May 2nd, 2010.

Everyone was out celebrating the end of the Second Wizard War. Harry glanced outside his bedroom window. His five year old son, James Sirius Potter, was outside, playing in the backyard along with his younger brother, Albus Severus Potter. Ginny Potter, his wife, was sitting in the front porch, rocking their youngest child, Lily Luna Potter in her arms. Lily was only two but she seemed to already be more mature than his eldest.

Albus was probably the most mature out of the lot – just like Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape were and James Sirius more like their namesake's. Mischievous, loud and absolutely hilarious.

All of Harry's children were so beautiful, much like their mother. Ginny was going to the celebratory party along with the rest of the wizarding world. The heroes of the war would have the best seating, the best food, the best everything –

But Harry wouldn't know. He wasn't going to go.

Harry could not celebrate when there were so many people just gone.

Harry was happy for the rest of the world of course. No more Voldemort, no more family members being murdered, but Harry wasn't the only one who lost people. He just lost the most.

He lost his parents, his teachers, his friends, his uncle, his godfather… the people he loved and cherished.

"Harry? You alright?" Ginny Potter stood at the bedroom doorway, red hair cascading down to her waist. Ginny had let it grow out, especially once Harry told her that he loved running his finger through her hair. Harry's wife came to sit beside him, clasping his hand in her own. She rested her head in the crook of his neck. "I know what you're thinking," Ginny whispered softly.

Harry sighed, smiling wryly. "It's hard to find a time where you don't know what I'm thinking," he replied.

"Harry," Ginny said. Ginny looked deep into Harry's eyes. "You're the most powerful wizard in the world…"

Harry cut her off before she could finish. "I don't care about that, Ginny."

"Let me finish," Ginny smiled. "You're the most powerful wizard in the world, you're worshipped by everybody but you would trade that in a heartbeat for just one person back from the dead."

Harry nodded silently.

"You would trade your riches, your gold, your very own life for them, correct?" Ginny said.

Harry nodded glumly, clarifying for her.

"Why did they die, Harry?" Ginny asked. But before Harry could reply, Ginny cut him off with a chaste kiss. "Because they wanted to save your life. Now, let's not throw their sacrifice to waste. And what would the rest of us do, Harry, if you live in your past forever? You have three kids that need you and me. I need you," Ginny said, embracing Harry tightly. "I want you to know," Ginny whispered. "Every day I spend with you, I'm grateful for. So every day you live, be thankful. That's how they would want you to live."

Ginny stood up and exited the room, leaving Harry alone in the bedroom. Downstairs, he heard the door slam which meant Ginny was leaving with the kids to go to the party at the Ministry.

Every year, on May 2nd, it would be like this. Ginny would comfort Harry and Harry would stay at home. Then Harry would fall asleep, with nothing better to do.

Harry climbed underneath the heavy covers and closed his eyes, snuggling into his soft pillow. His pillow was a poor substitute for his wife, but it would have to do.

Harry was not weak. He was a powerful Occlumens and Leglimens. He excelled in every area, he was Head Auror, but every night, Harry would still tell himself: If only I was a bit stronger, I could have saved them. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Fred, my father, my mother… They wouldn't have had to die if I was just a bit stronger.

And the hole in Harry's chest would grow bigger and bigger, only filled by his closest friends, his wife and his children. But there was still a hole there.

It would never be filled. Harry was a broken toy, as much as he tried to hide it. He was twenty-nine already – thirty when July 31st comes to pass and Harry Potter was still hung up in the past.

Unhappily, Harry began to drift off to sleep, only to escape the world he lived in.

But he should have known. Harry James Potter is never able to escape. Not even in the world of dreams.

…

Harry was in a pitch black room, and he couldn't even see his hand in front of his face. He was all alone. He could not smell anything. He could not see anything, nor did he have anything to touch.

"Harry…" a quiet spot said. Suddenly, a spotlight was cast on him, illuminating him. Harry was dressed in school robes, surprisingly, robes he never thought he would ever wear again. His wand was not in its' usual holster but in his robe sleeve – just like it was in the school days, when he didn't have a holster. His holly-and-phoenix wand was drawn and Harry stood warily as he waited for something to happen.

It was not uncommon for him to have these dreams and Harry expected Voldemort jump out at any time.

Then someone walked out from the shadows, a spotlight trained on them too. But it was not Voldemort. It was not someone Harry expected to see.

Remus Lupin stood there, looking at his feet.

"Remus?" Harry asked, taking a hesitant step closer.

"Don't come near me!" Remus said then, looking up. Harry froze. His eyes were filled with betrayal and anger. "You let me die, Harry! After all I've done for you… I died! My son is left alone, like an orphan. Like you," he said bitingly. "I felt sorry for you. I loved you. I did everything I could for you!" Remus yelled. This was not the calm, cool and collected Remus Harry knew. Remus shut his eyes tightly, placing a hand on his forehead. "I died because you let me die. Because like an idiot, I followed you into battle. You're out celebrating the battle that people died in, Harry!"

"I'm not celebrating with them!" Harry protested. Each word that came out of Remus' mouth was like a dagger in Harry's side.

"But you let so many people die for you, Harry," Remus said somberly. "You didn't try to save us at all."

"Remus I'm sorry!" Harry cried, running into the arms of the man that Harry called friend, teacher and uncle.

"Don't apologize to me!" Remus said, shoving Harry to the ground. Then Remus disappeared, leaving Harry feeling so empty.

"Harry," came a sad voice. Harry whirled around to see Sirius Black, in all his former glory. His black hair, his gray eyes and his sad smile.

"Sirius," Harry said, relieved. Harry rushed forward to hug Sirius, but Sirius made no move to return the hug. "I'm so sorry," Harry cried into his shoulder. It felt strange. Harry should have been at James' height and taller than Sirius, but now Sirius seemed to be taller than him. "I tried, I really did," Harry continued. "It was my fault you died, and I'm sorry, Sirius. Please don't hate me. I already lost Remus. Please, Sirius," Harry pleaded.

"Harry… it's so hard on the other side," Sirius said in a rather hard voice. Harry slowly backed away from his godfather. Sirius looked like he was restraining tears. His gray eyes were bloodshot.

"Sirius…"

"I died, Harry. The rest of my life is gone," Sirius said. A tear leaked out of his eye. Harry wanted to die. He made Sirius, one of the strongest people he knew, cry.

Harry dropped to his knees, clasping Sirius' hands in his. "I'm so sorry," Harry pleaded. "Forgive me," he begged. "Sirius, I love you," Harry said, staying on the ground but looking up at Sirius. "You're my godfather. I love you, my parents, Remus – all those who died. It hurts in my heart too."

"You dare talk to me about hurting?" Sirius asked incredulously. "I died and you're talking about your pain. I sacrificed myself for you. Because your stupidity led me to my death. Hermione even told you that you should have continued Occlumency. Now you're a master at it but you couldn't have been a master at it when I was still alive?" Sirius asked. His words were twisting the daggers that were already embedded metaphorically in Harry's side. The daggers dug deep into Harry and Harry shut his eyes.

"It's my fault," Harry said, falling to the ground, releasing his hold on Sirius. "It's my fault," he repeated. Sirius disappeared, leaving Harry to cry on the ground. Harry felt child-like. He looked at his hands in surprise. Hands of a child. In front of him appeared a mirror. Harry was… eleven again.

Harry gaped.

"Harry."

Harry turned around again and once again gaped. There stood his parents, Lily and James Potter.

The three of them rushed forward into embrace. "I missed you so much," Harry cried. "And I'm so sorry for letting you die. And I know…"

"Harry," Lily said gently, brushing Harry's bangs out of his face. Harry found himself on the laps of his parents. His head was on Lily and feet on James. "Sometimes," Lily said wistfully. "It hurts. It hurts not being able to protect you like I should be able. I miss not being alive."

Lily's gentle words were what hurt Harry even more. Especially when a tear leaked from her green eyes. "It hurts, Harry," Lily said. Harry got up and hugged his mother tightly. "It hurts so much."

James came behind them and embraced them. The three of them sat there, the hole in Harry's heart growing and growing.

"Harry," James said quietly. "We died for you. It's just… sometimes it hurts to see your face. You're everything we can't have. You remind us of the world we lost. The friends we lost."

And that finished it. Harry broke away from his parents. "I know. You're disappointed in me. I'm not the son you wanted. I'm not good enough," Harry said, voice quivering. "It doesn't matter what accomplishments I achieve. I get it."

Lily and James did not correct him, nor did they speak.

Harry closed his eyes tightly. "I get it… And I wish I didn't. It hurts for me to, you know? To not have you there. To be alone in the world. I'm an orphan. Teddy is an orphan but I'm striving to be there for him as much as I can. And everything I do, it's just not good enough is it? Teddy will have that same hole in his heart like I do. And it just keeps getting bigger and bigger everyday because that is another day passing without the people he needs."

They all knew they were not talking about Teddy Lupin anymore.

"I'm sorry!" Harry screamed, clutching his heart. Harry could feel his heartbeat slowing. Harry dug deep into his chest with his hand and pulled out his heart. There really was a hole in his heart. And it was consuming the organ he needed.

Then Harry fell to the ground, alone in the darkness.

…

Harry woke up from his nightmare in sweat and tears. Then wind blasted against his face. And Harry stood up, scanning his surroundings. He was not in his bedroom. He wasn't even in Potter Manor. Surprisingly, he found a backpack on his shoulders. Carefully, he took it out. He found a shrunken Firebolt, to Harry's surprise. He hadn't gone on the broom in years. The Marauder's Map. Another surprise. He had given it to Teddy. His wand was once again in in his robe sleeve – just like it was in that nightmare.

Actually, Harry thought he was in Hogsmeade. The Three Broomsticks was over there and Madam Puddifoot's was over there.

But no one was there. Madam Rosmerta was not running around handing out butterbeers. There was no hustle and bustle or loud sounds coming from Hogsmeade. It was empty.

Harry took out his wand as his Auror training kicked in. He turned around and looked into the glass window of the Three Broomsticks and gasped in surprise.

There he was. Harry James Potter. In a tiny eleven year old's body. Harry wanted to scream. What happened to him? Was he still in a dream?

But after so many nightmares, Harry had learnt to differentiate between reality and his subconscious. And all senses pointed to reality.

"And who might you be?" came an eerie voice, a voice Harry had never thought he would hear again.

Harry whirled around, cursing himself for being so careless. He had practically had a mirror in front of him, yet this man had snuck behind him.

Voldemort.

Voldemort already had red eyes and pale skin. Though he was not as monstrous as he was before, he was still ugly. It was because of his Horcruxes he had created. It had stripped Tom Riddle of his handsome looks, leaving him in the ugly shell of Voldemort.

"You are not cowering inside the buildings, I see, much like the rest of the wizarding world," Voldemort sneered. Harry once again looked inside the Three Broomsticks and found that Voldemort was right. There were people hiding underneath the chairs and tables.

"I…" Harry started, grasping for words to say. "Do you know the date?"

Voldemort looked at Harry, amused. "My boy, you do not even know the date? This is the time of the Dark Lord! The Golden Age, I would say. Under my rule, it would become so."

Harry bit back a biting retort. "I want the real date," Harry said coldly. Voldemort only smirked.

"May 2nd," Voldemort replied. Harry was growing more nervous. Was the world playing some kind of cruel joke? They resurrected Voldemort and changed Harry back into an eleven year old boy? What about his kids?! Ginny? Hermione and Ron?

"1971," Voldemort finished.

Then Harry struggled to breathe. This was his parents' first year. Lily Potter – no, Evans – probably didn't know about the wizarding world yet. James Potter didn't know who Lily Evans was yet. And they were bound to meet in September for Hogwarts.

What happened to him? What about the future…. And…

His dream. Sirius, Remus, Lily, James – all those people who died… they can be saved. But Harry had to be careful to change things. Very careful. Time was a tricky business. The excitement and nervousness in him clashed, making it hard for Harry to do anything really.

"Well this is awkward," Harry managed to get out. He was so used to Voldemort trying to kill him. "I'm guessing you are either going to try to kill me or try to recruit me into your Death Eaters."

Voldemort smirked. "You are but a child. You have no use to me… except… Imperio!" Voldemort cried. Immediately Harry was under the warm haze. Kill everyone inside the Three Broomsticks, a voice hissed.

"NO," Harry shouted, breaking free from the curse. "Stupefy!" Harry shouted. "Protego Maxima," Harry shouted and immediately the spell began to work, and Voldemort even backed away. He casted the spell over Hogsmeade, making Hogsmeade safe from dark magic. Voldemort ran away then, for the spell caused disintegration for people who were dark that came too close. Harry was not weak. Voldemort probably expected a weak Protego Maxima, one that would not have been able to chase him away, but Harry was stronger than most adults.

Then the Aurors came to the edge of Hogsmeade. Harry ran to them. Then he stared. The Aurors entered Hogsmeade but some who tried disintegrated.

"What happened?" an Auror asked immediately. Alastor Moody. Harry wanted to shout for joy.

"I don't know, Moody," another Auror said next to him.

"They disintegrated," Harry interrupted. He used his formal tone, the one he used for Auror meetings and such. "I casted a Protego Maxima, causing any dark magic to come near to just disintegrate. Those Aurors must have been in league with "

"You?" Moody said, disbelieving. "You are a kid. That Protego is one of the hardest spells to master." Harry cursed then.

"It's true," came a timid voice. Harry turned around. A kid, even younger than Harry's current form, was following him. Harry once again inwardly cursed himself for not sensing her. The girl was probably seven, one of the people hiding in the Three Broomsticks.

"He fought off this spell… My mummy told me about it," she said quietly, under the stare of the intimidating Aurors. "This Imperio?" she asked quietly. The Aurors gasped and some backed away from Harry, unsure. "The bad man told him to kill everyone in the Three Broomsticks," the girl quivered. "But then he," the girl pointed to Harry. "Said no. And then he said that spell and the bad man left."

Then a woman rushed out of the Three Broomsticks. "I am so sorry, sir," the woman apologized, leading the girl away.

Moody was wary of Harry, but did not make any motion to arrest him. "What's your name, boy?"

"Harry Potter," Harry said tiredly, not even thinking. Then he realized what he just said but fought to keep a straight face.

"Related to James Potter by any chance? Practically his twin," Moody said. "Where are your parents?"

"Dead," Harry said bluntly. It was true though. His parents were dead. Sort of.

Moody did not spare him a pitying look. "Who are you?" Moody demanded. "No kid can do that spell." Moody placed his already drawn wand under Harry's chin. "Who are you?" Moody said menacingly.

"Let him go," an Auror said. "He drove away Voldemort. He can't be all bad." Harry was internally grateful for the Auror.

"Are you crazy? You see a kid that can cast a Protego Maxima and you just go: Let him go?" Moody demanded. "Have I taught you nothing?"

"But…"

"What if it was just a big show?" Moody said.

"But a Death Eater would not cast a Protego Maxima – the spell would have destroyed the caster then!" the Auror protested.

"The kid may not be a Death Eater, but the power is still suspicious," Moody said, narrowing his eyes. His magical eye seemed to scan over Harry, as if checking for a Dark mark.

"I'm taking him to the Ministry. We can get Charlus and Dorea to adopt him, or something," the Auror said.

"Do you really think the Potters would adopt him? This suspicious little boy?" Moody scoffed.

"I'm still here, you know," Harry said, but Moody's eye glared at him while the other stayed focused on the Auror. Harry wisely fell silent.

"Sure they will. You know how much they wanted another kid. This is practically a spitting image of their kid right now."

"Which is strange!" Moody said.

"What if they had twins but one was somehow taken from them?" the Auror said.

"This isn't one of your stupid soap operas, you fool!" Moody exclaimed. The Auror sighed, giving up.

Moody resumed his glare on to Harry. "But what are we going to do with you then…"

"Just hand him over to the Potters," someone said in the crowd of Aurors. Moody did not respond to the person who spoke.

Moody was still not giving in. Harry grasped for a sob story. "My aunt and uncle… I ran away from them after I learned magic," Harry said.

"Who taught you magic?" Moody demanded.

"My godfather. But he was killed by Death Eaters as well. My aunt and uncle never liked me and they…" Harry paused, looking down.

When he looked back up, Aurors were giving him half awed, half pitying looks.

"I don't believe your story. But I can't throw you into Azkaban for lying and I have Death Eaters to catch," Moody said. "Tanner," Moody said. The Auror that had defended Harry straightened. "Take the boy to the Potters. They can investigate for me. The rest of you," Moody said, voice growing louder.

Harry did not hear the rest of his instructions. The Auror already took his hand and Apparated.

With a loud pop, the Auror and Harry disappeared, reappearing at the Ministry of Magic. The Auror, Tanner, left to find Charlus and Dorea Potter.

Nervously, Harry waited. People were already looking at him, pointing and whispering about him. Some people even came up to him and shook his hand – just like they did in the future. Harry sighed. News travelled way too fast. Then Tanner returned, two people behind him. There they were. Charlus even had the unruly hair Harry had.

"My, my," Charlus murmured. "Just like James."

"We signed the papers, Harry," Dorea said gently. Harry already knew what Charlus and Dorea thought. This poor, scrawny child. They took pity on Harry – his malnourished state. Harry had a feeling they were as suspicious as Moody was, but they were more subtle about it.

He refused to use Leglimency on them, but besides, they probably already knew Occlumency. Harry tried to place himself in their shoes.

More likely than not, they were going to observe his behaviour. Then they would place the verdict. Harry just had to sell the 'I'm the most innocent person in the world' act. Harry internally sighed. He was screwed.

WOOO!

FIRST CHAPTER: UP! NOTE: This is rewritten!

This plot MAY be overused. But I wanted to put my own spin on it. Any similarities it has to any other stories well... Sorry? But GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE ;)

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