Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter is the sole property of J. K. Rowling.
He lay face down, listening to the silence. He was alone. Nobody was watching, and nobody else was there. He was not sure that he was there himself.
A long time later, or maybe no time at all, it came to him that he must exist, must be more than disembodied thought, because he was lying, definitely lying, on some surface. Therefore he had a sense of touch, and the thing against which he lay existed too.
Almost as soon as he had reached this conclusion, Harry became conscious that he was naked. Convinced as he was of his total solitude, this did not worry him, but it did intrigue him slightly. He wondered whether he would be able to see. In opening them, he discovered that he had eyes.
He lay in a bright mist, though it was not like mist he had ever experienced before. His surroundings were not hidden by cloudy vapor; rather the cloudy vapor had not yet formed into surroundings. The floor on which he lay seemed to be white, neither warm nor cold, but simply there, a flat, blank something on which to be.
He sat up. His body appeared unscathed. He touched his face. He was not wearing glasses anymore.
Then a noise reached him through the unformed nothingness that surrounded him: the small soft thumpings of something that flapped, flailed, and struggled. It was a pitiful noise, yet also slightly indecent. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he was eavesdropping on something furtive, shameful.
For the first time, he wished he were clothed.
Barely had the wish formed in his head than robes appeared a short distance away. He took them and pulled them on. They were soft, clean, and warm. It was extraordinary how they had appeared just like that, the moment he had wanted them...
He stood up, looking around. Was he in some great Room of Requirement? The longer he looked, the more there was to see. A great domed glass roof glittered high above him in sunlight. Perhaps it was a palace. All was hushed and still, except for those odd thumping and whimpering noises coming from somewhere close by in the mist...
Harry turned slowly on the spot, and his surroundings seemed to invent themselves before his eyes. A wide-open space, bright and clean, a hall larger by far than the Great Hall, with that clear domed glass ceiling. It was quite empty. He was the only person there, except for ¨C He recoiled. He had spotted the thing that was making the noises. It had the form of a small, naked child, curled on the ground, its skin raw and rough, flayed-looking, and it lay shuddering under a seat where it had been left, unwanted, stuffed out of sight, struggling for breath.
He was afraid of it. Small and fragile and wounded though it was, he did not want to approach it. Nevertheless he drew slowly nearer, ready to jump back at any moment. Soon he stood near enough to touch it, yet he could not bring himself to do it. He felt like a coward. He ought to comfort it, but it repulsed him.
"You cannot help."
Harry spun around. What looked to be an illusion was behind him. It was himself, behind a swirling, clear forcefield. Only he wore a black coat, and a sword was strapped to his back. His right hand held a staff, and the left held a wand.
"How-"
"I am you, or rather who you would be in a years' time. Unspeakable, working in the Department of Mysteries. I went there to work to find out about that black veil. As it turned out, it only confirms swift death, but I hadn't died. Only come close enough to see purgatory from behind the veil.
"Upon entering, I was granted the knowledge needed to tell you. You can either go forwards, into the afterlife, or you can go back."
"Go… back?" Harry asked the other him.
"Yes, though I must warn you that if you do, you're whole life may have to be compromised."
"Compromised? How so?"
"It depends. Will you go forth, or will you turn back?"
"I'm going back." Harry said with assurance.
"If you go back out of the platform, you will be sent back. A second chance. You will have to sacrifice a portion of your original memories to Voldemort, and you will keep the rest. You will only remember major events that happened at Hogwarts, as well as the schooling you received, and names of those who you met. The rest will return in due time, only coming back to you when you have triggered a certain event. You will receive many gifts, and you may also lose much. I will watch you. Beware the one's bearing-" A hand grabbed the other Harry and pulled him backwards, seemingly into non-existence.
A pull from behind him pulled him backwards as well, and Harry had only one last look of the baby-thing, before it was launched onto a train, and Harry blacked out…
HPFP
Harry awoke, with his eyes closed. He tried to remember what happened, and reconciled the event in which he met with himself…
Sent to the past. Not like a time-turner, but went back in time.
He tried to remember when and what this was, but couldn't seem to recall. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw a smiling red-haired woman, and another child, in a crib with him.
He was a baby. That explained a lot. Memories of part of his childhood came back to him, and he remembered a few things. He couldn't hear quite well, but just enough to catch a few things nurses said.
"...Metamorphmagus, both of them. And being twins, I am surprised at this. We must..."
"Yes, well..."
"...and will allow... Minister... and then…"
"...Green hair, but it turned back into... a dark ebony... one of them also had..."
Harry looked over to the conversation.
"I think the one with messy raven hair and brown eyes will be called Aren, and the other, the one with one green and one red will be Harry."
One green and one red? Harry thought to himself.
"You can leave in a month, after you rehabilitate. We didn't expect this, so it will just have to be..."
HPFP
It was that day. Harry looked expectantly to the calendar. October 31, 1981. Harry crawled over to the door, but was picked up by his mother.
"No, you don't." She said. Harry thrashed in her arms, trying to get free, so he could go.
"Come here." She placed him in a crib with his brother.
Harry grabbed the bars, and attempted to stand, only to fall back down.
After an hour, the door blasted open. Harry screamed, and his red eye started to glow.
Suddenly, Voldemort walked casually inside, and saw Lily Potter. "Out of my way, I am only here for the children." He said in a raspy voice.
"No! No, take me instead!" Lily screamed, but was shoved off to the side, and Harry say Voldemort walk over.
"Time to die... One of you is the one." Voldemort said, and saw Harry's glowing red eye. It inflamed further, and the light got more intense. Voldemort blinked, and pointed his wand.
"Stop, stop it! Avada Kedavra!"He yelled, and the green light hit Harry's forehead, just above his right eye, his red eye. The light only intensified, though, and Harry stood. He pointed his hand to Voldemort, and...
The rest was a blur. Harry just remembered waking up later, Lily Potter holding him in her arms.
Born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...
The dark lord made his move. He had marked Harry Potter as the Boy-Who-Lived.
R&R, that's all I have to say. Thank's for reading!