Harry Potter: The second chance

by Lucian Valerious

After a stray curse during the battle of the DOM upsets the time room and sends Harry and his friends back in time, they find themselves in the company of the Potters and the Marauders in 1975. Stuck in the past, they decide to change the world for the better with the knowledge they have attained from their own world. But will they actually change it for the better?

1. Chapter 1

Hello there.

Summary: After a stray curse during the battle of the DOM upsets the time room and sends Harry and his friends back in time, they find themselves in the company of the Potters and the Marauders in 1975. Stuck in the past, they decide to change the world for the better with the knowledge they have attained from their own world. But will they actually change it for the better? Or will their changes have consequences worse than they could have foreseen?

I will admit right now, the beginning is inspired by Stepping Back, written by TheBlack'sResurgence, in the sense that Harry travels back in time and at least the Potter family know who he truly is, rather than some alternate identity. In the same sense, I will also draw quite a bit of inspiration (though credit for the original idea rightfully goes to the aforementioned author) for a friendship and alliance between Charlus Potter and Arcturus Black. Hence the reason why I divert from canon on James' parentage: after reading Honour Thy Blood I found it near-impossible to imagine James' father being anything else in my head-canon than the awesome character described there. But since I don't want to divert from established canon too much, I settled for a compromise: Charlus and Fleamont are brothers, and the latter is James' uncle. Speaking of which, thank you TheBlack'sResurgence for giving me such an awesome idea. Credit goes to you for that, and I hope that if you find this, you will enjoy this.

Concerning Bashing and Pairings:

mild Dumbledore bashing. He isn't an evil bastard out to control Harry, like in far too many fics on this site. But he's made a lot of mistakes in Harry's fifth year, and due to the fact he isn't here back in time with Harry, our young protagonist won't get the answers he wants from his headmaster. And simply put, this lack of answers is filled in by people far less favourable to Dumbledore, painting him in a far worse light than he deserves.

The only pairing set so far is James/Lily. The rest is open for suggestion, though I don't think I'll be sticking with canon pairings aside from them. Why? Simple: Ron and Hermione argue too much to properly work out long-term, Ginny and Harry don't fit together in my opinion even though I don't hate her, the age difference between Remus and Tonks is too big right now to properly work at all (Tonks would be a toddler at most, for god's sake), and I felt pity Sirius never found someone in the end.

But feel free to make suggestions, or give arguments why a canon pairing would work. I still might take it anyway. Hell, make as many suggestions as you want, no matter how absurd they are. Hell, if someone suggested a four-way pairing between Snape, Harry, Luna and McGonagall I still would consider it. The odds aren't high I'd go down that road, but still... You get the idea. I prefer non-slash, though, so if you suggest otherwise your argument had better be strong. Oh, and for the record: the less obvious pairings are open, too, like Amelia Bones, Narcissa, Regulus, Amos Diggory, Either of the Prewett twins and the like.

Rated M so I don't have to watch my language, and because a number of future things I'll do will be quite... horrific.

Underlined is nearly entirely taken from Harry Potter: The Halfblood Prince, and isn't owned by me. On that account, the entire Harry Potter saga and everything it contains isn't owned by me. I'm just fooling around in the sand box.

Please, Review Read and Favourite if you enjoyed it.

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Chapter 1

Department of Mysteries, Ministry of Magic Headquarters, London

Harry once again cursed his own stupidity, as he and Neville ran through the hall of Prophecies. He should have known this was a trap as soon as he'd entered the Ministry, much less when he entered the Department of Mysteries, without encountering a single soul. The ministry was many things, including idiotic and stupid, but they weren't morons. There should have been a token force of guards to deal with in the atrium at the least. But he'd let his desperation and recklessness guide him and the others on into the department, and he'd foolishly grabbed the glass orb without a single care or thought, and now they were in trouble.

He'd let Lucius prattle and goad on, about how it was all a trap, and that despite Harry's visions to the contrary, Sirius had never set foot in this department, much less been captured and tortured by Voldemort. How it had been a carefully arrayed trap, so he could grab the orb only he and Voldemort could grab, so that they could, in turn, steal it for their Dark Lord. He'd let the man, despite his anger.

It gave them the time they needed so Hermione and the others could get ready to turn the tables on the Death Eaters. He'd had to hold Neville back when Bellatrix blast-her Lestrange insulted the memory of the boy's parents, but they'd managed.

Ginny and Luna had promptly provided said distraction, blasting the two rows they were standing next to and collapsing most of the Prophecies, and half of one cabinet, onto the Death Eaters, while Hermione blasted a hole in the stack for them to escape through in the confusion. The distraction hadn't lasted long, though, and before long they were on the run again, alternating between running back towards the exit and fending off Death Eaters.

They had been forced to split early on, with Ron, Hermione and Ginny forced in one direction at a splitting in one of the stacks, while he, Neville and Luna headed down the others. And Luna had again been forced to run on after Harry and Neville had been forced to stop to fight the Lestrange Brothers, who by themselves were quite vicious. They had served life sentences for a reason, after all, with each of them having killed at least ten Aurors before being captured. In the end, they had to settle for stunning them and taking their wands before being forced to run on or risk the wrath of Antonin Dolohov. And Harry knew he wouldn't survive a duel with that psychopath. The man had been the European duelling champion for England before siding with Voldemort, and was the man's deadliest servant, aside from Bellatrix and Lucius.

Harry skidded to a stop again, as a spell sailed through the stacks to his left. A Crucio, judging by the spell colour and by how easily it tore through the wood. Harry stopped, ready to fling another stunner down the open hole. But to his relief the Death Eater on the other side was already stopped, three stunners hitting him just as he came into view, and Hermione and Ron running past moments later, carrying Ginny between them, who hissed when her ankle bumped over the Death Eater's body.

"Reducto," Harry said, as he sent the spell into the stack ahead of them, and created a hole large enough for Harry and Neville to duck through, and which would allow them to rejoin Hermione and-

"Crucio!" Bellatrix yelled behind them, and Harry dove to the ground. He rolled aside, as he expected another curse to head towards him. But Neville was already duelling her, firing spell after spell at her, trying to keep her from retaliating by the sheer number of spells she had to deflect. But it was obvious from the coy smirk on her face as she moved her wand that she was merely toying with him; humouring her past victim. Harry scrambled to get up, and joined Neville in holding her back.

"Poor wee little Longbottom." Bellatrix taunted. "Even your parents had a plan, as bad as it was. What would they say if they saw you now?"

"I'll kill you, bitch." Neville yelled, as the cursed he threw her way grew more violent. Bellatrix merely laughed, as she simply shifted from shielding against Harry and Neville's spells to dodging.

"Of course, your parents are too mad to even recognise the face of their own SON OF A BITCH!" Bellatrix yelled that last bit, as a stray curse dislodged a prophecy above them, which fell onto her shoulder and shattered, the pieces piercing her shoulder like glass. Harry took a small bit of satisfaction for Neville that it was the woman's wand arm.

Before Bellatrix could stop playing around, however, two stunners sailed past Neville and Harry, and one hit the woman right between the eyes. Her eyes briefly widened from surprise before she closed them and collapsed to the ground. As Neville snatched up the woman's wand, Harry turned and nodded in thanks to Ron and Hermione, who were picking Ginny back up again to carry between them. Now mostly reunited, the group ran back towards the exit. After all, with nearly a dozen Death Eaters in the building, they had little chance of survival otherwise.

Finally the came to the middle path between the stacks that lead to the Time Room, and from there back to the turning room with a dozen identical doors, and back to the lifts. "Ok, we're almost there." He said, starting to run. Neville did likewise, but Hermione and Ron lagged behind, the weight of Ginny slowing them down. After barely ten seconds, Neville had enough, stopped until the latter three had rejoined them, grabbed Ginny and hoisted her over his left shoulder.

"Hey!" She yelled indignantly. "I'm not some sandbag to toss around."

"Just watch my back, ok?" Neville asked, ignoring Ginny's protest as he jogged to catch up. Harry looked at the boy, impressed at the sight. While Ginny certainly wasn't heavy like Millicent Bulstrode, it took a lot of strength and stamina to keep carrying her and running like Neville did. Perhaps there was more to the boy than Harry had previously thought.

His thoughts were interrupted when two more Death Eaters jumped out between the stacks, ready to duel them again. Goyle and Nott, Harry thought they were called back at the graveyard. Or was it Crabbe?

Either way, it didn't matter. Harry immediately sent a bombarda curse to land between them, the concussive force of which made them stumble. And well-placed stunners from Hermione and Ron finished them off. Once again, Harry only stopped to take their wands before moving on. Aside from taking away the Death Eaters' only weapons, you never knew when having another wand could come in handy. A lesson Moody (ok, Barty Crouch Junior) had taken quite some time to drive home to them last year.

The rest of the way went mostly undisturbed. Due to the commotion of collapsing shelves behind them most of the Death Eaters still thought they were further back. They only encountered Mulciber and Jugson when they reached the only way out (through the time room) and both were caught unaware because both were trying to break into the room, rather than standing guard against them. They never heard the incantations of the stunner and body bind that hit them.

"Guys?" Ginny asked nervously from Neville's back. "Where's Luna?"

Harry whirled around. Of course, in the intense duelling and adrenaline-fuelled rush to get out, they'd completely forgotten that Luna was still back there somewhere. He cursed his luck, and moved to run back, and check if Luna was at the heart of the commotion.

When the door to the Time Room opened, and Luna stepped out. Her hair was disheveled and dirtier than usual, she was bleeding quite a bit from a cut on her scalp, her clothes were red from it, and her right sleeve was torn up, but she was alive.

The same could not be said for Avery, who lay on the ground with his head smashed in, a time turner sticking out of his eye. Harry realised instantly the blood on her clothes wasn't all hers.

"Come in, quick." Luna beckoned them in, holding her own wand as well as Avery's in her hand. The others instantly complied, Harry being the last one to enter before Luna closed the door. Once she did, she instantly pulled a lever beside it Harry had missed before, and Harry heard several locks engage around the room, and the lights brightened a bit.

"That kept the others out as well." Luna said. "It also silences whatever happens in the room. We should be safe here, for now."

Neville nodded, and moved to put Ginny down in a chair behind a desk at the back of the room, and she only mildly complained as he did so quite roughly. Everyone else also collapsed against one of the walls. All except Harry, as he started pacing around the room, pulling at his hair. How had it all gone so wrong? He was so sure Sirius was here. Hell, even Kreacher said Sirius was gone, and the blasted House Elf hated them with a passion for being blood traitors, mud bloods or disgraces to the house of Black, upon remembering Harry's grandmother was a Black and so were Ron and Ginny's grandparents or great grandparents. He didn't recall how far back it went exactly.

"What now?" Hermione asked, as she slowly got up and walked over to Ginny. As soon as she reached the girl, she got her wand out and started casting spells, trying to do something for the injured leg.

"We can't stay here." Neville stated, his usual slight stutter from nerves briefly gone in the adrenaline rush. "Sooner or later they're going to realise we aren't in the Hall of Prophecies, and figure out we left that hall. They'll head off to block the exit, and if they find those Death Eaters outside, they're going to start banging down the door."

"And we're fish in a barrel in here." Ron said. "Where would we all take cover? Behind the desk that can barely fit us all?"

"I'm thinking." Harry finally snapped, silencing them all. "I'm thinking, alright?" Before he could come up with anything to add, he hear a dreaded loud call outside the room.

"They're here!" Augustus Rookwood called. "Mulciber and Jugson are stunned outside the Time Room. And it's still locked."

"We're on our way." Lucius Malfoy called back. "Macnair found the Lestrange Brothers, and Dolohov got Bellatrix back to her feet. We'll surround them, break open the chamber, kill them all-"

"And spare the boy, and take him and the Prophecy to the Dark Lord, we know." Macnair said irritably. And to Harry's dread, his voice came from the other side of the only other door out of the room.

Harry's blood stopped for a few moments, and the others, including Ginny, all got to their feet. This was it. The Time Room had only two exits, and it sounded like both of them were surrounded by at least two Death Eaters. And as tired and beaten as they were they wouldn't stand a chance. Harry hurriedly glanced around for a door he'd missed, a ventilation duct he'd overlooked, hell a damn tube for the owls or flying envelopes for all he knew. Anything that would allow him to get him and his friends out of this. But aside from the two doors the room was hermetically sealed tight.

A blast echoed behind him, and he and the others all turned to look. Macnair and Rookwood stood there, the door blasted to pieces before them. Behind them, Harry could see Lucius and Bellatrix approaching as well, with Dolohov in tow. The Lestrange brothers approached as well, but they branched off, likely to cover the other, still locked down exit.

Macnair snarled. "Die, you bloody brats." He called, sending a purple curse their way. Harry easily dodged by leaning to the side, and he could see the only other person in its path, Luna, also had similarly no problems in evading the curse.

"No!" Rookwood said, to everyone's surprise, as he pushed Macnair's wand down. "If you hit the..."

Too late, Harry saw where the curse was headed, and he saw it impact the bell jar he'd observed earlier. And it, in turn, collapsed and broke against a large, open cabinet full of Time Turners. Rookwood visibly paled, and Harry knew something was terribly wrong. Rookwood had been a spy for Voldemort in this particular department, so he knew most (if not all) of what was going on here. And if he thought Macnair had screwed up badly...

"BACK UP!" Rookwood yelled, as he dragged an angry Macnair away, and lifted the pieces of the door back up. To Harry's concern, most of the Time Turners shattered, and the sand inside them started to float upwards, mixing with the mysterious contents of the bell jar.

"But what of the Prophecy?" Lucius demanded, his tone somewhere between anger and shock at Rookwood defying his orders. "If we return without the Prophecy, the Dark Lord will-"

"We'll come back for it later, Malfoy!" Rookwood yelled back, as Harry saw him desperately cast multiple reparo charms in an attempt to repair the hermetic seal on the door. "If that sand reaches us we'll die anyway, and I can assure you such a death is ten times worse than anything the Dark Lord can do to us."

Harry saw the other Death Eaters visibly blanch alongside Rookwood, and Harry couldn't blame them. He'd seen and heard what Voldemort could do to people he was truly mad at. He'd tried to choke the life out of Harry in first year, tried to set a Basilisk on him and the Muggleborns through a possessed diary in second year, and had one of his subordinates rig an international tournament known to kill its contestants just so he could get at Harry last year. No, Harry knew Voldemort was capable of anything when he was angry.

"We need to get out." He said, turning to the others. But he needn't have bothered. Hermione and Luna were already casting various spells at the remaining door, trying to get it open, while Ron tried to raise the lever again, without success. Ginny, meanwhile, was ripping the various clocks off the wall, trying to find a way out they'd missed. The sand, meanwhile, was now swirling around them in clusters. And it was picking up speed.

"Step aside." Harry said, and he shouldered himself between Hermione and Luna, raising his own wand and the one he'd grabbed off of Nott.

"Bombarda Maxima!" He called out, doing the wand movement with both wands, and casting them both simultaneously at the door. He was mildly surprised at his success, as he'd never even tried simultaneous casting before. But his surprise was short-lived, as both spells impacted against the door, but with little success. In fact, the only indicator he'd attacked the door at all was the scorch mark and slight indentation that now marked the door.

"Harry, that-" Hermione tried to warn him, but he never managed to hear the rest of her sentence. The swirling cloud of sand finally passed over them, and the next moment his scar erupted in such an intense pain he'd never felt before, and he passed out.

---

Potter Manor, Near English East Coast.

As the Sun slowly set on the Potter property, James hurried down the stairs, Sirius hot on his heels. His father's birthday was yesterday (And James swore he'd never been to a more boring event. As much as he loved his father, nearly all of his friends and associates are at least trice, sometimes even four times his age, and uncle Fleaumont could be so annoying sometimes), and he had promised Remus and Peter could come over today. A good thing too: the Full Moon was yesterday, and Moony would be at the very least tired as hell. And he'd just seen the boys outside, apparated to the edge of the property by Remus' father.

James skidded to a stop just in front of the door, and actually bumped into it when Sirius collided with him. Both boys went down in a tumble, and James glared at Sirius as he pushed his 'brother' off of him. "What did I tell you about breaking, Padfoot?"

"To break stuff as often as possible?" Sirius offered with a grin, as he got to his feet.

"No. To not run into me at full speed." James said. "Next time I'll tell Dorea."

"You wouldn't!" Sirius accused in mock-terror. "You aren't becoming a snitch, are you Prongs?"

"I certainly didn't do it. And I won't have mum accuse me of doing it." James slowly let a smile edge over his face, opening the door for Remus and Peter. The former stood there with his fist slightly raised, apparently having been a few inches from knocking before James opened the door.

"Moony, Wormie." Sirius greeted enthusiastically. "Come on in. Chop chop, plans to make, mayhem to cause. We need to ensure a chaotic year at Hogwarts."

"We don't need to plan for that." Peter returned with his own smile. "All we need to do is set you loose on the castle. It'll deliver enough chaos to make Filch lose his remaining few hairs."

"As well as his job," James noted. "If we let Padfoot loose the castle is destroyed in a week."

"Hey!" Sirius cried indignantly, but he was ignored by the others.

"You give him too much credit." Remus dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I say a month."

"I've got ten galleons that say it'll be two weeks." Peter smirked, tossing a sack containing said galleons up in the air before catching it again.

"Deal," James said, and Remus was quick to agree.

"That's not true." Sirius protested. "I would never destroy the castle that fast"

Instantly, all three boys turned to Sirius in amusement.

"Oh, really?" Remus questioned. "How about the time you blew up half the dungeons and our entire potions class because you thought mixing muggle fireworks, a timed Confringo curse, and dung bombs into an Exploding Potion was a good idea?"

"Well, about that-"

"Or the time half the castle was flooded because you kept provoking Moaning Myrtle, and she busted all the toilets in retaliation?" Peter snickered. "Even Dumbledore took a week to get the smell of dung out of his office. And that's with the help of his Phoenix and Flitwick."

"Hey, that wasn't-"

"Or the time you tried to set loose all of the rabbits and squirrels from the Forbidden Forest into the Great Hall and charmed them to look like Acromantula?" James suggested, a full-blown smirk on his face when remembering that particular one. "As I recall, one of the students panicked enough that he called his Auror mother through the Floo, and we had the full Auror division here in less than an hour."

"Hey, you guys all helped with that." Sirius protested.

"True." Remus conceded. "But as you can see, we have a full list of times you nearly ruined the entire castle. Want us to go on?"

Sirius sighed dramatically, throwing his head back in exasperation. "Alright. Maybe I have a slight tendency to let things get a little bit out of control, but-"

"A little bit?" Peter questioned.

"Maybe?" Remus raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Slight?" James smirked.

"Shut up, you tossers," Sirius yelled at them, making all four of them laugh.

It was a fun day whenever the four Marauders managed to reunite. Before long dinner came around, and aside from the four children and James' parents Charlus and Dorea, his uncle and aunt, Fleamont and Euphemia came along for dinner as well. Fleamont and his wife lived overseas in the United States, running Sleekeazy company, his own business specialised (ironically, considering James' untameable hair) in creating a potion allowing people to tame their messy hair. It was noted in the family, though, that James was the only case where the potion had failed thus far, and it was a hobby of Fleamont to test it on James whenever he was visiting his English relatives.

James smiled, as he stared down the table. This was his family, he noted in content from his corner of the long dinner table. Sirius, trading barbs with his great aunt (and James' mother) Dorea, with Charlus looking on in amusement. Remus and Fleamont, talking about the new Wolfsbane potion that would come out next year, that would allow Remus to keep his mind during his transformations. And last but most certainly not least, Peter and Aunt Euphemia, the latter asking about the grades and home life of the former. Yes, this was the kind of life and family he wanted to have. Well, of course, Lily was missing from that picture, as well as her parents and sister. But there would be more than enough time for that later. After all, he still had three years of Hogwarts to go, and he promised himself he would be more driven than ever.

A loud crack disrupted him from his thoughts, followed closely by another. And another. Then three more. After that, there were numerous more softer cracks outside, and James frowned in concern. The property was warded against Apparation and Portkey usage, so there should be no way for anyone to get here without them knowing. Hence why his concern only grew when Charlus, Fleamont and Dorea got up with wands in hand, and slowly walked to the door. James stood up an grabbed his wand as well, but a single look from his mother stopped him from following. Everyone else now also had their wands out as well, although like him none moved to get out of the Dining room.

Dorea and Fleamont took place at one side of the door, while Charlus took another, ready to kick it open and look who the intruders were. James wasn't too concerned: Before retiring to take up the Potion business and head of House matters respectively, both Fleamont and Charlus had spent over ten years in the Auror department, and had fought alongside heroes like Arcturus Black, Hyperion Greengrass, Hector Longbottom and the twins Deckard and Seraphina Bones in the war against Grindelwald. And Dorea, although a healer by nature, was a Black, and knew her fair share of dark and violent curses. She could handle herself in a dangerous situation fairly well.

After a count of three, Charlus kicked down the door, and he, Dorea and Fleamont rushed into the living room, expecting to have to fight for their lives. They were met, however, by a sight they would never have expected to see.

Six people were strewn throughout the room, laying in various positions. Well, kids really. James could see, even from here, that they were barely his own age. One of the kids, a blond, chubby kid, was hanging from the chandelier by his sweater. Two more, a red-headed boy, and his sister, lay against a cabinet with Dorea's china, the boy stirring and rubbing his head. A bushy haired girl lay strewn across the floor, a dirty-haired blond with a lot of blood on her clothes on top of her.

But it was the last kid that drew everyone's attention. He was messy-haired of a raven-like colour, scrawny, and had emerald eyes. The last they could see because they were fluttering. James felt like he was staring at his bloody twin, and only Peter closing it told James he had dropped his jaw in shock at the sight.

But that wasn't what drew their attention. No, it was the dark cloud of magic erupting from the boy's forehead, and him contorting in pain along with it, that had their focus. He grunted in pain, as the dark cloud streamed from his head just above his eyes, and the cloud screamed in agony with it.

"What the hell?" Fleamont muttered, at the sight, before he cast a protective shield around the kid. Intruding or not, he resembled James an awful lot, and they still needed answers on how he broke the wards. Not to mention that dark magic cloud could be dangerous to the other kids, not to mention their own family.

"Harry!" Someone called in concern, and James turned to see the bushy-haired girl get up and run to him, only to run head on into the shield, being pushed back on her arse. This alerted the other children, and one by one those that could get up did, and headed for the dark-haired boy.

"Who are you?" Charlus asked, raising his wand at them.

"Who are we?" the red-haired boy asked indignantly, turning to the three Potters. "Who are you?"

Charlus frowned, as he and his younger brother shared a glance. While he was by no means world famous, he wasn't that unknown. And the Potter family was quite recognisable in that regard. The fact Fleamont, Charlus and James shared the same messy hair and glasses was proof of that. "Charlus Potter. Head of House Potter." he answered.

"The Auror?" the chubby guy asked, still hanging from the chandelier. "I thought he had been dead for over twenty years."

"Very funny, kid," Fleamont said, raising his own wand at the children. "But I think I would know if my own brother was dead."

The children that were awake and coherent shared a very concerned glance, and James frowned. What the hell had these kids so worried? In the end, the Bushy-haired girl stepped forward. "Sirs, Madam, this might seem like a very odd question. But what is the date?"

James frowned, but he answered for his parents and uncle. "Nineteenth of July, 1975."

The kids all looked at him with widened eyes, and the bushy-haired girl started shaking. The only ones unaffected by the answer, in fact, were the boy with dark magic still streaming out of his forehead, though the cloud coming out had thinned considerably as it mostly now hung above him, and the dirty blonde, who had a dreamy expression throughout the exchange, which was only broken periodically when she glanced at the dark-haired boy.

"Why?" Fleamont asked, but before he could answer there was a loud boom. The red-haired girl's eyes immediately widened in concern. "Hermione, did the sand escape the room? Did we manage to seal it in?"

"No, the door remained open. Why?" Her brother answered. His sister, in response, merely shook her head, before narrowing her eyes in determination. She turned to the three elder Potters.

"We'll answer your questions later, Sirs." Fleamont opened his mouth to protest, but the James observed the girl just continued on, without regard for his uncle at all. "But mere moments before we were brought here, we were busy fighting and trying to escape from Death Eaters."

That shut Fleamont up, and Charlus immediately focused on the task at hand. If whatever the kids did happened while they were being pursued, it wasn't a leap to imagine the Death Eaters following them. "How many?"

"A dozen." the Blond girl answered. "We didn't stop to count, but we heard orders being given to eleven names, and there was a twelfth leading them. We stole the wands of half of them, though."

Charlus nodded and turned to the other Potters and the Dining room. "Euphemia, get the boys and the other children to the shelter under the cellar. Keep it locked until either I or Fleamont tell you it's safe." Euphemia nodded, and led James and the others to the Cellar. The last he heard of his father before that was him instructing to cover the rear entrance to the gardens, while he and Fleamont would take the front. He headed in first, and snapped on the torches with a brief wave of his wand, illuminating the spacious cellar often used as a practice arena. He and Sirius lifted one of the training matts off the ground, revealing a door with a ring worked inside an indentation so the top of the ring was level with the floor. Remus lifted it up, and held it up as he stepped inside first. The others soon followed, and James jumped in shortly after Peter, with Sirius and Euphemia bringing up the rear. It was only after the door closed again that Harry noted that none of the new arrivals had followed them in.

---

Unknown

Harry groaned as he opened his eyes. Bloody hell, that hurt!

What the heck had happened? He'd been fighting in the Department of Mysteries, then he'd hidden with the others in the Time Room to protect the-

The Prophecy!

He quickly patted his jacket pocket and sighed in relief when he still felt the bulbous shape of the glass orb. Good, he still had it. It would have been an absolute waste of time if he'd lost or broken it when the Time Chamber had exploded. But now, he was in the darkness.

No, not exact darkness. He saw shapes begin to form. As he concentrated, he saw he was in a large room, and he was surprised to realise it was one of the old Potions classrooms, one connected to an old office. He knew because it was on the map, and he'd caught the twins in there a few times making some of their products for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. But instead of the multiple desks with cauldrons and potions equipment, he saw a table with multiple people sitting behind it let by a short, rather rotund man with a walrus-like mustache. He was talking animatedly with the various people sitting at the other chairs, including a man with long blond hair that might be related to Malfoy.

But then Harry recognized someone else, and his heart stopped. Impossible. He was nowhere near here or at the very least recognizable misshapen serpentine monster. Yet he still stood before him in a way that shouldn't be possible.

The sixteen-year-old Thomas Marvolo Riddle Junior. Or Lord Voldemort, as the man himself preferred nowadays.

Harry was startled the very next moment, as he started to hear sounds, and he realised he could listen in on the conversations. Part of him didn't want to. He preferred to never hear that voice again, that deceptively smooth voice. That voice that had forced Ginny to unleash a Basilisk, to kill various roosters, and to write in their blood on the walls. But he had no choice. He might learn something new. Something vital. Something that could help him learn what Voldemort was after. Besides, Harry had no choice anyway. He couldn't move a single inch, and was forced to observe the events before him. With reluctance, he forced himself to pay attention.

"-true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?"

"Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn't tell you," said the rotund man with the mustache, obviously a professor, wagging his finger reprovingly at Riddle, though winking at the same time. "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are."

Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.

"What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter – thank you for the pineapple, by the way, you're quite right, it is my favourite –"

Several of the boys tittered again.

"– I confidently expect you to rise to Minister of Magic within twenty years. Fifteen, if you keep sending me pineapple, I have excellent contacts at the Ministry."

Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again. Harry noticed that he was by no means the eldest of the group of boys, but that they all seemed to look to him as their leader.

"I don't know that politics would suit me, sir," he said when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing."

A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader's famous ancestor.

"Nonsense," said the professor briskly, "couldn't be plainer you come from decent wizarding stock, abilities like yours. No, you'll go far, Tom, I've never been wrong about a student yet."

The small golden clock standing upon the professor's desk chimed eleven o'clock behind him and he looked around.

"Good gracious, is it that time already? You'd better get going boys, or we'll all be in trouble. Lestrange, I want your essay sent in by tomorrow or it's detention. Same goes for you, Avery."

One by one, the boys filed out of the room. The Professor heaved himself out of his armchair and carried his empty glass over to his desk. A movement behind him made him look around; Riddle was still standing there.

"Look sharp, Tom, you don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect..."

"Sir, I wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away..."

"Sir, I wondered what you know about... about Horcruxes?"

The Professor stared at him, his thick ringers absentmindedly clawing the stem of his wine glass.

"Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?"

But Harry could tell that the Professor knew perfectly well that this was not schoolwork.

"Not exactly, sir," said Riddle. "I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it."

"No... well... you'd be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that'll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom, that's very Dark stuff, very Dark indeed," said the Professor.

"But you obviously know all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you – sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously – I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could – so I just thought I'd ask –"

It was very well done, thought Harry, the hesitancy, the casual tone, the careful flattery, none of it overdone. He, Harry, had had too much experience of trying to wheedle information out of reluctant people not to recognize a master at work. He could tell that Riddle wanted the information very, very much; perhaps had been working toward this moment for weeks.

"Well," said the Professor, not looking at Riddle, but fiddling with the ribbon on top of his box of crystallized pineapple, "well, it can't hurt to give you an overview, of course. Just so that you understand the term. A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul.'

"I don't quite understand how that works, though, sir," said Riddle.

His voice was carefully controlled, but Harry could sense his excitement.

"Well, you split your soul, you see," said the man, "and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But of course, existence in such a form..."

The man's face crumpled and Harry found himself remembering words he had heard a year before: "I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost... but still, I was alive."

"... few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable."

But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing.

"How do you split your soul?"

"Well," said the professor uncomfortably, "you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature."

"But how do you do it?"

"By an act of evil – the supreme act of evil. By committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage: he would encase the torn portion –"

"Encase? But how – ?"

"There is a spell, do not ask me, I don't know!" said the professor shaking his head like an old elephant bothered by mosquitoes. "Do I look as though I have tried it – do I look like a killer?"

"No, sir, of course not," said Riddle quickly. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to offend..."

"Not at all, not at all, not offended," said the Professor gruffly, "It is natural to feel some curiosity about these things... wizards of a certain calibre have always been drawn to that aspect of magic..."

"Yes, sir," said Riddle. "What I don't understand, though – just out of curiosity. I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces, I mean, for instance, isn't seven the most powerfully magical number, wouldn't seven – ?"

"Merlin's beard, Tom!" yelped the rotund man. "Seven! Isn't it bad enough to think of killing one person? And in any case... bad enough to divide the soul... but to rip it into seven pieces..."

The Professor looked deeply troubled now: he was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before, and Harry could tell that he was regretting entering into the conversation at all.

"Of course," he muttered, "this is all hypothetical, what we're discussing, isn't it? All academic..."

"Yes, sir, of course," said Riddle quickly.

"But all the same, Tom... keep it quiet, what I've told – that's to say, what we've discussed. People wouldn't like to think we've been chatting about Horcruxes. It's a banned subject at Hogwarts, you know... Dumbledore's particularly fierce about it..."

"I won't say a word, sir," said Riddle, and he left, but not before Harry had glimpsed his face, which was full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found out that he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not enhance his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human...

"Harry!" A voice pierced the image, as it dissolved. A very familiar voice, that managed to change the scenery. And rather than standing in the old classroom, he was laying on a table in a rather lavish living room, a dark cloud above his head that was dissipating faster by the second.

"Hermione?" He grunted as he got up. "What's happened?"

The answer, however, became very clear, as a window behind him shattered and a spell sailed through, over his head. "We've traveled back in time, Harry," Hermione said urgently, trying to drag him to his feet. "And we brought the Death Eaters with us."

That did it for Harry. Shaking off the memory for later contemplation, he shot to his feet, his wand immediately in hand as well as the one belonging to Crabbe. He thrust that one in Hermione's now free hand, and grabbed Nott's wand for his own. He moved to the nearby window where the spell had sailed through and saw that the Death Eaters had surrounded the house they were in. And that they were scattered and weakened. He saw two try to run away, only to run into the house's wards. And very powerful wards, too, as the two disintegrated upon touching them and the wards briefly lit up in a light blue hue before becoming transparent again.

"Fools!" he heard Lucius Malfoy yell angrily. "We can't leave this place until we destroy the wardstone. Get inside and find it!"

It was answered by several affirmatives, and a mad cackle of glee from Bellatrix, who had somehow managed to get her hands on a wand. He immediately saw four people get up from cover across the property, and head towards the house at a run. From somewhere to his left a dangerous purple ad yellow coloured curse sailed towards one of the Death Eaters, and he died in agony as his body literally was eaten away at by acid, before succumbing to his injuries. The other three, however, managed to reach the manor before the residents could kill or otherwise stop them. One entered by jumping through the window right next to Harry, and he recognised him as Mulciber. Harry instinctively sent a Piercing Hex Neville had taught him from his family Grimoire at the Death Eater's face. He was instantly awarded success, as the curse hit the man straight in the eye, and the man clutched at the now-empty eye socket that seeped a lot of blood. Harry stunned him, and sent a cutting curse at the wand hand for good measure, severing a pair of fingers and leaving the man disarmed again.

Hermione was equally successful, as she was keeping Nott backed into a corner while Harry finished his own opponent off. Harry sent a stunner at the man, which he deflected back at Hermione, who shielded herself against it. But Nott was in trouble now. He was duelling two people at the same time, backed into a corner, and during the chase through the Hall of Prophecies, he'd noted the man relied more on reputation and name, rather than actual skill. His wandwork was sloppy and unrefined. It wasn't long before the man failed to defend himself against Hermione's disarmer, and his spare wand went sailing across the room. Harry grabbed a number of pieces of broken glass and sent them at the man, and a large one pinned itself into the man's shoulder, paralysing him in pain. A Body-Bind from Hermione kept him in the corner where they could get back to him later.

Harry turned and ran, sprinting to help the one who had taken down one of the previous Death Eaters outside earlier in the fight. He ran into a room, where a man was surprisingly holding his own against Rookwood, Dolohov, and Malfoy. Ginny was fighting beside the man, shielding herself and the man so he could focus on attacking his opponents.

Harry sent a curse to distract Rookwood, which worked as the man diverted his attention from the man and to Harry. This, in turn, allowed the man to focus on Dolohov while Ginny, with the assistance of Hermione, kept Lucius Malfoy occupied. Rookwood sent a Cruciatus at Harry, who rolled to the side. He got up and tried to once again send a disarmer at the senior man, but Rookwood batted it aside and sent a blood boiling curse at him. Harry hurriedly raised his own shield at that one, and send a trio at stunners at him. The man deflected the first two away, and side stepped the third.

And Dolohov was thrown into the man by a powerful banishing charm, and both collapsed onto the ground. Before Harry could react, the man beside him conjured a large, thick, long Javelin, and banished it at both men before they could get up. It pierced the centre of both their chests, pinning both men to the ground. For good measure, the man conjured a large swarm of insects, which he set on the men's wands. Harry watched in mild horror as the wands were being eaten whole in seconds in front of his very eyes. Termites, Harry realised the insects were called. Harry stared at the man for a few moments. Conjuration was one of the more difficult branches of magic, especially to do it as fast as this man did. And he didn't seem even close to exhausted, contrary to how Harry often felt after his attempts at Conjuration. The man must be quite powerful to do it multiple times.

Meanwhile, he noticed Ginny and Hermione had Lucius down on the ground, clutching his right hand while Ginny stomped on his wand, snapping it in two.

"This is for my first year, you bastard," Ginny growled as she kicked him in the face, knocking him out. She then proceeded to try and kick and beat the sense out of him, only stopping when Hermione tried to pull her back. And even then, Harry noticed she wasn't done, continuing to curse him with some of the more violent curses he had taught in the DA. He briefly looked away when she finally used a Reducto on him, which ripped his chest open.

While Harry wasn't happy she had killed the man (the only person whose death he'd be glad for was Voldemort), he couldn't blame her. The man had sneaked a cursed diary into her school supplies, which had had an entire year to slowly link her mind to the previous owner, Voldemort himself. The diary had made her do terrible things, including the slaughtering of the school's roosters, the petrification of multiple Muggle-borns, and unleashing a Basilisk onto the school grounds. All because Malfoy wanted to destroy her family's reputation forever. No, the man deserved everything she did to him.

But that didn't mean he had to like seeing people die.

The man shook his shoulder for a bit, bringing Harry back out of his thoughts, and he turned around.

"You okay, kid?" the man asked, concerned. Harry nodded. While he didn't feel alright with all the destruction that was going on around them, there would be time for that later. These people needed his help. He owed it to them for leading the Death Eaters here in the first place, if nothing else.

"Then let's go." the man responded, beckoning the girls and Harry to follow him. "My wife and some of your friends need help in the dining room. This way." the man ran out of the room, and Harry followed close behind, Ginny and Hermione on his heels.

They arrived in the Dining room in short order, where a fierce-looking woman, in her late thirties or early forties, if he had to guess, was dueling the married couple Bellatrix and Rudolphus Lestrange, while Rabastan was slowly driving Neville into a corner. Ron lay in another corner, unconscious with part of a large table collapsed both on top of and beneath him.

Not hesitating for a moment, Harry flung an expelliarmus at the man, drawing his attention away from Neville, which succeeded even if the man shielded himself from the spell. Rabastan tried to curse Harry with a Cruciatus, but Harry was pushed to the side by Neville, who dodged it by mere inches himself. Rabastan tried, once again, to curse Harry with that curse, but the man that had dealt with Rookwood and Dolohov had returned and flung his wand faster at the man than Harry could keep track, and it almost seemed as if the man was casting one continuous long spell, instead of dozens of curses closely behind one another.

Rabastan, surprised by the apparent skill of the man, didn't last long. A spell broke through a hastily erected shield, hitting the man in the head. Said head immediately grew to quite a large size, almost the size of a beach ball, and for a moment, Harry thought it might explode. But instead, the man suddenly fell forward, as his head grew in weight as well as in size. Before the Death Eater could undo the spell, Neville stalked over, rolled him over so the man could look him in the eye. Before Rabastan could cast any hex or curse at Neville at all, Neville cast his Piercing Hex at the man's heart, and a fist-sized hole appeared in the man's chest. Rabastan's eyes widened in shock before the man's chest stopped heaving and his body slumped.

Harry took a quick look around, ensuring everyone else was alright. Ron, now conscious, had been dragged from underneath the pieces of the table and was being fussed over by Ginny and Hermione. The man was now fighting a bloodied and panicked-looking Rudolphus, while the woman and Bellatrix were engaged in a fierce duel. And Bellatrix was clearly losing, despite the fact she was working quite fast and casting curses at a frighteningly similar pace as the man. But the woman was casting very powerful curses that Bellatrix always tried to dodge frantically, and the woman rarely gave Bellatrix enough time to recover and cast a powerful curse on her own. The Torturer of the Longbottom family always cast merely hurried cutting and bludgeoning curses on instinct, rather than attacking with really powerful and dark curses. She even tried a Cruciatus, but the woman conjured a brick wall in between them and banished the resulting debris at her, further injuring the Death Eater.

The death stroke came when Bellatrix finally failed to dodge a curse, and she froze up, turning into an ice statue of herself. The woman finished her off with a powerful Reducto, which shattered the statue into fist-sized chunks. Rudolphus was also quickly beaten, when the man flung the man into the ceiling, before bringing him crashing to the ground and having a Chandelier above them crash onto the man. Even if he survived, that fall and the chandelier were sure to break a few bones and knock him out. In any event, the man didn't move after that and was definitely out of the fight.

The room calmed, as everyone looked around. After a few moments, the man and woman visibly relaxed. "That's all of them." he finally said.

"I got this bugger." a new voice said, and Harry turned around. Another man, similar to the first, stood in the doorway, Luna standing behind him. He was dragging the body of Walden Macnair with him, dropping it on top of the body of Rabastan. "Nasty bugger was tough to beat. Kept getting out shrunken beasts and restoring them to size."

"The Foyer's not exactly safe to travel through right now," Luna said, in her usual dreamy and distant voice. "The rubble from fighting that angry Griffin is strewn everywhere."

Harry nodded, as he checked Rudolphus for a pulse. He found none, which he had mixed feelings about. He would never be glad for a man's death, except maybe Voldemort's, and he didn't like taking a life. But at the same time, he knew the world would be better off without the man, especially with what he had done to Neville's parents.

"We have two incapacitated in the Living Room," Hermione told them. "And three of them in a sitting room."

"They're dead." the first man clarified. "One of them got a Reducto to the chest and the other two a Javelin through their lungs. They either bled to death or choked on their own blood."

"With these three, on top of the two morons that ran into the wards, that makes eleven." The woman finished. "There should be just one more."

"There was." The second man answered sadly. "He was already nearly dead when he arrived. Mortally wounded before... whatever you guys did." he gestured to Harry and the others, all stood roughly on the same side of the room. "Got him with an acid spell, and he's gone too."

"What we did?" Harry asked, confused.

"Harry." Hermione started. "Remember what I said when you woke up after..." She trailed off briefly, rethinking about her answer. "We've traveled back in time. To the nineteenth of July 1975."

Harry whirled to look at her, shocked by the revelation. "What?"

It couldn't be. They couldn't have traveled back that far. That's impossible to accomplish, even by the Unspeakables. True, it was Hermione who had said it, and she wasn't omniscient. And during the fight, things had gone really bad in the time room. But to travel back that far?

Far enough back that he could potentially meet his parents?

"That's not the only thing, Harry," Neville said to him, and Harry turned back to Neville, who looked quite shaken. "If I'm right, this is Potter Manor." He pointed behind Harry, to the first man Harry had met here. "And that's Charlus Potter."

Harry turned to look at both men, as well as the woman. If what Neville was saying was true, then he was looking at people who could potentially be his grandparents. Was that true? He had to admit, they did resemble a number of people in the photos he had seen in the photo album Hagrid had given him. But he had never been able to learn their names. Sirius and Remus, the only people still alive who knew and he knew well enough to ask, had only spoken of their past with his dad and mum, and only mentioned Harry's family (at least on his father's side) had perished because of the Death Eaters and that he was the last Potter left.

Wait, if his grandparents were here, and were still alive, did that mean his father was here, too?

"I'll get the others." the second man said, and he walked out of the room. While Harry tried to get his thoughts and emotions and the excitement at the opportunity of meeting his parents under control, he vaguely heard the man call in a lighter tone: "It's Ok. People are dead."

After another minute, a second group joined them, and his heart stopped. While he didn't recognize the older woman with the group, he recognized the rest of them.

After all, after having encountered them while a bit older, it was quite hard to forget the faces of Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black. And everyone had been right. He was a carbon copy of his father in the term of looks.

His father noticed that, too.

"Bloody hell," James muttered, before turning to his father. "Is there something you need to tell me? A hidden twin I never knew about."

"Doubt it," Sirius muttered. "No one would want to share your ugly face."

"HEY!" James and Harry both said indignantly, making most of the others chuckle. The second man still frowned, though.

"As much as I enjoy the bantering, we need to talk."

Harry nodded, and he and the others spent the next ten minutes repairing at least the dining room and sitting room enough so that they could all sit comfortably on it. The second man, who he learned was called Fleamont, took care of the handful that survived their wounds, namely Mulciber, Nott, Rookwood, Dolohov (the latter two barely) and Rudolphus. They helped put the bodies of them, Lucius, Bellatrix, Rabastan, Avery, and Macnair on a large pyre, burning their bodies to cinders and ensuring their past selves wouldn't run across the bodies. Crabbe and Jugson had been disintegrated when they ran into the wards. They then all settled in the living room, the six new arrivals in the centre with Fleamont and Charlus, while everyone else sat in a larger circle outside it to listen in.

"What do you want to know?" Harry asked. Charlus chuckled.

"Your names, for one thing." We heard a name or two sporadically, but we don't know who to place them with."

Harry nodded, admitting the man's point. "That's Neville Longbottom, the girl with a bird's nest for hair" he ducked to avoid a swat from her, amusing the others "is Hermione Granger."

"A bit hypocritical, don't you think, considering your own hair?" Ginny asked.

"At least you can't hide quills in my hair. OUCH!" Harry rubbed the back of his head where Hermione had hit him with a thick and large tome on repairing charms and runes she'd learned to help the others. Sirius and Peter held their sides in laughter, and he saw James and Remus hold back their own laughs as well.

"You deserved it, you prat." she muttered, putting the book back on the table she'd put it on.

"Ever tried Sleekeazy?" Fleamont asked, discreetly reaching into his robe.

"I did." Hermione admitted. "But it's too much of a fuss for day-to-day use. For special occasions, maybe, but I don't fancy spending fifteen minutes putting it into my hair."

"A pity," Fleamont said, ceasing his attempt to likely get a bottle of the stuff.

"Anyway." Neville continued. "The red-haired menaces are Ron and Ginny Weasley. And that's Luna Lovegood."

"A pleasure." Luna called in her dreamy voice."

"And I'm..." Harry paused, preparing himself mentally for dropping the bombshell. Finally, he let out a sigh and turned to James. "I'm Harry Potter. Your son."

James turned gobsmacked to his 'son', and every person not already looking his way turned their heads to regard the Potter son.

"My son?" James asked. Harry nodded in confirmation, and after a moment Sirius shouted out.

"HA! Bloody hell! We got a Prongslet!"

"Prongslet?" Ron sputtered, and Harry immediately hit his forehead.

"No." he muttered. "Whatever you call me, please not Prongslet."

"Why not?" Peter asked, a smile growing on his face. "It's better than Bambi."

Hermione lost it at that one, which in turn set off everyone else not Harry or above the age of eighteen. Harry glared at Peter. "Thank you." He said. "Thank you very much. I'm never going to live those two down."

"You're welcome," Peter smirked, as soon as he got his breath back. James, however, continued to look shocked at Harry.

"Bloody hell." he muttered, before moving much closer to look Harry over properly.

"Wait a moment," Fleamont said, a confused expression on his face. "If you're his son... who is your mother?"

Harry sighed, before looking at his father with a smile. "People say I look just like my father, but that I've got my mother's eyes."

James frowned a bit thinking it over, before taking a good look at his son's eyes. And when he saw whose eyes he did have, he smirked like the Cheshire cat.

"Padfoot, Wormtail, pay up!" he called, to the confusion of those not in on their nicknames. "You owe me twenty galleons."

Sirius seemed to know exactly what bet they were going on about, for his eyes widened to a comical size. "What?" he sputtered, making his own way over, and looking Harry in the eyes as well. He quickly got it as well and scowled.

"Dammit." he grabbed into his pocket and gave a handful of galleons to James.

"Alright, which one did we lose?" Peter said in an exasperated tone, as he walked over with his own pile of galleons in hand.

"The Evans bet," Sirius grumbled. Peter cursed under his own breath as he handed the gold to a smug James.

"All well and good that you got together with the love of your life," Remus said sarcastically, though there was a hint of a smirk on his face. "But what exactly happened that you guys get here?"

Harry sighed, running his hands through his hair nervously. "Where do I even start?"

"At the beginning," Dorea suggested calmly. "And don't worry. Take your time."

"It might help if one of you used Legillimency." Luna suggested. "It might convince them you're telling the truth."

Harry immediately groaned. "No. No Legillimency. I have bad experiences with Legillimency."

"Harry, these people aren't Professor Snape." Luna pressed. "Your grandparents were good legillimens and occlumens." she ignored the astonished looks of the marauders Snape made it as a professor. "They'll be much gentler than him at that."

Harry sighed, leaning back on the couch he shared with Hermione and Neville. "Can't we use Veritaserum or something?"

"We don't have any," Fleamont answered. "And it takes a month for me to brew, even if I get Ministry or MACUSA approval somehow. Like it or not Harry, but Legillimency is the best way to ascertain if you lot are who you say you are."

Harry sighed, before nodding. "Alright. Let's get this over with."

Charlus nodded as he leaned forward a bit. Harry instantly felt the push of Legillimency, but unlike the sessions with Snape, it was gentler and smoother. Instead of the instant hammer-like blows Snape delivered, this felt more like a scalpel smoothly cutting into sedated flesh. Harry soon saw his life flash past him, starting at his life with the Dursleys. He grimaced, as every painful memory of that time flashed past. The Harry-hunts, the time spent starved and locked up in the cupboard... he grimaced as the images of Ripper hunting him all the way into the tree flashed past.

But then the better parts began. The brief encounter with that snake in the zoo. Getting his Hogwarts letter from Hagrid, meeting Ron, Hermione, and Neville on the train, becoming the youngest Seeker in the century, his encounters in that year with Fluffy and Norbert, the forbidden corridor and Quirrell. He smiled, as he remembered Dobby's antics trying to keep him out. True, they were dangerous and hurtful back then, but looking back, he appreciated the fact Dobby worked so hard to protect him. Plus the fact he got to ride in a flying car...

But then he got to the incidents with the Heir of Slytherin. The blood on the walls, and not to mention the Chamber and diary itself. And let's not forget the Basilisk. He felt a particularly bad wince when the parts flashed past about what would happen to Ginny and who Tom Riddle really was.

The year around Sirius Black's escape and what really happened seemed to really bother Charlus, as Harry felt a few... shocks along the connection felt like the best description. However, he also felt pride coming from his Grandfather, concerning some of the events from that year. Getting a Firebolt as a present from Sirius, how he managed to properly win the Quidditch cup, his growing friendship with Remus and accepting his furry problem, and most importantly the fact he managed a Patronus that managed to drive off nearly a hundred Dementors.

The fourth year flashed by Harry's eyes quite a bit quicker than the other memories, at least until the tournament started and he was named as a fourth contestant. Harry had to really concentrate, but he thought he actually felt anger coming to Charlus he was forced to compete. The rest of the tournament went by quite fast for him, though it lingered on the first task, and how he'd outflown a Hungarian Horntail. But Harry felt another jab at his heart when he relived the resurrection of Voldemort and saw Cedric die again right before his eyes. He knew he would have to live with that for the rest of his life, regardless of how well the future went. And knowing his luck, he knew it would never be going as well as he wanted.

Then they got to the fifth year, and he once again could feel Charlus anger through the Legillimency connection. Very curious, since he'd never been able to feel any sort of emotion come from Snape when he performed mind-magic. Perhaps Charlus was simply better at it. But he felt it very clearly that Charlus felt righteous anger at the Dementor attack and the ministry's response to it. And then the debacle at Hogwarts that was Umbridge, and on top of Dumbledore ignoring him... It needn't be mentioned that this was the worst year for Harry in Charlus' opinion. He did feel quite a bit of his grandfather's pride at the DA, but it was simply overshadowed by all that had gone wrong that year.

And then the vision of Sirius being tortured by Voldemort came past again, as well as Harry's response to it. If Charlus hadn't been so focused on performing Legillimency, Harry got the feeling that his grandfather would have planted his head in his hands at Harry's recklessness. Harry admitted he hadn't thought it all through properly, but he still felt he had done what seemed right at the time, and he couldn't fault himself for that. He saw Umbridge's failed attempts at communicating with the Centaurs, how he'd handled the Department of Mysteries and its Death Eater ambush, before finally settling on the Time Chamber and the fight in the manor.

He felt Charlus withdraw from his mind, and he finally saw himself back in the living room. Charlus collapsed backward in his chair, holding his head in his hand. Immediately, he saw Dorea and Fleamont move to help him, while those of Harry's group also came closer to support him.

"Bloody hell," Charlus muttered, before turning to Fleamont. "Firewhiskey," he said immediately. "The bottle from 1709. A full glass."

"That bad?" Fleamont asked, with eyebrows raised.

"Worse," Charlus answered, his eyes not leaving Harry's figure. "But I don't have anything stronger here."

Fleamont frowned in concern, but obeyed and moved to a cabinet at the back of the room that had escaped the destruction of the fight. He pulled the door open and pushed a number of books aside, tapping his wand to the back wall. Immediately a small section disappeared, and he saw a number of objects in a gap in the wall appear in its place. Among the objects, there were a number of books Harry had no doubt were dark in nature, as well as a number of rare potion vials. But instead, Fleamont went for one of a number of bottles there, grabbed it, and made the wall covering the hidden stash reappear. He grabbed a glass from the same cabinet, filled it nearly to the rim, and held it out for Charlus to take. The man took it and swallowed the contents in one long gulp.

"Blimey." Harry heard Ron mutter as he leaned closer to Hermione. "And you joke about my eating habits?" Harry snickered, as Hermione turned the thick tome on Ron this time, and he heard Neville do the same on his other side.

Charlus finally finished the glass, and set it down on the table. "Bloody hell, Harry. All the stuff you went through."

"He's telling the truth?" Fleamont pressed. "All of it?"

"If anything, he's downplaying what happened so far." Charlus returned, and Fleamont cursed. "Bloody hell."

"Language." Euphemia returned, as she finally strode into the room. Harry hadn't even noticed her leave. It must have been during his Legillimency session with Charlus. "What will James and Sirius think of that?"

"They're Blacks, Phemie." a frowning Dorea returned. "They already know far worse than anything Fleamont can teach them. And don't take that as a challenge!" she yelled that last bit and pointed her finger when Fleamont raised his eyebrows challengingly.

Charlus merely sighed and turned to the Potter family and their friends. "Laugh all you want. But these people have had one of the most turbulent lives in history." He briefly looked at Harry, before continuing at Harry's nod. "He's orphaned, raised by his muggle relatives, fought a troll at age eleven, and encountered his first Dementor at age thirteen. And that's only the tip of the iceberg."

"He WHAT?!" Dorea yelled, her gaze turning to Harry. And Harry actually withdrew slightly. She seemed terrifying when she was angry, and the sudden shaking of Neville next to him confirmed that thought.

"What the hell were you doing there?" Dorea pressed. "We would have gladly raised you."

"You couldn't have." It was Neville who answered, and all heads turned to him. Even Harry, Hermione and some of the others from their time looked at him in surprise. Neville blushed at the attention but continued on anyway.

"My Gran told me once when I was younger. While Harry's parents and friends were at a bachelor party somewhere, Death Eaters attacked the Manor during a large family celebratory gathering. It was burned to the ground by Fiendfyre. No survivors, as far as anyone knew."

Fleamont cursed, and upended a small side table with a vase on it, surprising everyone. James, meanwhile, took on a sad look as he looked at his parents in a new light.

"Any idea how?" Charlus pressed, as he looked at Neville. "Because Fleamont's powerful enough to at least tame Fiendfyre enough to let us get out. And I reckon I could do it too if push came to shove."

"I don't know," Neville answered. "My Gran thinks the wards were turned against the residents, somehow. But no one could find any proof."

"They wouldn't," Fleamont said. "Fiendfyre would have erased any magical trace on top of burning down the Manor and property. Even the old coot of Hogwarts wouldn't have found out what happened beyond the Fiendfyre curse."

"So we all died?" Euphemia asked.

"No." Charlus said before Harry could even open his mouth to answer. "Peter was imperiused and forced to betray James and Harry's mother," the Marauders opened their mouths in shock, but Charlus continued. "Sirius was framed for it, and Remus suffered because of increasingly restrictive Werewolf laws. Peter hid away in shame, and is on the run when Sirius tried to murder him for it in anger."

The Marauders all looked at another in shock, and Harry couldn't blame him. Remus and Sirius had said quite often that the Marauders were practically inseparable when they were at Hogwarts. The thought of even one of them betraying the others, even under the Imperius curse, was unthinkable to them. And at the hurt look, Peter had, he could see why Charlus lied about how Peter really caused James to die. Clearly, whatever had caused Peter to join the Death Eaters hasn't happened yet.

Hermione was furiously whispering to Ron and Ginny, clearly explaining to them why they were sticking with that bit, and it went unnoticed by all those not in the know about what had really happened to Peter. The others were still too much in shock about the predicted betrayal.

In the end, it was Peter who spoke up. "But we can change that, right?" he asked hesitantly. "We can undo all that now, with all that you guys know." his face brightened suddenly, and he suddenly got a certain gleam to himself. "You guys know what happened during the last war. You can predict where You-Know-Who will attack! You can change the face of the war, make it go better even. You could change the world for the better, for all of us."

The others from this time all looked intrigued by this, though for various reasons. The adults were clearly interested in how they could clearly affect the war for the better, and fight against You-Know-Who with an advantage of knowing what he would do. The Marauders, Harry predicted, would be very interested in preventing this worst-case-scenario of how their group could clearly be undone.

"I don't know," Hermione said hesitantly. "It was drilled into us that it was very dangerous to mess with time. If we change anything, it could create various paradoxes that might end up getting us killed."

"Maybe." Fleamont conceded. "I have a friend in the Department of Mysteries. While Time Turners do exist already, none of them are able to bring you back to the future. And according to him, research into it won't start for a long, long time. Like it or not, you are stuck here."

"And unless you intend to lock yourselves up in our shelter under the cellar and not come out until you're dying, you're going to affect time anyway," Dorea said. "So you might as well use this chance to change the future for the better."

Hermione hesitated at this. While Harry knew she would still be opposed to this, he knew his words were getting through to her, and if not slowly convincing her, at least think this through a bit more.

"Hermione," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and making her look at him. "I hate asking this, but is the world back there really that good a world to return to? With Sirius forced on the run, Fudge bungling up Wizarding Britain, and Dumbledore practically powerless to stop it all, don't you think it would be better if we helped prevent all that?"

"But... our friends," she said. "my parents, Ron's family, the other Sirius, and Remus, not to mention your aunt and uncle-"

"They would hold a party to celebrate my disappearance." Harry dismissed bitterly. "And if we do change things for the better, we have a much better world to look forward to."

"But..." she started, before trailing off and looking at Ron and Ginny. The Weasley siblings indeed looked quite sad at the prospect they might not see their parents and brothers again.

But Neville spoke up then. "Harry's right, you know. We have a chance to change the world for the better. And even if we can't, if we live long enough we can still meet our relatives later on. It's not as if they die and we can never meet them again."

"And we can meet our parents," Harry said, as much to Neville as to Hermione. "Come on, Hermione, there is so much we can change for the better."

"I agree." Ron finally said with a sigh. "I might not like it, but there are better points and almost no bad ones. Not to mention our defence teachers won't be rubbish. No offence, Professor Lupin."

Contrary to being offended, as Ron expected, the Marauders burst into a fresh round of laughter, and Remus blushed furiously as he punched Sirius in the arm.

"Forgive us," James said, to the confusion of everyone else. "But he's such a know-it-all sometimes that we joke he should just take up a teaching position."

"Reckon he'd get along with Hermione just fine then," Ron said. "OW."

"Careful, Ronald," Ginny said smugly, lowering the tome she'd stolen from Hermione. "Or I might reveal-"

"Ok, Ok," he said quickly, blushing furiously. "I'll stop."

"Whipped," Sirius whispered to James, smirking.

"Ok." Hermione finally said. "I'd guess it would be better if we stayed and helped."

"Excellent," Fleamont said, before frowning. "We'd have to come up with a damn good cover story though. None of us are that good at tutoring, and it'll be hard to explain how the six of you suddenly showed up."

"That's simple, really," Luna said, getting the attention from everyone. "We say he's James's twin."
Charlus and Dorea looked between the two specified twins, while the others (Hermione and Ron specifically) gave Luna incredulous looks.

"It could work." Charlus finally said. "We could have sent him to the continent for extra tutoring, and that we pulled him back due to the war. Merlin knows he's powerful enough for that."

"And what of the rest of us?" Ginny asked, walking forwards to join in on the discussions.

"Friends he met during his schooling abroad, and who wanted to go with him to Hogwarts," Fleamont said, tapping his chin in thought as he worked out the details. "Either Muggleborns, or Halfbloods, since we don't know any prominent Pureblood families on the continent you lot can convincingly say you're from." He paused, looking at Neville with a frown. "Neville resembles his parents too much, though. And they aren't as private as we are, so that could be an issue."

"No, it won't," Neville said. "We tell them as well, and we discuss any options with them. If nothing else, I can pretend to be the son of uncle Algie, and he's an Unspeakable so people won't know much about him anyway. I'm sure he'll agree."

Charlus and Fleamont shared glances but nodded. "I'll have them floo'd over at the end of the month so we can discuss the details, but that could work," Fleamont admitted. "As for possible aliases for those of you that need it, we'll go to Gringotts tomorrow and set up trust accounts for all of you, Charlus will talk to Dumbledore and get you signed up to go to Hogwarts, and we'll figure the long run out from there."

"Funny how you leave the annoying job to me, little brother." Charlus snarked.

"Well, I can't very well go up there and do it for you, can I? Especially since you and Dorea will be looking after them, and not me and Phemie."

"You're not staying?" Harry asked of his great-uncle, who shook his head.

"I live in North America, and I can't stay away too long. Sleekeazy would fail without me. I'm leaving at the end of next week." Fleamont shook his head sadly. "I promise I'll write, though."

Harry nodded. "Alright. That could work. We could spend our years in Hogwarts learning as much as we can, and afterward, we'll help out any way we can."

Charlus nodded as well, rising from his seat. "Agreed. Now all of you off to bed. We had a long day, and you'll all need your rest. We'll work out names, Gringotts and which year you'll be in in the morning."

Harry nodded reluctantly, not wanting to go to bed so soon after meeting his family. But a yawn from Ron, who in turn set of Peter, Remus and Neville, drove home the point they had indeed had a long day. And he himself also felt quite tired. A day long of exams, especially in the boring subject of History of Magic, followed by the circumstances of dealing with Umbridge, Grawp and the Centaurs, hours of holding on while he flew a Thestral, and the prolonged battle with Death Eaters at the Ministry and Potter Manor had left him quite exhausted, not to mention the energy the forced images of Sirius being tortured had taken from him. He knew they would need their rest.

"Where do we sleep?" Harry asked.

"For now you'll sleep in our guest quarters," Charlus answered. "They have multiple beds and can hold you all for now. We'll sort this out, like the other details, in the morning. Now go on, scat. Before I set Dorea on you."

Harry couldn't help but smirk, as the Marauders hurried to get up and out of the room. Harry and the rest of his group reluctantly got up and followed closely, heading for the Foyer. As Luna had said, it was a mess. Everywhere he looked beast corpses and rubble were strewn around the large hall, and he had trouble walking through a narrow path to one of the two circular stairs and up to the second floor. When they got up there the Marauders headed down the main hall, and James stopped halfway and pointed to his right.

"You'll be staying in there for now." he said, opening the door and pointing to the final two doors behind it on their side of the hall. Inside was, as said, a guest room with two beds, a cabinet for clothes and a door leading to a bathroom. A sofa was located below a window on one side of the wall, and a desk with parchment and ink bottles occupied the sole remaining side of the room. It was quite spacious, too, the result of an extension charm no doubt.

"We're bunking in James' room across from you guys," Sirius said, pointing to one of the rooms in the hall. "Charles and adores are in the other wing with Flemie and Phemie."

"Flemie, huh?" Peter asked knowingly. "If you think You-Know-Who is scary, you say that to his face, Siri."

"I won't," Sirius said immediately, a fearful look in his eyes. "I like my hair the way it is, thank you very much."

Harry smirked, as everyone gave a good laugh at that. It had been a tense evening, and they needed something to loosen their nerves.

"Well, uh... Good night." Harry said awkwardly. James nodded, just as troubled at finding words for what had happened.

"Yeah. Goodnight." He said as well. With that, he shepherded the Marauders into his room quite roughly and slammed the door behind him. Leaving Harry and his friends standing awkwardly in the room.

"Soooo..." Ron trailed off.

"How do we do this?" Neville asked nervously, likely worrying about being picked as the last one to be paired with. Something Harry had noticed for himself never did much good for someone's self-confidence.

"How about we move the two beds from the third room to the other two, and boys and girls sleep together, like in the dorms at school?" Harry suggested. Of all people, Luna let out a chuckle.

"Funny. I had a very different image in mind when you said sleeping together." She explained. Harry instantly felt his cheeks heat up, and he saw all of the others had similar troubles not being embarrassed. The fact they heard roaring laughter from Sirius coming back out of the room and walking on that comment certainly didn't help matters.

"Oh, I like you." Sirius said once he'd recovered his breath. "Please tell me you're a Gryffindor!"

"Ravenclaw, actually." Luna answered in a dreamy voice. "And unlike you, the Nargles ensured I actually had brains during birth."

Now it was the turn of everyone else, including the remaining Marauders, to laugh as Sirius took on a wounded look.

"She's got you there, Padfoot." Remus said, smirking as he dragged Sirius back into their room. "Frankly, it's a wonder you even made your OWL year."

"And yet Prongs-" Sirius' retort was cut off, as the door slammed closed again, and this time the Marauders didn't come out again after a few seconds.

"Let's get to it." Ginny said, heading for the room next to the Marauders and lifting up one of the beds with a Wingardium Leviosa. "Because I'm tired."

Harry nodded, and he and Neville helped guide Ron and Ginny as they lifted the two beds into the guest rooms, while Luna and Hermione helped get them through the doors with temporary extension charms on the doorways. The girls collapsed them after a few seconds, the spell far above both their years and still too difficult for them for long. But it was enough, and the beds made it into the room. Harry and the others bade the girls goodnight, and then the boys helped put the beds in the right place. In the end, they settled for a style not too dissimilar from their dorm back in Gryffindor tower, with the beds all against the wall, the foots pointed to the centre. Harry collapsed on the one the farthest from any of the doors, sitting up to take off his shoes. Neville sat on the sofa to do the same, while Ron didn't bother to even do that, so tired he fell asleep the moment he briefly lay down on the bed. The characteristic snoring soon followed after.

"Good night, Harry." Neville said, as he lay underneath the blankets of his own bed, and soon fell asleep as well. Harry sighed, wishing he could do the same as well. But he had stuff to do. He knew he could technically also do it tomorrow, but it felt better to him to do it now so they wouldn't have to worry about it later.

First, he put the Prophecy down on the desk, encircling it with his belt so it wouldn't roll off while he slept. He wanted to view it now, but he was too tired to take it in properly, and he knew the others would want to see it too. If anything, Charlus and Fleamont might have some advice on how he should take its contents.

Next, he put his captured wands beside it. Mulciber's, Jugson's, Rabastan's, Rudolphus's, and Nott's. He knew Hermione already had Crabbe's and Neville had laid down Bellatrix's next to the one of his father. He would sort those tomorrow among the othersas well, first thing. The wand chose the wizard, after all, and it was a good idea to have at least one back-up. True, some might not fit any of them properly, but it was worth a try.

Then, he checked to see if he had forgotten anything else. And to his surprise, he did. He felt a slight bump in his lower back under his shirt, and pulled it out. Damn, he'd almost forgotten he'd started carrying his Invisibility Cloak everywhere with him since last Christmas. Sirius had told him to after relating a tale of how he'd once caught his parents snogging behind a statue in an abandoned part of the castle with it after intending to return it with the map for a prank they were supposed to pull. And Sirius had stressed he'd never know when opportunities would come along, and that having the cloak on him would always be handy.

It was for that reason he'd started carrying it and the last object he had with him everywhere he went. He pulled the last thing out of his pant's pocket, and lay the parchment down on the desk, covering the orb and wands with it. Oh, the Marauders would scream in joy if they learned they had access to two cloaks and two Marauder Maps. If only he'd thought of it back in Umbridge's office to give it to Hermione while he Floo'd Kreacher, the mess could have been avoided altogether.

He lay back down on his bed, trying to sleep. But it still eluded him. What did the vision mean? Usually, he only had visions of things happening near Voldemort in the present, when it happened at that exact moment, like with the snake and Ron's father. So why was he having visions of Voldemort's past? Why was he seeing his memories? Another thing to raise with Dorea and Charlus, he was sure. And when he did that, he would make sure to also show the memory itself. Horcruxes. So that might explain how Voldemort survived all these years. It would explain how he could get a new body if he had never truly died in the first place.

But that made him wonder. If one destroyed every single one of his Horcruxes, would one be able to actually kill Voldemort himself? After all, if those anchors are destroyed, there would be nothing tying him to this world.

Harry shot up from his bed. Of course! As they had discussed earlier, they were here to change the course of the bloody war. They had discussed it themselves bare minutes ago. And this was the biggest game changer the war could possibly get. If Charlus saw and realised this, and hunted down and destroyed the Horcruxes with Dumbledore, they could bring the war to an absolute end a whole lot sooner. They had a real chance of winning this! He quickly made his way to the desk and wrote it down on a spare piece of parchment, after making sure he wasn't writing on the map by accident. He didn't want to forget this lapse of momentary brilliance.

Satisfied he'd already established at least some sort of goal for the future, he headed back to bed. And this time, like Ron, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the bed.

---

Well, here's the first chapter. Please, tell me if you like it or not. Reviews are much appreciated.

next stop: Harry relates his plan, meeting the Longbottoms, Gringotts and its surprising revelations regarding the time travelers, Diagon Alley, establishing alibis, and establishing friendships.

until next time

Lucian Valerious