Before you start reading this story, I want to ask you a question. What if... Voldemort had opted for just two Horcruxes, and was killed for good in Harry Potter's second year, in the form of Tom Riddle? What if Harry had managed this, yet had arrived after Voldemort had drained Ginny completely? What if Ron hadn't managed to stop Gilderoy Lockhart's charm in time? What if Hermione hadn't had that mirror? What if Hagrid hadn't managed to pull Buckbeak away from Malfoy in time? What if Peter Pettigrew had been discovered by Dumbledore's protection charms the minute he came to Hogwarts? Think about the consequences that would come into place if these questions became reality in Harry Potter's world. And now, now is where my story starts, an alternate universe, so to speak. A Harry Potter very different from the one you thought you knew.
Chapter 1- Changes.
Harry Potter, 15 years old, awoke with a shudder. He'd been having the dream again. The dream that always ended with Ginny Weasley, whiter than chalk, eyes staring at him, yet not seeing. The girl who everyone knew about now. The Hogwart's tragedy. The girl he hadn't managed to save. Harry Potter- The boy who lived. Ginny Weasley- The girl who hadn't. Ginny was always on his mind, one way or another. Harry knew that he would never be able to forgive himself, not for Ginny, not for Hermione, not for Ron. Ron was the reason he was waking up at five in the morning. St Mungo's had just informed him that Ron was awake. After Ron had gone into the year and a half long coma that he had been in since experiencing Lockhart's Obliviate charm, Harry had been waiting for his best friend to wake up. Harry had accepted the knowledge that the St. Mungo's staff had given him. Ron would wake up, with no idea who he was.
One fireplace later, Harry and his Godfather, Sirius Black (who Harry had moved in with after his name had been successfully cleared) arrived at St Mungo's hospital. Impatiently, he queued behind many others. After a man with a kettles for hands, a witch with sparks flying from her nostrils, a wizard with glowing green fingers and around a dozen others had been directed to their respective healers, the blonde witch at the front desk coolly informed him where to find Ron, in the Coma Ward. Feeling idiotic for not guessing this himself, Harry joined another queue for the lifts. Evidently, Harry's messy fringe has done its job. His scar was covered, and the witch obviously had no idea that one of the most famous wizards in history was right in front of her.
The lift journey seemed to take forever, Harry tapping his foot impatiently against the floor, and Sirius trying to calm him. Despite what the healers had informed him, he hoped that Ron could remember something about him. Anything. Even a flicker of recognition would be enough to show Harry that his best friend wasn't gone for good. Fingers crossed, Harry waited.
Finally, he reached the ward. Hurrying to Ron's side, Harry looked down at his best friend. The staff had kept him well fed and washed, as they had promised the hysterical Harry that they would, one and a half years ago. Ron looked just the same, albeit a few inches taller. Harry felt bad that he hadn't visited, but as he was asleep, he has reasoned with himself that the emotional pain he went through seeing his comatose friend was too much to bear. However he had flown to his side the minute he had heard that Ron had awoken. Sirius waited outside with the majority of the Weasley family. Only Molly and Arthur remained by their son's side. Molly smiled weakly at Harry through her flowing tears. Molly didn't blame him at all, which surprised Harry, who blamed himself entirely.
"Ron?" asked Harry, tentatively. Ron looked up at Harry with confused eyes. "That's me, isn't it?" he replied. "I am Ron, aren't I?" Ron asked his best friend, showing no sign of recognition. Harry looked down; forcing tears back from his bright green eyes. "Yes, you are Ron" Harry told him. Ron just nodded, and then looked at him blankly. "Ok, so... Do I know you?" Harry nodded at him, feeling as if he would break apart. "You did, once." Harry told his friend. Ron smiled at him, despite not knowing the messy haired boy in front of him, he felt a connection to him somehow. Vaguely, he did know him, yet he knew not where from. "So, what's your name?" Ron asked Harry. Harry looked at him, still blinking back tears. "I'm Harry" he replied. "Harry Potter". And for the first time in the wizarding world, his name meant nothing at all.