HELLOOOOOOO! I AM ON TO MY SECOND EVER STORY! I don't know how often I am going to write or how many are going to be oneshots and how many are gonna be multi-chap, and I don't know what fandoms I will mostly write for. Although the latter will probably Harry Potter… Anyway I don't know about anything yet, so a lot of everything will be random and crazy and confuse you! Anyway thank you to anyone who reads any of my stories. *HUGS ALL ROUND*

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in this story. They all belong to the wonderful JK Rowling!

Enjoy!

….

Harry Potter, inhabitant of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, husband of Ginevra Weasley, son of James and Lily Potter, godfather of Teddy Lupin and in-law to all the Weasleys, sat up in bed and reached for his glasses. He looked around and Ginny wasn't in the bed beside him, so she must have already left for quidditch practice. What time was it, then? He wandlessly cast a tempus charm, and the time appeared in front of him, in shimmering blue letters.

'9:35, 8TH SEPTEMBER 2003.'

He yawned and dragged himself out of bed. He had roughly 20 minutes to get ready, and then could floo to the ministry for work. He didn't have to be in until 10:00 on Mondays.

…

15 minutes later he was in the shower, when the noise signalling a floo call sounded. Harry jumped and hit his head against the shower. Swearing, holding his head and wrapping a towel around him at the same time, he raced to the dining room.

"Hello?" he panted as he ran. "You better have a good reason for calling on me!"

When he entered the room, he found the head of his best mate in the fireplace. "Harry! Come quickly! There's been an attack! Diagon Alley, get here ASAP!"

Ron disappeared without waiting for an answer. Without hesitation, Harry transfigured his towel into some robes and apparated to Diagon Alley.

The second he got there, he had to jump out of the way of a spell. He scanned the area. The fight was spread out quite far, and there were wizards and witches, some children even, hiding in all the shops. The fight was between a big group of men in their auror robes and a slightly bigger group of wizards in black robes. Death eaters. The aurors had rounded up many after the Battle of Hogwarts, but more turned all over the place, at random times. They hoped to gain revenge for their dead master, and they knew they wouldn't be accepted by most people even now, years after Voldemort's death.

Harry quickly cast stunners and hexes at all the nearest death eaters. The aurors were outnumbered, but had better skill, and could each take on more than one. Harry had already taken out roughly seven when he spotted a familiar red head.

"Ron!"

"Hey Harry, about time you got here!"

"Any casualties yet?"

"Don't think so."

Harry and Ron stood back to back, and fought together as they had for years. Individually they were both formidable foes, but Harry and Ron had spent years working as a team and knew what they were doing. None of the deatheaters could get a hex anywhere near them, as their shields were so strong, and they were taking out dozens of men each, every few seconds. The deatheaters didn't stand a chance.

Finally when it seemed all the deatheaters were down, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and started some spells to tie up the stunned deatheaters.

"HARRY!"

He turned around, shield forming, but he wasn't quick enough. The blue light hit him right in the chest.

…..

Harry moaned and slowly sat up. He looked around him. He was in Diagon Alley still, but it appeared to be empty. Where was Ron? It was also quite dark. How long had he been left here? What had that spell done to him?

He stood up carefully to test his legs. Only the second he stood up, he fell back down again in shock. He stared in disbelief at his legs.

Harry summoned a mirror from one of the nearby shops and stared in disbelief and horror. It was not the body he was used to staring back at him. It was one he had not seen in a very long time…

It was his 16-year-old self.

…

Harry slowly sank to the ground. He didn't understand what was happening… It must have been something in that spell that hit him. But that still didn't answer why the aurors left him here in the street…

Harry paced for a few seconds then stopped. "Wand" he whispered, and as he had set it to do, his wand flew from his arm holster to his hand. He didn't need to use his wand, but he often did as it avoided awkward questions. Everybody already thought he was a hero. The Daily Prophet would have a field day if someone (and it would probably be Rita Skeeter, who would make an even bigger deal out of it) found out he could do wandless magic.

He cast a tempus charm. Seeing the numbers in the air, he sank to the ground for the second time in the last few minutes.

'10:10, 8th SEPTEMBER 1976'