/** Here it is. The beginning of my first fiction. As a quick heads up, this story will fall under the assumption that most relationships and events will follow the canon in the alternate timeline. This will not be a story about Sirius Black miraculously being let free in first year, nor will the Chamber of Secrets be avoided. If that is not to your liking, then by all means, don't read this. I will try to update regularly, but I can't make any promises. If I go on hiatus, I will give you advanced notice, so don't worry about that. */

Disclaimer: If it wasn't already obvious, I am not J.K. Rowling, and I do not own the rights to the Harry Potter franchise.

Prologue

It was all Harry could do not to break down sobbing. Aurors were roaming the cottage he had called home for 7 years. He wanted to shout at them, curse them, banish them to the hell he now resided in. But most of all, he just wanted answers: where were they when she needed them most? Why couldn't they save her? Why couldn't I save her? The last one haunted him the most. He wasn't there for Ginny when she needed him. And now, she was gone forever.

Every year the Wizarding World mourned the loss of friends and family and celebrated the heroic defeat of Lord Voldemort on 2nd May, 1998. The celebration was termed—quite appropriately—Victory Day. A magnificent ball was held at the Ministry of Magic, and all those present at the battle were invited, as well as their families.

It was there that Harry was expected to give a speech every year. He'd long since gotten over his stage fright, and wizards and witches alike still looked to him for guidance, even after numerous years had passed. Having Ginny there to support him didn't hurt either.

Of course, just as the Wizarding World still looked to him as a champion for Light, Dark Arts practitioners still looked to him as an evil to be snuffed out. It seemed as though they'd learnt their lesson after numerous failed attempts to get close to him, much less kill him. However, it was not so. They simply chose to change their target. The moment to strike was chosen after much deliberation, and it could not have ended sooner.

When he'd first seen her expressionless face, forever frozen, he was thankful she hadn't suffered. Her eyelids were draped over the chocolate brown eyes he'd never see again, and her lips were still the same kissable pink they'd been when he married her. There wasn't a mark on her, though her skin was icy to the touch. If it weren't for that, she could've been sleeping peacefully. He'd watched her sleep enough times, after all. Her chest would slowly rise and fall, and the corners of her lips would occasionally tug up in a ghost of a smile. Harry closed his eyes and focused on that memory. He knew it wouldn't last forever, but he wanted—no, needed—it a while longer.

A hand grasped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Harry opened his eyes and turned to see Ron standing behind him. His eyes were red and glazed over, and his lips were pressed tightly together. Hermione's face was buried in his shoulder. Every so often her frame would violently shake.

"Mum—" Ron's breath caught in his throat, "Mum wants to see you."

Harry nodded and stood from his seat. Aurors cleared a path for him as he walked to the sitting room. There, on the sofa was Molly Weasley, or Mum as she'd insisted he call her. Bill was on her left rubbing circles into her back and staring off into nothing. George was on her right staring at his lap.

"Mum." Harry managed to breathe out.

She looked up from her hands and smiled at him. It wasn't the same warm smile he was used to, and it didn't quite reach her eyes. It was the same smile she gave George after Fred died.

She threw her arms around him and squeezed him in a motherly hug. After retreating, she took a deep breath and again looked to Harry. He stood staring at nothing in particular while her eyes searched his.

"How are you holding up, Harry dear?" That was the one question he wished she wouldn't ask.

"Fine." His voice was hoarse. They both knew it wasn't true, but it was the only thing he could force out. She reached a hand up to press against his cheek.

"Good." She managed to squeeze out before falling back to the sofa and openly weeping once more. Harry continued to stare at her. As much as he tried, he couldn't bring himself to comfort her. He turned and walked back to the chair in which he previously resided.

Before he could reach it, however, a firm hand tapped his shoulder. He faced the hand's owner to see one of the Aurors. He couldn't place his face, but he knew his title.

"There's something you should know, Mr. Potter." Harry was only half-listening, but he nodded. The man steered him to the mostly empty kitchen, with no resistance.

The man's eyes were at the floor, and his head was turned away from him. Harry patiently waited for the man to speak, not that he had to be anywhere else at the moment.

"Er—the Mediwizards on staff," the man gulped and turned to face him directly, "they found evidence—only evidence, mind you—that the victim was… expecting."

Harry only made it halfway out of the room before falling to his knees. This was the straw that broke the camel's back. His heart felt like someone had ripped it out and stomped on it. The tears fell for what seemed like an eternity. He could only just make out people moving around him, and helping him to the sofa in the sitting room. Many pairs of arms draped themselves around him, but he remained unmoving.

Ginny and he had talked about starting a family for years. She'd been playing professional Quidditch for the Holyhead Harpies since graduating Hogwarts, but they agreed she would retire if she were ever to get pregnant. All of their plans had fallen apart. The wife and future children he'd dreamed of now rested with his parents. They would never come back.

He continued to cry until his tears ran dry, and even continued to shake and sob violently past that. However, it could only continue for so long, and he eventually shut his eyes and welcomed sleep with open arms.

Nightmares had plagued his sleeping hours for years, but that night they stayed away. Behind closed eyes, only his wife and imagined children haunted him.

Harry awoke to an empty house and a resolve like no other. He'd done the impossible before, defied all expectations, and broken the laws of magic more than once. He refused to let his fate keep him from happiness.

Many wondered what happened to him over the next few years. He remained isolated, save the times he went out to purchase supplies or books, usually in bulk.

His sacrifices weren't for naught, however. Exactly 5 years after his wife's tragic death, he had all of the necessary preparations. He would send himself back in time. Of course, magic is a very tricky thing. Books on the subject of time travel led him to discover that sending one back so far through time would leave their memories of the future destroyed and their magical core weakened. He didn't care. No sacrifice was too large in his mind.

So, finally, on the night of 2nd May, 2010, Harry Potter sent himself back in time.

/** There it was, the Prologue! It was a little short, but I mainly included it as an introduction to the actual story. Thank you for reading! */