DISCLAIMER: All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites.

Full Summary: It has been eight years since the final confrontation between Harry and Voldemort and Harry survives his day to day life by burying himself in his work as an Auror for the Ministry under Scrimgeour. Each night he returns to the place he calls home – a small cottage in Godric's Hollow next to the empty lot where his parent's house once stood. On the evening of his 28th birthday, Harry will embark upon a journey that will lead him into the very depths of despair as he struggles to hold onto his identity while living the life of another.

AN: Before you begin reading the story, I wanted to take a moment to point out a few things. First, this fan fiction was written for the National Novel Writing Month competition of 2006 and was never beta'd.

Secondly, I'd like to make mention that this story will be slightly AU, though for the most part it does follow the major events of book six. In my version of year six, Snape did not teach DADA classes and Slughorn has not returned to teach potions. The rest of Harry's sixth year will remain pretty true to the events of HBP, though they will be viewed from a slightly different prospective in my story.

Thirdly, this story was written prior to the release of Deathly Hallows, and therefore makes no mention of any event(s) that occur during the seventh and final book. So please keep that in mind during the first few chapters.

That said; I hope you enjoy the story. – Jenn

The Lessons We Teach Our Self

Prologue Part 1 – Embracing Destiny

In the growing darkness a young man, in his mid to late twenties, stepped out of the air as a faint crack reverberated through the night air. His glasses hung askew and his robes looked slightly rumpled – as if his means of travel had been slightly unpleasant. He ran a nervous hand through his unruly black hair as his green eyes surveyed the quiet street in both directions. In the fingers of his right hand he held a thin wooden rod casually, yet confidently, as he took in his surroundings.

When it became apparent that his startling arrival had remained unnoticed, he silently slipped through the shadows towards a lone cottage that sat well back from the main road at the end of the lane. The very air seemed to crackle as he passed through an invisible barrier and if anyone would have been watching, they'd swear he'd disappeared as suddenly as he'd appeared.

In truth, he'd only passed through the protective wards that surrounded the neat little cottage and the empty lot that stood beside it. A soft sigh passed through his lips as he looked over his shoulder and gave the street behind him one last searching glance before tucking his wand into his back pocket. Smiling, he trotted briskly up the tidy walkway and jumped onto the porch with practiced ease – Harry Potter was home.

Once inside, Harry pulled off his black robes and slung them carelessly over the back of a nearby chair while dumping several thick files on the table beside it. As he walked further into the house he kicked off his shoes and wearily rubbed the back of his neck, all the while humming softly under his breath.

In the kitchen he took a moment to light several candles with his wand before heading over to the refrigerator to dig out some leftovers for his supper. He was pulled away from the task at hand by a tapping at the window though, and looking up, Harry caught sight of an unfamiliar barn owl hovering impatiently outside.

"Not even home for five minutes and already Scrimgeour wants something else," Harry muttered as he let the refrigerator's door swing shut so he could open the window for the bird. "Wonder what it is this time," he added as he took the letter from the owl.

Without even glancing at the front of the envelope, he ripped open one side and pulled out a thick, old yellowed piece of parchment that reminded him vaguely of the Hogwarts letters he used to receive when he attended the magical institution. As he quickly read through the short note his expression went from annoyance to puzzlement to worry as he looked up and leaned out the still open window to search the immediate vicinity.

Finding nothing, he pulled himself back inside the house and studied the envelope for the first time as he absently closed the window. There was no mistake – the letter was clearly addressed to him

Harry J. Potter
July 31, 2008 – 5:03PM
Godric's Hollow,
Outskirts of Perth

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Harry slowly walked over to the table and sat down gingerly as he read the cryptic note once more.

You will be receiving a letter in exactly five minutes
that will require your immediate attention. Please
follow the instructions to the letter, as your life and
many others depend upon your cooperation.

A friend

"What the...?" Harry uttered as he stared at the puzzling note and tried for yet a third time to figure out what it meant. He didn't even have a clue as to who had sent him the note either, the handwriting was vaguely familiar but he couldn't remember where he'd seen it before. His churning thoughts were cut short by the arrival of a second owl; a quick glance at his watch confirmed that exactly five minutes had passed since he'd received the first one.

This time the letter was delivered by a snowy owl and Harry felt a pang of sadness fill him as he was poignantly reminded of Hedwig, his own owl, who had died tragically five years earlier. Bringing his wayward emotions under control, Harry apprehensively opened the window a second time to allow the white owl entrance into his kitchen.

Harry's lingering grief slowly faded as he noted several differences between his beloved pet and the one that now stood calmly on his table. For one, this owl had fewer black speckles than Hedwig had had and its eyes were also a deeper, darker yellow – almost golden in color. Harry also had the distinct feeling that this owl was male.

Picking up the new letter, Harry compared the address on it to the first letter. Though they appeared to be written by two different hands, there were several slight similarities that were troubling to say the least.

Harry J. Potter
July 31, 2008 – 5:08PM
Godric's Hollow,
Outskirts of Perth

An urge to destroy the letter welled up inside Harry as his hand trembled slightly while his eyes stayed glued on his name. Something in the back of his mind screamed that nothing good could come of opening it, yet he was half convinced it was just some kind of twisted joke that his colleagues from work, or some of his friends, thought to play on him. Yet he couldn't shake the foreboding feeling that, deep down, this was far more serious then that.

Slowly sinking back into the chair he'd been sitting in a minute earlier, and without really paying attention to what he was doing, Harry tore open the envelope and gingerly removed another piece of parchment that appeared to be considerably older then that of the first letter. As he unfolded it, he was jolted out of the numbness that had settled over him by the soft shushing sound of a chain pouring out onto the table from between the sheets of paper.

Curious, he set the parchment down and peered at the long, thin necklace that had been sent with the letter. Its delicate links of gold sparkled enticingly in the flickering candle light as an elusive, and long forgotten, memory stirred in the back of his mind. Before he could give it more thought though, his attention was drawn to the owl that had delivered the letter. It had ruffled its feathers and hooted softly as it hopped closer to Harry, bringing his mind back to the unread note.

Picking up the paper once more, Harry began reading it. His confusion apparent in the way his brows furrowed and his nose crinkled up as his eyes flicked from side to side.

Mr. Potter,

I am in desperate need of your assistance. I realize
that you are a busy man, and that your current job
requires your complete attention. However, it is
imperative that you set aside the time it will take
to help me with the issue at hand.

You might think this is a joke or a cruel hoax, as I
once thought it to be, but both of our futures depend
upon your actions in this matter.

Enclosed you will find a small device to help you
on your way. Your destiny awaits; two turns back
and a short jump will take you to a familiar place.
Further instructions will be given to you there.

PJH ~ HJP

Harry snorted in disbelief, the sender expected him to follow their directions without even a minimal explanation as to what he was being required to do. Again the overwhelming urge to destroy the letter and forget its content flooded through his mind, but as he extended the frail paper towards the nearest candle he hesitated as he remembered something he'd been told many years ago.

There will come a time when you will have to walk blindly in order to see what is needed.

He hadn't understood what it had meant at the time, but he thought he knew now. Deliberately, and with more doubts then he could count, Harry set the letter down on the table and gently lifted the golden chain from where it lay on the table. Suspended from the middle of the chain was a complicated instrument that contained a familiar hour glass filled with glittering sand.

The last time Harry had seen such a device, he'd been fighting for his life down in the Department of Mysteries at the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts. In fact, he'd accidentally helped destroy close to one thousand of them when the Death Eater he'd been battling had crashed into the shelf that contained them.

"A timeturner?" Harry blurted aloud as he leaned closer in order to try to read the inscription that was engraved along the outside edge of the device. "Time Stands Still for No Man. What is that supposed to mean?" Shaking his head in confusion, he turned to study the second note once more when several words and phrases leapt out at him.

Desperate... set aside the time... both of our futures... device... two turns back...

"Someone has been watching me and they want me to go back in time," Harry deduced incredulously. "Two turns... two hours? What could have happened two hours ago that I would have to go back and fix now?"

Disgruntled with his train of thoughts, Harry placed the timeturner back on the table and pushed himself out of the chair. Returning to the refrigerator he opened it once more and pulled out a covered pot full of left over stew. Heading over to the stove, he took out his wand and lit the nearest burner before setting the pot on to warm.

Moving about the kitchen he took out a plate, spoon, cup, and a pitcher of chilled fruit juice and arranged them on the table as far away from the letters and timeturner as possible. Next he took out a fresh loaf of bread from the bread box, sliced off a couple of thick pieces, and placed them on a napkin before spreading them with a liberal amount of butter. He carried the bread with him to check on the warming pot, and stirred the stew a couple of times before setting the napkin of bread on the table.

As he worked, his eyes kept wandering back to the glittering timeturner as he pondered how to deal with the puzzling request he'd been sent. It wasn't really the nature of the request that bothered him so much; it was the fact that he really had no idea who it was that might have sent such a request to him. Merlin knew; Harry had completed a wide array of odd and unsettling assignments during the five years he'd been working as an Auror at the Ministry, not to mention the events that occurred during his years at Hogwarts. He had also made more then his fair share of enemies, any one of whom could wish him harm. Spending a few hours back in time though, would be far more preferable to attending yet another press conference with Minister Scrimgeour or listening to the overbearing man's arguments as to why Harry needed to pose for several promotional shots to help support him in the up coming re-election campaign.

Pushing thoughts of work from his mind, Harry put out the fire under the pot and ladled a generous amount of the savory stew into a bowl that was sitting nearby. Inhaling the tantalizing aroma as he carried it to his place setting, Harry couldn't help but smile as the faces of his closest friends and family floated from the recesses of his mind. He had been given the generous portion of stew, and several other favorite dishes, by Mrs. Weasley a few days earlier after celebrating his twenty-eighth birthday at the Burrow over the weekend.

Even though he'd been living on his own for many years now, Mrs. Weasley watched over him as if he was still an adolescent wizard attending Hogwarts School of Magic. How she managed to find the time to think of him when she was constantly surrounded by a dozen or more grandkids never failed to amaze Harry. Thinking of the newest Weasley generation brought back the wave of sadness from earlier and chased Harry's appetite away. Leaning back in his chair, Harry soon became lost in a flood of pain filled memories from the end of the war.

Times were dark; Lord Voldemort's confidence and power had grown in leaps and bounds once word of Dumbledore's death had spread to the far reaches of the wizarding world. Most folks didn't leave their houses for any reason, so great was their fear that they'd be attacked if they set foot out of their homes. Harry, with the aid of his best friends Ron and Hermione along with a few other dedicated members of the old defense club, doggedly set out to find and destroy the remaining horcruxes.

It took the better part of three years to track them all down and the prices they paid along the way were high. Lives were lost, many close and dear friends murdered as they faced dark magic, fearsome creatures, and Death Eaters time and time again. The greatest blow wouldn't come until the end though, just when the tide of war was starting to turn.

Information had been leaked to Voldemort, and the Dark Lord had discovered that Harry and his friends had been destroying his horcruxes over the last several years. In his anger Voldemort had lashed out viciously, hitting the Order hard, in a series of cold blooded attacks that left the wizarding world in further shambles. It was during one such attack that Ginny Weasley was murdered, along with Remus Lupin, Rubeus Hagrid, and Nymphadora Tonks.

Harry, numb with rage and grief after learning of the attack, had sought out Voldemort for the final confrontation. Instead of weakening the young wizard, as he had intended, the Dark Lord had given Harry the one thing he'd needed to defeat Voldemort – a thirst for vengeance, the desperate desire to avenge the deaths of those he'd held most dear.

By the time the surviving members of the Order had discovered what Harry was doing, it was too late to stop him. Rallied by Ron and Hermione, the surviving members quickly gathered together and rushed to his aid – but by the time they had arrived on the scene the war was already over. All that remained was to identify the dead and chase down the last of the Death Eaters that had fled the moment Voldemort had been defeated.

Harry blinked back his tears as he rose to his feet and headed over to the window for the third time that evening. Eight years had passed since that fateful day and while time had eased the pain, Harry never forgot the love he felt for Ginny. A sigh escaped from his lips as Harry gently pushed the heartache from his mind and he turned away from the window to study the kitchen. Right away his eyes were drawn to the letters that sat on his table and in that moment Harry made the decision that he'd follow the instructions that had been sent to him.

Moving quickly, least his resolve fade, he collected the letters and the timeturner from the table and trotted out of the kitchen. He then set about preparing for what he assumed would be a short journey; he showered, put on a fresh set of robes, gathered up his father's invisibility cloak, his Firebolt, an emergency potions kit, and a supply of parchment and quills. After packing everything into his traveling bag, he scoured the room to make sure he'd not left out anything he might need. On impulse, he added the old Sneak-o-Scope that Ron had given him in their third year, the two-way mirror that Sirius had given to him before he passed through the veil, his DA galleon, and the Marauder's Map.

Satisfied that he was as prepared as he could be, he placed the timeturner's chain over his head and slipped his overnight bag securely onto his shoulder as he took out his wand. He'd just finished twisting the dial back the required two turns when he heard the creak of a footstep coming from behind him. He whipped around and caught the barest glimpse of an older man watching him before the room around him began to dissolve in a swirl of colors.