Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe.
And there was white light.
All around him, the whiteness stretched seemingly forever, not quite solid, but not quite a mist either. Harry stood up. Realizing he was naked, he wished for clothes that appeared suddenly by his feet. He put them on, noticing the fact that he did not need glasses to see in this place.
Where was this place?
It was unbelievably quiet; so peaceful compared to the dangerous and dark forest where he had been only moments before, looking into the end of an enemy wand that had shot a blast of green light into his face...
He was in Kings Cross Station, and Professor Dumbledore was walking towards him. Dressed in a brilliant white so that he nearly blended in with the scenery, the ex Headmaster asked Harry to walk with him. They talked, and Harry took a step back when they saw a small, shrivelled up body lying underneath a bench, making pitiful moaning sounds. Dumbledore told Harry he had a choice; that he could very literally board a train that would take him to his fate... wherever that might be. Should he go back and fight or would he watch peacefully from afar, finally at home with so many loved ones that had been taken from him? He would get to see Remus, Sirius, and his parents...
Of course he knew what he should do. The mere thought of protecting and fighting alongside his friends pulled at his insides like a portkey. But Harry was finally so close to what would have been impossible in the land of the living, and that was to be with the dead. Things seemed slower here, and after what seemed like a long while (which wasn't actually a very long time at all) Harry formed a half completed decision in his mind that he found himself saying aloud to Dumbledore before he could stop himself.
"I want to go back. I have to. But I'm taking some people with me."
"Harry my boy, you know that you could not do that..."
Silence. Of course Harry knew he couldn't bring the dead back with him to the other world, the real one. But it was an appealing thought. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized he wished for it. Dumbledore continued to talk, or maybe he didn't. Whatever he might have said Harry hardly heard him. A train whistle was barely discernible in the distance, and Harry knew he would have to make a solid decision soon. But all he could think of was the impossible option, the impossible fate that never was. Dumbledore lead him to the train before walking away, and Harry might have called out to him for one final goodbye if he hadn't already been so caught up in his own thoughts, and how he felt like he was saying goodbye to a chance to finally be together with his parents, and Sirius and Remus.
He felt the sensation of the train moving, and Harry knew he would soon be gone from this white place, and back into the Forbidden Forest, a hundred enemies waiting for him...
He thought of his parents and their sacrifice and wished they never had to do give up so much; he thought of Wormtail and cursed the traitor for bringing literally all of this about; he thought of Sirius and the cruelly short time they had spent together; and he thought of Remus, who would never even spend half as much time with his own son...
The train was slowing down, or at least the sensation of riding a train was leaving him. The quiet atmosphere of King's Cross was melting away, and Harry felt suddenly very small and tired. He could slowly feel textures on his skin; the side of his face was lying on something rough but warm. His arms were numb from being in an awkward position, and he suddenly realized he was very thirsty. It did not seem as dark as he remembered the forest being, but then perhaps the blindingly white light from King's Cross Station had affected his eyes, though he had not opened them yet. He felt more than heard another being approach him, and when they had crouched down so that Harry could feel their breathe near his face he instinctively tensed.
In the next moment his name was spoken, not harshly, nor with any threat laced behind it. It was just spoken plainly, perhaps even slightly gently, and this surprised Harry so much that his eyes fluttered open.
He came face to face with a woman looking at him somewhat inquisitively, with a small smile tugging at her lips, and with unmistakably large, brilliant green eyes. Harry's eyes.
"Mum?" he asked disbelievingly. At this her smile grew, and she said simply, "Welcome home, Harry."
"I'm not dreaming, am I?" he wondered aloud.
"Well if you are, it seems I'm intruding in your dream, because I'm really here.." said a new voice, and Harry looked up to what could have only been his father, leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets. James was nearly beaming.
"Dad!" Harry shouted, shocked. He only just realized where he was: a house, of some sorts, and it seemed as if he had been asleep on the floor- his face in the carpet- no less.
"Where are we?" asked Harry at large, sitting himself upright and leaning against something which he supposed was a bed. Lily scooted closer to him, and James came and knelt besides the both of them. Harry was too confused and disconcerted to immediately notice that something felt amiss when he shifted position, but he couldn't put his finger on it exactly.
"We are in Godric's Hollow, Harry." Lily informed calmly. At Harry's panicked and bewildered expression, James quickly interjected, "But I think the proper question is more like when are we."
"What do you mean?" Harry searched between his parent's faces, all the while constantly reminding himself that this was some strange dream, no doubt an after effect after his trip to King's Cross. Any second now he would wake up and face the Death Eaters...
"Harry, look at me," Lily spoke softly, as if reading the thoughts swirling through her son's mind at that moment. "Voldemort is not near here. And neither are his Death Eaters. You aren't at Hogwarts, not in the Forbidden Forest..." James looked as if he wanted to say something, but Lily momentarily quelled him with a look.
"Do you remember being in King's Cross Station, talking with Dumbledore?" Harry replied he did, and he could have sworn he heard James muttering about why he hadn't been sent instead...
"Harry, you had the option of boarding two trains, one that would take you back, or one that would..." Lily left that sentence unfinished, and from James' look it seemed like he was relieved she did. "However," she continued, "You somehow did not board either train. At first, when James and I were watching, we thought that maybe a different train would get you to the same destination- back to the living, that is- but it turns out you boarded a completely different one. It was almost as if you called it to come to you."
"I.. don't understand." Harry replied lamely, though a little more at ease from his mother's words. Harry always remembered being comforted by hearing his mother's voice, even if it was just a made up memory. James smiled at him in understanding.
"Understandably so," assured James, "Especially since it's never been done before."
"Before what?" questioned Harry, dazed.
"It's not often that living people come visit the dead, Harry. The white King's Cross Station was the, um, gateway, if you will. Sometimes these living people board a certain train to take them somewhere, but usually they only have one or two options on which train they can get on."
"Usually? But I thought you said that it didn't happen that often.." James and Lily exchanged a smile. He's quick, James seemed to say, and Lily nodded her head in agreement.
"You're right Harry, it is rare for living people to come to the Gateway. Most people go there after they already die, one of the possible trains they could board being the choice to become a ghost- but that's another story." concluded Lily.
"Right," James picked up from where he left off, "So the fact that you, a living person, came to the Gateway, but also chose your own train... it's something truly remarkable."
"And that's why you're here?"
"And that's why we're all here." James confirmed.
"So this is real?" Harry asked again after a few moments. He had a hard time processing everything that he had just been told. James and Lily looked at one another, seemingly having a debating with just a mere look. "You remember what James- your father, said after you asked where we were?"
Harry did. James had said something like 'when were we would have been a better question', and at the time Harry did not think of it much, but now with that back into the puzzle, everything made more sense...
Lily and James had a strange look of pride mixed with delight as they watched their only son's face light up with dawning understanding. Harry jumped up off the floor, racing to the floor length mirror in the room. Sure enough, when Harry looked at his reflection, answers stared him right back in the face, and suddenly now he knew what had felt off when he had moved to sit upright, and why he just felt different as a whole.
It was because he was different- very different, for that matter. He looked about six years old. His glasses were not broken, but in prime condition and actually fit his face. His hair was not dirty and matted, but still messy as if he had an electric shock (which felt quite possible, considering what he was meant to believe). However, most notable about his appearance was the lack of the infamous lightning bolt scar. Harry traced his finger along the skin where it should have been, while remarking, "My scar, it's gone!"
Lily and James came into view of the reflection, standing behind him and bringing their hands onto his shoulders. Harry suddenly had a flashback of staring into the Mirror of Erised.
"It's gone because that night never happened." Lily informed plainly. "In this timeline, Sirius is our Secret Keeper. We are still living in our home in Godric's Hallow, just like how we should have been all these years."
"And Peter?" Harry inquired.
"We stopped talking to the traitor years ago." James told firmly. "We never even told him why, or that we knew he was in leagues with Voldemort and his cronies."
"But, how-"
"Oh, you're seven, by the way," James interrupted, the previous venom in his voice gone completely. Harry's face seemed to change emotion several times before he looked simply aghast, to which James smirked.
"I am not! I'm seventeen,"
"No talking back otherwise I'll ground you!" retorted James, sporting a victorious grin. Lily laughed.
After a few moments of basking in the warmth of the room's atmosphere, Harry resumed his questioning. "So where's Voldemort? If that night never happened, then he's been terrorizing people for the past six years?!"
"The war is still in progress," Lily divulged, "but for the past three years or so it's simmered down quite a lot. Dumbledore suspects that Voldemort is starting his hunt for the prophecy, or that he'll begin to, soon, anyways."
"And does Dumbledore know about... this?" Harry gestured to the three of them in the reflection of the mirror. "No," disclosed Lily, "Only a few individuals are aware of our... circumstances regarding the new timeline."
"But how do you know this?"
"The perks of having been dead." James deadpanned, though another new voice had chimed in as well. Harry turned to the doorway only to see Sirius and Remus hovering just outside, the former grinning madly, while the latter demurely smiled. Harry yelled a greeting before running to the two new figures, earning a bone crushing hug from Sirius. "So you two know! You came back!" Harry repeatedly shouted, all previous worries dissolving away now.
"We came back only because of you, Harry." Remus pointed out, in his calmly spoken way that Harry had somehow grown attached to. Despite keeping a smiling exterior, Harry sensed there was something almost sad about Remus, though, and it didn't take long for him to identify what must be the cause.
"Remus, I'm sorry..." Harry spoke seriously, and suddenly he was not a seven-year-old boy, but the young man who had given his life willingly in the hopes of defeating Voldemort. "Your son, Teddy..."
Who knew what kind of fate this new timeline would bring about? It was safe to say that it was almost impossible for many of the same things to happen again, and Remus obviously knew this.
"There is no need to apologize, Harry, truly. I... would much rather be back and breathing, and hopefully being a beneficial member of our cause, than simply watching from the sidelines, or rather, from above."
"Moony, you're always beneficial, and we won't let you forget that!" James declared adamantly. "That's right!" agreed Lily, and suddenly somehow all five of them congregated into a mass group hug. It was something that should have been so impossible, yet in this moment, Harry realized he had never felt anything more real.
It was something he was looking forward getting used to.
A/N: Hello! Something popped into my head a few days ago urging me to write this. I don't know how far along I will go with writing this because it IS a fairly common time-travel-plot-line... but if I get any feedback (hopefully positive) it will encourage me a lot!
Thanks for reading and please tell me what you think! Another chapter should be up shortly.