When the spinning finally subsided, Harry found himself in the middle of a lush field. It was a sunny day and the clouds were merrily rolling overhead, which was quite a change from the drab overcasts that plagued Britain during the dementors' breeding spree. As he finished inspecting the surroundings, he already knew something was wrong. He was just sending his memories back in time, wasn't he? That should not transport him anywhere physically. He also knew he wasn't actually his younger self, as his body seemed much the same as when he started the ritual - hands and legs looked to be about the same size and, furthermore, he was still wearing the same clothes. His musing was interrupted by the sound of the door being slammed shut behind him. He whirled around and almost did a double take as he finally discovered where he ended up - right in front of the Burrow, just past the garden boundary where the gnomes landed after being thrown out of it. He eventually tore his eyes away from the house itself and looked down at the people that came out of the house.

Standing right in front of the garden wall were the twins - Fred and George, and one of his best friends - Ron. They were all curiously looking straight at him and muttering amongst themselves. He quickly noticed that Ron looked younger - way younger - than he used to. He looked more like he did in their first year. Same went for the twins. At first, in a rush of incoming emotions and memories, he was about to run over and violently hug them, but then he remembered that he still looked as if he was about to graduate. He quickly realized that instead of just his memories being sent back here, he got plopped in whole, body and all. That wasn't supposed to happen! Blood drained out of his face and he tried not to panic, which was a lot harder when he realized he had to start acting fast before the trio behind the garden wall came to investigate.

Harry whirled around once more, and started to slowly walk away, as if he was just another perfectly normal stranger that perfectly normally ended up in a meadow right in front of someone's house and perfectly normally stared at it for a few minutes. His breathing speeded up when he heard the sound of footsteps hurrying to catch up with him. He was about to break into a full-blown run, when he heard the sound of his pre-adolescent best mate's voice.

"Hey, wait up!" - shouted Ron, and Harry was a hair away from disapparating right then and there as far as he possibly could, but he hesitantly turned around his breath hitched when he saw his almost-family up close. The approaching trio's eyes widened and Harry knew right there and then that he should have taken the disapparation route.

"H-Harry?!" - asked one of the twins, and he wasn't really in the mood to discern which one of them it was right that second. Deciding to play the ignorance card for the moment, he tried to smile, which quickly turned into a pained grimace.

"Er, Harry? What Harry?" - he choked out, trying to sound convincing, which obviously he failed miserably at, as the twins quickly countered -

- "Potter. You know.",

- "The Boy-Who-Lived...",

- "Seeker extraordinaire...",

- "Defeater of stuttering professors...",

- "Receiver of the Grand Toilet Seat award...",

- "He's kind of famous.",

- "Yeah. Just a bit."

The time-traveller wasn't extremely happy with the list of achievements they were assigning him right now, though it did reveal that this was likely the summer after the first year, which would be right around when Harry's memories were supposed to end up. Making a mental note to think about this more later, he quickly responded, in the same unconvincing voice and with a really bad attempt at a grin.

"Ah, er, no. I get that a lot, you see, lots of people tell me I look like a Potter. My name is..." - and he stumbled in his speech right there, because, obviously, he didn't have a name prepared for this occasion. "...D-Daniel Bl-White." - he finally stuttered out. He felt himself blush. This was a tragedy.

"Well, "Daniel", is that why you've carved yourself that scar on your forehead?" - he was asked by Ron, who was clearly disbelieving and looking at him through narrowed eyes. Harry winced. Of course. That blasted, bloody scar was doing him in again! He stared like a deer caught in headlights, thinking up possible responses to this, all of which unfortunately involved silly things like "Yeah, I'm his biggest fan!" and even the Dursley version of the truth about being involved in a car crash. After what seemed like eternity to HIM, let alone to the inquisitive trio, he just sighed and put his head down. It was over. There was no escape. Nothing he could've said after that horrible start could convince even a particularly dumb troll. He briefly considered obliviating them, but he wasn't sure how to do it, and didn't want to do it to them anyway.

"Bloody hell, Harry, is that really you?" - Ron queried, and Harry, resigned to his fate, just nodded. He just waited for the questions which should be starting right abou...

- "Ickle Harrykins, would you perhaps mind telling us..." - began the first of the twins,

- "...how you managed to make yourself look..." - added the second,

- "...older than our esteemed Perfect Prefect the Percival the Great?" - finished the first, and the duo grinned at each other.

There was another brief bout of silence, as Harry tried to formulate something that didn't involve time travel, but he started feeling faint and decided it wasn't going to work anyway, so he just shrugged, whilst still having his head down.

"Hey, Dad said you got an underage magic warning a few days ago. Was it some failed spell?"

Harry thought the spell responsible for this situation worked perhaps a tad bit too well, but he just remained quiet.

"No, Ronniekins, that was a hover charm, remember? This must be...",

"...a potion! Did you try to practice to get better grades from the dungeon bat...?"

Harry just snorted here, as no matter what he did in that class, Snape would always have to behave like he loathed him, being a spy and all. Not that he didn't actually loathe him, of course. The trio just took his reaction as a denial and started speculating again.

"I know!" - grinned the left twin, "He's a time traveller!" - and Harry involuntarily quickly raised his head a bit. After inwardly groaning, he congratulated himself on spilling that particular secret, too. Meanwhile, the trio obviously noticed his reaction and widened their eyes.

"Oh wow, really? I was only joking!" - piped up the left twin just as Ron almost shouted,

"Bloody hell, you're from the future?!"

Harry finally looked up fully to see the three looking at him in awe, expecting goodness-knows-what to happen, when he felt he really needed to sit, before his legs just give out, and did so in the fluffy grass. He put his head in his and quietly muttered, "It wasn't supposed to go like this..."

Fred, George and Ron exchanged worried glances at each other and after a moment or two, both twins started to pull Harry up from the ground.

"Come on, let's get you inside..."

Harry considered this and decided it was best to comply, as with how his luck usually went, he was bound to be found in that field by Rita Skeeter, Dumbledore, Fudge and Voldemort at the same time any second now. Besides, since the cat was out of the bag anyway, he figured he would need some help, and his almost-family would surely at least hear him out. He got up and, head low, followed Ron, while being followed by the twins, into the house.

As they entered, they heard Mrs. Weasley shout out.

"Are you done already? I find that frankly hard to believe...",

"Mum, look who we found!" - shouted one of the twins right back, and Molly Weasley was in the room in an instant, seemingly furious.

"Fred, George, what did I tell you about inviting... stran... gers... ?"

Here Harry chanced a look at her and found her staring, mouth slightly open. She seemed to compose herself rather quickly, however.

"Harry? Dear, what happened to you?" She moved closer and lead him to the one of the kitchen chairs, which he gladly sat in, feeling faint again. She started fussing about, inspecting his face, which he got confused about, until he realized he would probably still be sporting all the scars and bruises he got during the final battle and the camping trip from hell. Bloody brilliant. When it looked like he wasn't going to start talking, and he had no intention to at the moment, as he felt a weird lump in his throat seeing his not-quite-mother concerned about him again, Mrs. Weasley turned to her children for an explanation.

- "Well, we just found someone looking at the house from the gnome landing site...",

- "...and then Ron suggested he looked like Harry. Then the stranger started to walk away, so...",

- "...we rushed over. He tried to deny he's him, but we got there in the end."

Molly didn't look very happy at the concept of her children running to inspect a potentially dangerous stranger that was staring at their house, but given the subject matter, she let it slide. She finally let his face go and moved closer to them.

"Well, all right, but what about..." - and she made a waving gesture at the eighteen-year old, obviously intending to ask about his appearance. This time, it was Ron who piped up.

"That's the strangest part! We think he's from the future... he reacted when Fred mentioned that...". Hearing this, Mrs. Weasley frowned.

"Oh, nonsense! You can't go back in time this far, all the ministry's been able to achieve for years is a few hours at best..." - she scoffed. Harry looked up at her with tired eyes and at the look he was sporting, she gasped.

"You mean... But how?" She sat down at a chair next to his, looking quite worried and the others sat down around the kitchen table as well. Harry supposed it was time to start explaining if he had to have any hopes at fulfilling what he tried to come back in time for.

"W-well..." - he started, in a slightly hoarse voice, before he cleared his throat - "...it really wasn't supposed to be like this...", he repeated his own words from five minutes ago, before sighing and continuing when the rest just kept staring. "All I tried to do was send my memories back as far as I could to my younger self. I didn't think I'd actually, er, get sent back whole."

"But, dear, why would you do such a thing?" - asked Mrs. Weasley - "And how? Was this method something that was discovered in the future?"

"Ah, um, well. I don't think so. It was a ritual from a fairly old book, you see."

Molly gasped and started to glare.

"Harry James Potter! Did you know how dangerous rituals are? And most of them are illegal and dark! How could anyone let you do such a thing?!" It wasn't quite the full-blown howler scream yet, but Molly was already getting there. Harry flinched and bowed his head again.

In a flat voice, he responded - "Well, I did it because there was no one to stop me. And illegality? The ministry was pretty much gone at that point, anyway" - he shrugged. This seemed to give Molly pause in her increasing rage, as her next words were much softer.

"What do you mean "no one to stop you"?" - she asked, while obviously starting to get the picture.

"Just what I said. There was no one. Almost everyone that would actually care was dead." - the four assembled sucked in their breaths at that - "Voldemort" - and at this they violently flinched - "was resurrected. After the ministry denied he was back, he gathered up allies and when it was finally revealed he was truly back, there was little anyone could do to stop him from steamrolling Britain like he pleased." Harry looked around. They looked terrified. He sighed.

"So, uh, while I did eventually manage to beat Voldemort," - again, flinch - "a big portion of his allies were still around, while our side was reduced to almost nothing." He bowed his head again, briefly reminiscing about when the reports regarding who lived through the final bout started rolling in. He soon found himself pretty much alone in the world, with no friendly face to turn to. Meanwhile, the Weasleys continued to stay speechless, so after a moment, he resumed.

"Even with Voldemort dead, his Death Eaters rather quickly regrouped and I had to hole myself up somewhere safe." He winced here slightly, as Grimmauld Place 12 wasn't exactly top security at that point, having been pretty much compromised after the adventure in the ministry. However, Harry knew Yaxley, the Death Eater which followed them in there, was dead by that time, and if he understood the Fidelius Charm right, while Yaxley could lead other Death Eaters into the place by hand, he couldn't have actually revealed the location to them as he wasn't one of the secret keepers. This meant that Harry was the only one person left in the world who knew about the place - at least, he thought so. Besides, it was the only option left. He wasn't disturbed during his stay there, so he figured he has been right, but he dreaded a knock on the door every day.

"So while I was there, I spent my free... well, pretty much all the time reading." The Black Library was pretty much the only source of entertainment at the dreary place anyway, bar having shout matches with Walburga Black or discussions with Kreacher. The elf had become decent and stopped muttering incessantly after fulfilling his last master's wish, but he wasn't the most interesting soul to talk to. He did appreciate the elf, as he was his only way to acquire food without risking his own life, but Kreacher's favourite topic of conversation still seemed to be "ways to torture muggles".

"I wasn't hoping to find anything in particular. To be honest, I was quite resigned to my fate at that point... But then..." - Harry looked around again, and this time he noticed Mrs. Weasley was holding back tears. He needed to get this over with quickly. "...Well, I found the book I talked about. When I read what the ritual would do, I imagined my younger self would go to Dumbledore and with the knowledge of the future, the timeline would be changed... So, I went ahead with it. The ritual wasn't difficult to perform, or so it seemed, but... I guess I must've botched something up."

Harry shrugged. "When I arrived here and noticed that the whole thing went wrong, I tried to get away unnoticed, but they already spotted me. And I'm apparently completely unable to make up a story on the spot." He smiled sheepishly, trying to get them to calm down, at least slightly. Ron regained his voice at this point.

"Um... Harry... When you say everyone was dead..." - he gulped, "...do you mean, er, us, too?"

Harry looked away from him and after a second or so, nodded. Good job calming them down, he mentally told himself, but he knew he had to be honest. It wouldn't do to sugar-coat the situation.

"Yes, Ron, when I say everyone, I really do mean everyone. You, Hermione, all your brothers, your parents, Dumbledore, Remus, Sir..." - he stopped there, it wouldn't do to mention his godfather so willy-nilly, even if they wouldn't necessarily connect that name with the supposed mass-murderer. "...er, yes. Everyone." - he finished lamely.

At that point, Molly got out of her seat and moved towards her children. She made no comment, just enveloped them in a hug one by one, eventually including him as well. Harry felt rather awkward being hugged by this woman he knew pretty well, yet which didn't know him pretty much at all at this point in time. He saw her sob a little and remembered what was her boggart; the bodies of her dead children. He knew this would hit her hard, and felt pretty bad, but once again, it wouldn't do to present the situation differently. He moved to comfort her.

"Mrs. Weasley, please. At this point, everything is OK. I tried to send my memories back to fix everything, after all."

Normally, Harry would probably be in an even worse state following the deaths of so many people he knew and loved. He did spend almost a month grieving over them. He once even was about to depart to Forbidden Forest to find the Resurrection Stone, so he could speak to them one last time, but that reminded him of what his parents told him when he used said Stone - to not grieve for the dead, for they are in a better place.

She eventually let go, and started to compose herself. After a while, Ron seemed to realize something and spoke again.

"Er, Harry? Say, you wouldn't happen to know why you're not responding to our mail at the moment?" Recalling this was probably right before second year, he looked at him and nodded, but didn't elaborate as he realized - of course! His younger self would still be at the Dursleys! Suddenly there was a noise and a small, red-haired, freckled girl stepped into the kitchen. She looked around, noticed Harry and briefly looked confused, before blushing and running away. The twins snickered slightly, but didn't comment as they still seemed quite rattled by the revelations Harry just dropped on them. Either way, this triggered a certain memory of this exact thing happening the day he came here.

He recalled that he, the twins and Ron were also made to de-gnome the garden. Was this a coincidence? He decided to ask.

"Ah, er... what is the date, precisely?"

The twins blinked and the one he deemed to be George, said, "4th of August 1992". It was Harry's turn to blink. His younger self should be here already.

"And, er, have you thought of bringing me here?" Everyone looked confused for a second, and Harry wished he phrased that question better, but eventually Mrs. Weasley said, in a slightly strangled voice, "We planned to visit you by Friday if you didn't respond by then".

"Oh" - started Harry, and turned to the twins again, "and, er, you didn't think to sneak out and bring him here using your father's flying car or anything like that?"

The twins looked at each other and then at Ron, and they all smirked slightly, before Fred spoke up, "Well, we were almost ready to depart this morning when..."

"...when their mother caught them in the act." said Mrs. Weasley, suddenly stern, "That's why they were sent to de-gnome the garden. Honestly! You could have crashed! You could have been seen! Did you even think of..." - but then she stopped, confused, "Harry, dear, why are you asking them this? Surely, you wouldn't want them to..."

Meanwhile, Harry was pondering this new information. While he sort of agreed driving a semi-illegal, half-working, Statute of Secrecy-breaking muggle vehicle all the way up to Surrey by two fourteen year olds and a twelve year old was not the best of ideas, he also knew that was how he finally escaped the Durzkaban that year. Furthermore, being essentially starved, he wasn't sure his younger self would even last until Friday.

What really filled him with dread, however, was the fact that this did not happen in his own timeline. The twins and Ron weren't ever caught in the act. If this fact was different, what else could be different? What if his younger self was in a worse state than he was at this point?

Did he not actually go back in time, but landed in some other universe altogether? The rituals to do that were in that book, too. Did he get them confused?

While he was panicking himself into quite a state, the Weasleys looked at him, worried. No one moved for a few moments until Harry got up, walked back, spun on his heel and loudly disapparated, leaving the Weasleys speechless once again.

[Author's note: Hello. It's possible you noticed this story go up a few days ago, just to be taken back down. The reason for this was that after thinking some more about one of the details, I decided it would make things rather awkward later on. The change isn't big, but you likely noticed it.]