled group all realized Harry was no longer with them.

"He was knocked inside." Hermione's voice trembled as she took a shaky step forward. "Just inside," she repeated. And then she was rushing, Ron and Shacklebolt right behind her. Shoving through the group until they reached the sleekly assembled machine. The empty machine. "He must have slid all the way through," her voice was rising in hysteria. "Harry!"

"There's only one entrance and exit." Al was standing there, slack jawed, cigar nearly falling out of his mouth as he stared in wonder at the empty vessel.

"No matter." Dr. Beckett rushed to Gushie's side. "We can trace him. If my research is correct, then Harry will have been turned into a holographic projection and his neurons and mesons should be linked through Ziggy here. We will simply connect with him and bring him back." He smiled reassuringly.

"Boss," Gushie's voice was shaking. "Dr. Beckett, sir?" He gestured to the smoking machine. "Ziggy's down."

"What do you mean Ziggy's down?" Ron looked ready to commit murder. Neville and Draco turned their wands threateningly on the trembling man.

Shacklebolt raised a placating hand. "Everyone will please remain calm." He turned serious eyes towards the scientists before him. "Dr. Beckett?"

"Down?" Sam's voice rose. "It can't be down! If we just…" he trailed off, Al coming over to help fiddle with this button and that knob. The machine hummed sickly, causing everyone to turn towards it in hope. Two blue lights lit up and twinkled brightly before the machine crashed with a wet sort of splutter.

HDHDHD

First, and most importantly, Harry knew he wasn't dead.

After all, he did have the distinct honor of surviving the killing curse not once but twice. And while he couldn't attest to his reaction the first time, being as he was only fifteen months old, the second time was nothing like this. For one, he was fully clothed. That was the first thing he checked, having no desire to see his parents or Dumbledore or some random figment of his imagination while naked. Beyond that…well. Second, he wasn't really anywhere. Not King's Cross or Hogwarts or the Burrow or anywhere he would really want to be. He was just kind of floating in this weird milky white haze of nothingness. Waiting for something to happen. He hated waiting. A noise made him turn his head to the left where he very briefly saw two twinkling blue orbs.

Son of a bitch. If Dumbledore was messing with his life again he was… he was… well, he was just going to make his after life a living hell!

In all honesty, the floating was getting just a bit tedious. He finally fell asleep out of sheer boredom. Waking up, Harry had no idea if hours or minutes had passed. All he knew was that his boring white world had vanished; replaced by inky darkness and cramped quarters. He groaned, stretching, his hands brushing against rough wood that was as comforting as it was frighteningly familiar. Harry stiffened as a horrible thought occurred to him. Reaching out through the thick dark around him, Harry finally found what he hoped he would never have to find again. The string to the light for the cupboard under the stairs.

Pulling it, he sat there in stupefied silence. Ok, so… one minute he was walking through the room of a mad scientist, and the next he was at the Dursley's? A quick glance at his body showed small, scrawny limbs. OK, he amended, not only at the Dursley's but back in time somehow?

"Oh boy!"

Rising, he wandlessly opened the door and took a cautious step out of his prison. Cursing, yet again, the fact that he only knew about six wandless spells. He would definitely need to get his wand. Or get Hermione. She, after all, was up to seventeen spells she could cast without a wand. Harry and Ron had been too busy playing Quidditch and sleeping in and eating Mrs. Weasley's cooking and reveling in the sensation of no longer being on the run to care about preparing for NEWTS or life beyond them. He'd learned how to cast without speaking back in sixth year; after the war was over that was good enough for him. But wait. If he was a kid, then Hermione certainly would not be able to perform those spells anymore as she also didn't yet know she was magical. Damn it. Well, he could always find…. He froze, one foot on the landing, as the realization that if he was small Dumbledore was still alive hit him like a ton of bricks. He needed to get to Hogwarts.

"Dad!" Harry looked up at the shrill scream, glaring at the miniaturized version of Dudley standing in the doorway of the living room. "Harry's out of his cupboard! Harry's out of his cupboard, Dad!"

Vernon Dursley appeared behind his son, a quick flash of fear crossing his face before it fell into its habitual expression of rage and disgust. "Boy!" he thundered. "How did you get out of there?"

Harry smiled, stopping his mental cursing to cheer over the fact that the Accio charm was one of the few wandless spells he knew. Calmly holding out his hand, the vase from the end table floated towards him. Vernon went pale, Dudley's chins dropped. "Easy Uncle Vernon," Harry answered politely. "Magic."

He tossed the vase to his uncle. Vernon caught it reflexively, his face beginning to turn purple. Dudley was still frozen in shock. Figuring any platitudes could wait until he had talked to someone who could conceivably help him; Harry turned on his heel and walked out the door. Making sure to slam it behind him. Funny how satisfying that was.

Sighing, Harry stuck out his hand and flagged down the Knight Bus. "Err…" he found it rather difficult to look at Stan Shunpike considering the last time he had seen the man he had been fleeing with Hagrid on a motorcycle while being chased by Death Eaters. "I don't have any money, but I need to get to Hogwarts. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will pay you."

"Crikey." Stan looked shocked. "What happened to you? Hit by a bludger?"

Harry blinked, looking down at himself. He was thin, wearing Dudley's old baggy clothes, purplish bruises on his arm disappearing up the sleeve of his shirt. He sighed again, knowing from past experience the bruises probably continued onto his neck from being shoved into the cupboard or getting caught by his menace of a cousin. "Something like that."

Stan looked over Harry's shoulder to where Vernon was glaring out the window. His kind face froze. "No charge, no charge," he gently ushered Harry onto the bus and settled him onto a bed with a large mug of cocoa. "Off to Hogwarts Ernie!" He gave Harry a slightly pitying look of concern. "Went to Hogwarts me self, I did. Hufflepuff. If I know Madame Pomphrey, she'll have you fixed up in no time. Ye just drink your chocolate now; we'll be there soon enough."

The next thing Harry was aware of was being gently shaken awake. Waving off Stan's offer to walk him to the door with assurances he had walked this walk many times, he slipped through the gates and simply stared. Hogwarts was beautiful. Hogwarts was home. The castle glowed like the most welcoming of beacons; calling to him to enter. He hadn't been near his school since approximately one week after the battle. Long enough to help clear up the worst of the damage and inventory the dead and wounded. Long enough to make sure the last memory he held of the place was not waking up in his bed after a fitful sleep and seeing and smelling nothing but destruction upon leaving the sanctity of the tower. Seeing it now, without the humbling aura of hard won pride, brought tears to his eyes.

He stared at his feet while he tiredly walked to the castle; amazed at how much it hurt to be here. Bracing himself that Dumbledore would believe his crazy tale. Being preoccupied and walking the path by memory, he was understandably more than a little scared when he was plucked off his feet and pulled into strong arms. "Arry? 'Arry Potter is that you?"

"Hagrid." Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of his oldest friend, dropping his head wearily onto the strong shoulder. He must have drifted back to sleep, because the next thing he became aware of was Hagrid carefully passing him into much thinner arms.

"Potter?"

"Aye," Hagrid agreed anxiously. "Found the little type just past the gates. Careful o' his arm there. Lads a mite banged up."

The arms around him shifted his body carefully to examine his side. "Hmm. I'll take him to Pomphrey. Go alert Dumbledore, though I am certain he is already aware of a disturbance in the castle." Unable to relax as completely in these arms as he had with Hagrid, Harry opened his eyes and glazed blearily into the scowling face above him. Seeing his eyes open, Snape quietly asked. "How old are you Potter?"

"No idea." Harry yawned, missing the way dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What year is it?"

"1985."

"Oh." Harry blinked. Had it been anyone other than Snape he would have demanded to know if he was kidding. "Then I'm four, almost five."

"Hmm."

His eyes were so heavy. Whatever that annoying mist was, it certainly took a lot out of a person. "Need to talk to Dumbledore," he muttered sleepily. "Bright light, out of my body, hurts, so tired." He frowned. "But this isn't really real. Because you're dead. Like Dumbledore. But I'm not. Being dead is way different than this."

"Rest. I am taking you to the infirmary. Dumbledore will meet you there." The arms around him shifted again, holding him carefully so as not to apply pressure to his bruises.

Harry smiled at the consideration; marveling at the gentleness the greasy git was showing to a small child. "I'm starting to see why my mum liked you." He fell asleep just then; missing the way the man's step faltered and the commotion his presence caused in the infirmary.

HDHDHD

Harry had been missing for approximately four hours now.

In 1999, the assembled crowd was shifting uneasily. Neville, Susan, and Draco had dashed out upon Hermione's request. Returning with as many books on time travel, quantum physics, and any other books they deemed helpful. The four of them isolated themselves in the corner; flipping desperately through pages. Ron was pacing, tight lipped and white faced. Alternately glaring at the offending machine and glaring at the increasingly frantic scientists. Before the room had been locked down, several guests had fled. Word was leaked to the press that someone had harmed their darling savior. Shacklebolt had needed to call in Auror's to maintain their safety.

The heavy and uneasy silence was broken when Lucius Malfoy gave a sharp cry of pain and leaned heavily on his wife. Blood blossomed a vibrant red on hip as he pulled his clothing away. Those closest watched in fascination as a burned portion of flesh appeared, bled, and knitted closed right before their eyes; leaving a thin white scar in its wake.

"Lucius?" Narcissa clung to her husbands arm. The Malfoy family had been clingier than normal since the end of the war.

"Father?" Draco set his book aside and made to rise. "Father what happened?"

"I don't know." Normally veiled gray eyes blinked slowly in confusion. "I have no memory of this."

Narcissa whirled on the rest of the magical individuals surrounding her. "Who dared to curse my husband?"

Lucius held out a hand to his wife, preventing her from pulling her wand. "No," he said slowly. He looked at Narcissa is confusion. "I think Severus did this."

HDHDHD

So… thoughts?