Summary: Harry is at the Dursleys after the DoM battle but is transported back in time to 1942! Harry tries to go unnoticed in Hogwarts but catches the attention of Tom Riddle. How will Harry get back home when he has his soon-to-be-enemy breathing down his neck? TimeTravel, Slytherin!Harry, Rated T.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That honour belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Warning: There are so far no pairings, I want to know if you guys want one or not. If I add one, it will be TomxHarry. (Sorry but I like that ship so I won't change)
Chapter 1
Dark ominous clouds hung above No 4 Privet Drive. It was a chilly day for July and Harry was locked in his room. The bars from second year had been reinstalled and his door was locked and bolted. He was only allowed out for a quick bathroom break once a day. Harry lay sprawled out on his bed, thinking about what happened in the Department of Mysteries. So many what if's plagued his mind. 'What if I used the mirror instead of the flu powder? What if I practiced more in Occlumency? What if I was more powerful and quick? Would I had been able to save Sirius if I was stronger?'All these questions swarmed his mind and with nothing to do in his room, he went over the dreams he would never be able to achieve.
For hours on end, he would think of his years in the wizarding world. From the moment Hagrid came bursting into the house, to fighting against Voldemort, to Dumbledore ignoring him, to now. 'Why didn't Dumbledore teach him Occlumency?'He was way better than Snape. 'Why did Dumbledore ignore him every time he sought him out? Wasn't he supposed to help him with the DAMNED prophesy?'As the days went by, Harry started to rethink his image of Dumbledore. No longer did he see the grandfatherly figure but instead a manipulative man in charge of Britain.
Thunder boomed loudly outside his window, breaking his chain of thought. Harry glanced at the second-hand clock on his bedside table. 11:47pm. He yawned before removing a picture from his pocket. Lately he had been keeping his prized possessions close to him in case the Dursleys snooped inside his room when he was in the shower. The folded picture showed himself and his friends – Hermione had found a charm to turn muggle photos into moving ones – hanging outside the Burrow. Ron stood on Harry's left with a goofy grin on his face, a broomstick in hand while Hermione stood in Harry's right with a book in her hand, an exasperated look on her face though a smile tugged on her lips. Harry himself was in the middle, laughing as though the scenario seemed amusing which, to be honest was.
A soft smile formed on Harry's face as he watched the himself and his friends play and laugh, looking as carefree as anyone could be. Oh how Harry wished that was true.
Another yawn broke Harry's face and before he knew it, he had slowly drifted off to sleep. Minutes after, the clock on the table beeped 00:00am. The photo clutched in the sleeping boy's hands began to glow yellow. It gradually got brighter and brighter, basking the room in gold. The sleeping form of the boy dozed obliviously to the happenings in his room. Only seconds before 00:01am did the light suddenly flash blindingly before fading into nothingness.
A soft beep of the alarm filled the empty room. The crinkled folds of the bed lay abandoned. All was still. Far away in Scotland, a silver instrument started to whistle in warning. However, at that moment, Albus Dumbledore was peacefully asleep in his quarters, unaware of the alarm. After minutes of whistling, the instrument stopped.
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Harry woke up to feel dampness on his shirt and trousers. He groggily opened eyes only to shut them rapidly due to the blearing light. Confusion swamped his mind. When had the Dursleys ever turn on his bedroom light? He slowly pried his eyes open and saw the clear blue sky. Eyes widening, Harry shot up from his position which he immediately regretted. Balancing himself with his arms, he gazed around his surroundings. He was in the middle of a field. To the right of him, he could see the edge of some sort of forest while on his right was a road. It wasn't very hard to choose which direction he should go to in order to find out what happened. Swiftly, Harry jogged onto the road before deciding to walk east – he learnt how to navigate with the sun.
He walked for minutes yet there seemed to be no one around. The sound of birds could be heard overhead and he thought he heard a pond somewhere within the woods. The more he walked forward, the more perplexed and anxious he became. 'Where am I?' That question kept popping up a lot. During the walk, Harry began to check his pockets and to his relief, found his small extension bag – Hermione gave it to him last winter:
Wand, check.
Invisibility Cloak, check.
Left over Gringotts money, check.
Marauders Map, check.
Photo of his family as well as his friends, check.
Everything seemed to be inside but Harry was still unsure of why he woke up in the middle of nowhere. If Dumbledore did this as a test than Harry was not pleased. For ten minutes, Harry just wandered down the road until the sight of grey brick buildings made it into his view. 'Finally!' People dressed in old fashioned clothes stared at him with a mix of emotion. Some gave him curious looks, however, the majority of the pedestrians stared at him with disgust and suspicion. Men walked down the street in relatively normal clothing though it looked a bit formal. Yet the women dressed in flowery dresses and tight jackets that reminded Harry of a World War 2 film he once watched in primary school. What seemed to make him uneasy was the soldiers marching up and down the streets. A rifle in their hands.
A small corner store was open and people could be seen milling around the shop. A sign board hung above the shop saying, 'Daily Newspaper!' This peeked Harry's interest. He made a bee line for the store and upon entering, went straight for the newspaper stand. The stand was fairly empty, only a few were left. He scanned the page and was surprised to see the headline; 'Bombing hits France! Hitler strikes again!' His heart felt like it stopped. His mind started to put pieces together. The clothing, the scenery, the buildings. With sweaty palms, Harry searched for the date that all newspapers have. Having spotted it in the top left corner, he nearly had a heart attack.
July 27th, 1942.
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A/N: How did I go?
This is only the first episode so it will be short. However, the chapters will get longer.
Please review and tell me what you think. I love feedback and if I made a mistake of grammar doesn't make sense, please tell me and I will try to change it.
Thanks for reading!