Disclaimeré I don't own Harry Potter.

Of slithering second chances

Prologue

A victory was supposed to be something good, something that made one happy. So why? Why did it have to be so bitter?

Tears dropped from his face, his hair was hooding his sight. Not that he wanted to see that what was in front of him. Everyone he cared about died, their corpses spread out all over the battlefield.

Just a few days ago he had just laughed with them about what they wanted to do after everything was over. Ron, Hermione, they looked as happy as it was possible during the war. That day it was truly peaceful. But now… he just couldn't make himself look up and see their distorted corpses.

He couldn't even bring himself up to show any emotion on his face, just the tears that flowed on their own.

Yes, they had won; Voldemort was no more, his now empty black cloak lying on the ground. But what a price to pay. And Ginny… she actually wasn't even lucky not to be tortured before the Killing Curse was sent her way.

Harry felt empty, even though the sun was rising and a new day, a new era of peace was about to begin, he just didn't care anymore. He didn't belong here.

'What wouldn't I give just to see them alive again… '

Anything?

Harry stiffened at the strange voice.

Just for a chance to correct the time…

He finally found the courage to look around for the one speaking, but there was no one to be seen, alive at least.

…anything would do, right?

Maybe he just was going crazy. That wouldn't even be strange.

"…correct the time? … yes, a chance to do everything better, I would like that", he mumbled lowering his gaze again. Not that it really would happen.

So be it

And the darkness engulfed him.

It must have been noon, judging by the sunlight, when he came to himself. In fact that was the second thing he noticed after waking up, the first one being the change of surroundings. Instead of barren blood soaked earth he was lying on perfectly green grass. His body felt strange as he tried to sit up and look around. Everything seemed to be oddly… big.

He nearly gasped. This was the lawn of Privet Drive N. 4, Little Whinging, Surrey just as he remembered it before it was destroyed in an attack. Right now he was sitting near the shack for gardening tools. 'So that's why the grass…' his train of thoughts was broken as he glanced down. He screamed in horror:"What the hell?!"

No wonder he felt weird, here was the reason. He was a snake!

Harry's mind raced jumping from one crazy explanation to another no less insane than the one before.

"Boy, go water the flowers!" a shrill voice came from the house. Harry froze as he watched the doors at the other end of the lawn. "Yes, Aunt Petunia", he heard as a tall thin woman came out followed by a scrawny boy. "And don't you dare screwing this up!" his Aunt shot the boy a glare as she handled him a watering can. "Of course not, Aunt Petunia" mumbled the kid and made his way to the flowers.

'What's… going on? Is this a nightmare or some new kind of torture?' That boy over there was him, or at least a younger him. Just what was going on?

Suddenly memories of the aftermath of the final battle against Voldemort came back to him as he remembered. 'The voice! 'Just for a chance to correct the time anything would do', it said…' he glanced at himself as far it was possible. ' Long, slender body. With scales', he analyzed, 'yup, definitely a snake. Anything, huh?' He cursed under his breath.

Petunia Dursley shot his younger self a last glare and went inside.

Harry thought about whining at his current state, but had to admit that it was, would be his own fault, even if this was a nightmare. Maybe even his personal hell. 'Well, since it is supposed to be some twisted kind of a second chance, nothing will change if I just sit, or what ever snakes do, here nothing is going to change. But how…?' he nearly slapped himself for his own stupidity, not sure that that would have worked anyway. He was a parselmouth! 'Of course, that even starts making sense' he thought. 'Well, let's give it a try, not that I actually have anything better to do in this state' he concluded as he made his way to the rose bushes as a vague plan was forming inside his head.

A/N: Ta-dam! This is my take on second-chances-thematics, hung in my head for a week. I tried to write it easier so it wouldn't be so confusing to read as my dark memories fic (I'm so tempted to delete it and overwork that idea again, it might actually happen.) it' a prologue again and it's again short. What ever. If this story gets reviews it will be continued. Anything is accepted as review. yes, flames too. After my dmstory I really don't care about getting flames, I would just be happy to get ANY reaction, so

READ&REVIEW PLZ!