My comeback after a whole year? of not posting anything. Major exams are ending, and yet enlistment into the army is impending. Sigh.
I recently started watching Harry Potter again, and with major exams ending I got the inspiration to start off a new story. It's not completely planned out, but this is still one chapter more than the number of chapter I've posted in the past few months (zero).
Whoever actually reads this fanfic, just know I'm a bit rusty in writing AND I'm attempting to write more serious/ darker series instead of my other works which- if you actually pick up- you would know are actually a bit childlike cuz i did write them when i was younger.
I do hope you'll review if this intro has caught your interest. While it does seem like it's the same as other fanfics of time travel and alternate universe and stuff like that, I haven't actually seen one fanfic that focuses on the friendship between Harry and Hermione and Ron AFTER he has travelled through time or through universes.
I'm planning to write this story focusing on character development and relationships between the three of them and some other side characters(which i have not much interest for but would probably include in and make them major. Maybe.)
Do review if you think that this idea is plausible. The characters will be a little OOC? because of the darker tone I feel like taking, but I'll reread the books to get a better feel later on after the last of my major exam papers.
And with sounding way to formal for my own liking out of the way, pls do R&R AND ENJOY THE FIRST CHAPTER even though it 's not much really.
Harry never knew much about the muggle world, despite the first twelve years of his life being spent in it. He had, however, came across one quote while going through the few torn and tattered books that had somehow managed to survive through Dudley's disastrous ownership and unceremoniously dumped on him.
He had rarely managed to read them due to the terribly poor lighting in the closet-or rather, the lack thereof. It was only later when he was shifted to a proper bedroom that he could read. Only in the morning, though.
It had been costly enough to shift him to the tiniest bedroom in the house to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, much less allow him the 'privilege' of having the basic necessities such as lighting.
He snorted softly as his mind drifted back to the past. It hadn't been the happiest years of his life, but it had come close, ironically enough. A wry smile appeared on his weary face as cynical amusement at the thought arose in him.
"It's rare to see a smile on your face, even if it looks like a pretty terrible one," Archie's gruff voice reverberated off the wooden walls of the sparsely filled room.
"Just reminiscing the old days and a particular quote that seem to have surfaced in my mind for the sole purpose of mocking me," Harry sighed. He watched Archie fill two pristine-looking wine glasses with fire whiskey.
"It's rare to see people use such inexpensive materials just to drink fire whiskey," Harry commented as he took the offered glass of fire whiskey from Archie's hand and took a sip. He winced a little as a burning sensation flooded his throat.
"It's top-of-the-grade fire whiskey, shipped all the way from France. It is as inexpensive as that precious wineglass you got there in your hands," Archie snorted and followed took a sip from his own glass. Unlike Harry, he didn't seem to have any trouble with the burning sensations.
"How generous of you."
"It's a special occasion, after all," Archie said. Harry remained silent, observing bubbles emerging to the surface of the thick liquid before bursting.
"'War does not determine who is right, only who is left', "Harry whispered after a few moments of pregnant silence. "When I read it, I didn't understand it at all. Now I do."
Archie stayed silent- there wasn't much he could say anyway. Words would not help to bring back the dead, nor would it help to lessen the burdens he vaguely knew about that weighed on Harry's heart.
It stayed that way for a while- Harry staring drearily at his cup of fire whiskey while Archie patiently waited for Harry to start speaking again, sipping on his cup of fire whiskey frequently.
"I hope it works," a barely audible whisper escaped Harry's mouth.
"It will."
"But at what cost?" Harry sighed darkly, his mood visibly worsening by the second as his thoughts shifted to what he was about to attempt- and the possible consequences it could bring.
"Would it be any worse than the current situation?" Archie asked, though he knew the answer. Harry knew that he did too, and refrained from saying anything, instead choosing to continue brooding silently.
"I fought the war thinking that I would be the one dead, not everyone else," pain laced Harry's voice as he spoke. His face seemed to age a hundred years as those words left his mouth, and the magic in the air seemed to grow heavier- as though Harry's mood alone was riling up the magic.
Archie knew for a fact that that was exactly what was happening.
A hero at twenty years old, one who single-handedly defeated the most terrorising and powerful dark lord in the history of the magical community- and yet here he was, drowning in grief and wallowing in guilt.
While the rest of the magical world celebrated the results of his work, he grieved in the shadows, alone.
Archie didn't bother to try to comfort Harry. He was a man closing to hundred years of age- a century old. He had been through two dark lords- Grindelwald and Voldemort. He had seen many suffer the pain of losing loved ones and knew better than to offer empty words that amounted to nothing in the end.
After a long while, after Harry's mood had lightened up considerably- at least enough for the magic in the air to stop feeling oppressive-, Archie decided to speak up.
"I have no idea how the alternate universe would be like. While I can be ninety percent sure that it would work, there is no certainty that your loved ones would be alive in that universe."
Harry stiffened at the thought, then released a long breath. He leaned his body back onto the comforter.
"At least there is a chance that they are alive," Harry's voice seemed to shiver as he spoke those words.
"There is no guarantee that they will know you. You may not even be alive in that universe. Heck, the war may already be over in that universe."
Silence reigned for another short moment, then Harry's strained voice filled the air.
"As long as they are alive, whether they know me or not, whether the war has ended or not, I will do everything I can to protect them and help them."
Archie sighed and shook his head, wondering why he still trying to dissuade Harry while he knew there was absolutely no chance he was going to get through Harry's stubbornness.
"Are you really willing to go through that pain? Them not knowing you… not even I know which scenario is worse," Archie attempted one last time. Harry shook his head and smiled bitterly.
"Thanks, Archie. I know you're trying to protect me from feeling any more pain. But, I'm not backing down," A flash of steely determination appeared in Harrys' eyes, and Archie saw a little bit of what Harry was in the past.
Before he lost everything he held dear.
"Or perhaps," Archie thought, a small smile started to surface on his face. "What he could be in the future, if they are still alive in that universe."
"Are you ready?" Archie asked after he saw Harry down the last of the expensive fire whiskey in one large gulp. Harry nodded, wincing once again at the burning sensation attacking his throat as he carefully placed the wine glass on the table and stood up. Archie followed suit, and they began to walk towards a door on the right.
While the door itself looked nothing special- wooden like every other door in the house- what it revealed behind it would cause any experienced rune master to faint in sheer shock and terror.
Shapes and patterns danced all across the room- mystical patterns could be seen wriggling around the floor and complicated runes were floating at seemingly random places in the air.
However, any experienced rune master would be able to recognize that all these symbols and patterns weren't merely randomly dumped at their spots. Each and every symbol, pattern and shape- hundreds of them- were placed at specific positions to serve their specific roles.
In short, it was a very complex spell ritual that required hundreds of symbols and runes to work.
Archie had spent his entire life devoted to the study of runes- and considering the fact that he became a rune master at the age of eighteen, his level of understanding in runes at the age of hundred was probably a level that no rune master could even dream of achieving.
Archie had devoted at least eight years into the research and development of this ritual. Initially, he had built this ritual to bring himself to another alternate universe to save his wife from dying in the hands of a death eater, but after eight years, he still had not been able to create a time travelling ritual. Instead, he chanced upon a ritual that could bring people to an alternate universe.
He had already reached the age of ninety five by then, and after eight years of coming to terms with his grief- and the fact that he was already extremely old and could very well pass away in a few years time- he decided that he no longer needed to use the ritual, and left it unused and forgotten.
It had only been two months ago that a weary and tired-looking twenty-year old man had arrived at his doorstep, requesting him to research on a way to bring people back in time that he remembered about the ritual.
Initially, he wanted to reject immediately. Alternate universes were nothing like time travel- the people there could have completely different personalities, could be dead, could be at any age, could even be different genders. There were too many uncertainties involved in it, and yet the man had insisted.
Finally, he relented, and when he found out exactly who the man was, he understood.
It was, after all, no secret that while the war had been won by him, he had lost more than anyone could ever handle. All his friends had died at the hands of the death eaters- one by one throughout the long and bloody war- and in the end, the golden trio had been broken- with only one member remaining.
No one knew how Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley died-two years before the war ended-, but everyone knew that that had been the breaking point for Harry potter.
From the day Hermione granger and Ronald Weasley died, Harry potter became a killing machine. No longer did he have any qualms about killing people. Merciless and cruel, Harry Potter started to slaughter his way through the death eaters through whatever means possible- be it the dark arts or the unforgivables.
In the end, he had won, but it had not brought back the ones he held dear. The revenge he had taken had not filled up the emptiness in his heart. When he ended the war, he found himself alone- no friends were there to celebrate with him, and the magical world feared him for what he had become.
"Step into the middle of the room. I'll do the rest," Archie instructed Harry, who complied and swiftly walked to the centre of the room.
Once Archie saw that Harry was ready, he started to mutter incantations and strings of spells under his breath. The symbols and shapes that filled the room started to glow mystically as magic thrummed across the room.
"Get ready!" Archie shouted over the loud buzzing sounds.
Harry took a deep, shuddering breath and closed his eyes, his heart pounding both in excitement and trepidation. He feared about what he would find in the alternate universe, but at the same time he looked forward to it.
Second chances had always been a rare thing in his life, and the possibility of having one now in the most important area of his life filled his entire being with a determination and strength that he had never felt before.
He took one last look at Archie as he felt himself being pulled away by an unknown force.
"Thank you." His voice full of gratitude and relief. Then, a bright light encapsulated the room for a second, and he was gone.
