Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter One:

The new World

Harry had the feeling he was in a whirlpool, the way he was being shaken and twirled. Then he saw images flashing around him, memories, as if he was in Dumbledore's pensieve once again. Only this time they were only flashes of scenes, without words, instead of a real memory that played something. He gasped as he saw a small boy, no older than four, who looked just like him! He had the same face, the same messy black hair that stuck up at all angels, and, to Harry's astonishment, the same emerald depths and glasses. For a moment Harry thought he was looking at himself, but he quickly noticed none of the surroundings were familiar to him. Suddenly, instead of flashes, the memories seemed to last longer and he heard words being spoken. Taking a good look at the boy, he noticed some slight differences. The boy's cheekbones were slightly higher than his own, he had fuller lips, which were pinker than his, he was slightly paler, and, most noticeable, the boy had no lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. The scene changed again and Harry saw the same boy running into what he guessed was the living room with a piece of paper which he eagerly showed the woman who was sitting in a chair beside the fireplace reading a book. She looked young, in her early twenties and Harry thought she was beautiful. She had long black hair and a kind face, but which also looked a bit aristocratic. It was obvious this was the boy's mother. She looked over the paper the boy had handed her, while said boy stood eagerly beside her. Eventually she put it down and Harry saw a proud smile on her face. She was about to say something when the scene changed again.

There were many scenes that featured mother and son, where she would read him a bedtime story, or walk him home from school while the child was talking enthusiastically about his day, or where they went shopping for clothes, and the boy complained about how long it took and how boring it was which made Harry grin. At school the boy seemed to get on with everyone, but didn't have any particular close friends. Harry was quite astounded that a boy so young would stand up to a bully who was picking on a four-year-old, and managed to stand his ground until a teacher appeared. It was obvious everyone liked him. But through al of these scenes, Harry couldn't help but notice there was never a father. He became very curious as to who these two people were. He noticed they were both magical, for the woman often used magic for house cleaning and other things, and the boy had done some accidental magic as well. Once he heard the mother talking about her job, however, Harry couldn't help the feeling that there wasn't a father. Maybe he was a Muggle and had left when he found out his wife/girlfriend was a witch?

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the next scene begin.

"Mum, can you tell me more about Hogwarts?" The boy asked sleepily. Harry looked up to see the boy curled on his mother's lap with his head against her chest and a blanket around both of them. Looking at the clock on the wall, Harry saw it was almost nine, so the now seven-year-old must be tired. From one of the scenes Harry had learned he was born in 1962, and the memories seemed to go in order with the child growing up. With the way the kid looked, Harry was sure they were related, but he never heard of any other Potter around that time besides his father, his father's parents and his father's dead aunt. Yet he was determined to find out who the kid was.

The woman smiled lovingly at the boy and ran a hand through his hair. Harry felt a tug at his chest as he was forcefully reminded of what he had never had.

"Hogwarts is a school where you learn magic. You'll get a letter in the summer of '73, when you turn eleven." The child snuggled closer to his mother, and Harry had a feeling it wasn't the first time he heard this. "It'll be written on parchment, in emerald ink and in Dumbledore's loopy handwriting. I always love his writing; it's so elegant. But knowing you" fondly she looked down on her son's head "you'd rather hear about the castle hm?" A nod. "Well, Hogwarts is a huge castle, and I promise you you'll get lost the first few times, but you'll get the hang of it. The Great Hall…" Harry listened to what she said, everything so familiar to him. Suddenly he heard a weird noise from outside. His war-trained mind immediately came to alert, and then he saw it: a dark figure moving outside. He suddenly got a bad feeling and looked over to the two people still sitting in the armchair, neither having noticed anything. Suddenly there was a crack and this time both noticed. The woman stood up and placed the child in the chair, but all sleep had vanished from his face, he sat up and there was curiosity on his face. The woman took out a wand and carefully looked out the window.

And Harry knew she had seen it too, the dark figures making their way towards the house. A look of pure terror made her beautiful face and she paled drastically. She turned around, grabbed the child and fled the living room, Harry on her heels. Once she was in the laundry room she set the child down on his feet and grabbed his arms.

"Mum, what's wrong?" he asked, a scared look on his face.

"Harry" Harry got a shocked look on his face at the usage of his own name "remember the scary men I told you about?" The trembling child nodded. "They're here. Remember the secret passage I showed you? Out of the house?" There was a crash that signaled the house had been broken into. The boy, Harry, gave a scared jerk of the head towards the door, but his mother grabbed his chin and forced him to look back at her. " I want you to go through it, and run, run as far away from here as you can! Do you understand me?! She said slightly hysterically. He boy gave another frightened nod and the woman pushed him towards another door, but she herself went back to where they came from. This made the boy hesitate.

"Mum?"

"Just go Harry, now! Everything will be all right, I promise! GO!" and the child went through the door, which apparently led to the garage. He pulled aside a carpet and opened the trap door underneath it. He was about to go in when suddenly there was a pain filled scream from inside the house. The boy gave another frightened jerk with his head. He looked towards the door from which he came and then to the trap door. Apparently making up his mind he slipped back through the door, through the laundry room and made his way to the door that led to the living room. Harry followed. The door hadn't been completely closed, and the child peeked through the gap. He let out a small gasp. Not wanting to see, but still curious Harry peeked through too, and almost let out a gasp of his own. She lay on her side on the floor; blood coming from her body though Harry couldn't see where it came from. There were five Death Eaters standing around her and Harry could hear a few snickering. It made him sick. Voldemort stood near her head and he had obviously been the one torturing her. But he didn't look at all like the snake-like man (if you could call him that) he was used to. In fact, he still looked a lot like Tom Riddle, albeit paler, and with red eyes. Had he already begun making Horcruxes? And then he spoke:

"Perhaps this will show you, Potter. No one can hide from me." He had whispered the last part, but it seemed to vibrate through the entire room. Harry barely had time to think about this new revelation, the fact that the mother and son were both Potters, before the woman spoke back.

"You will never rule, Voldemort. There will always be those who oppose you!"

"Crucio!" And the woman's screams filled the room again. When the curse was lifted she looked up slightly and caught her son's eye, who, Harry noticed, stood there, petrified but trembling, with his mouth slightly open. There was one very clear message in the woman's eyes: RUN.

The boy turned around and headed back to the garage, through the secret passage, and Harry followed, his heart aching when he heard the sniffs and sobs. The boy came out near a hill, and he ran towards it, over it, and he kept running until the village was out of site. Harry knew the boy couldn't look back, because if he did he wouldn't be able to continue. But Harry couldn't keep his curiosity at bay and stole a glance back. He had a good view of it up on the hill. It was a rather large village, but it had a very peaceful air about it. Already he couldn't make out from which house they had come. Suddenly the breath was knocked out of him at the same time realization hit him: his father's dead aunt had died in 1969. James had never known his aunt for she disappeared when he was little over a year old, and she was only found after she was attacked and killed in 1969. And it was 1969 now, in this memory, and Voldemort had called her Potter. This had to be that aunt then.

But there was no record that she ever had a child.

Colors swirled around him, and he lost consciousness.

--

Pain. Pain as he had never felt it before. It seemed to be everywhere. He groaned, but even using his voice hurt. He could hear voices, but he couldn't understand what they where saying. It sounded like background mumbling, and there was no pause in between the words. He opened his eyes slightly and he was met with blinding white light. He quickly closed them again. The voices seemed to get louder now, and suddenly he felt someone pull back an eyelid and he jerked his head away. The person let go and Harry heard footsteps and whispering. Unable to resist, he opened his eyes again. Everything was still white around him, but it didn't seem as bright as before. Everything looked fuzzy because he didn't have his glasses on, but he saw people in lime green robes bustling around him. Then, someone was leaning over him, looking into his eyes. His heart started beating faster, and he wanted to get away from all these strangers. He closed his eyes again, and fell back into unconsciousness.

--

And suddenly he found himself beside the boy again. Lots of thoughts whirled through Harry's head, all centering about the mystery that was the little boy who shared his name; Harry Potter. Or was he, Harry, named after him? How come Harry had never heard of the boy? 'Well, maybe I'll find out.'

He really felt for the boy, as he continued to watch what he had now concluded where the boy's memories of important moments/events. The boy had been found by the police and brought to an orphanage. He wouldn't talk for days, and all the matrons were worried about him. They even brought him to a hospital to find out if anything was seriously wrong, but there was nothing. After a few weeks the boy came out of his shell a bit and started talking to the other kids in the orphanage. He still seemed very on his own though. The matrons thought he was all right now and they send him back to school. But the outgoing, happy and over-active boy Harry had seen in the other memories was gone. He became quiet and shy, and usually only talked when someone talked to him.

Harry thought this must be even tougher for him because now he had no mother to help him. The boy was used to all his mother's attention being centered on him, but now that he lived at the orphanage, and he was better again, most of the matrons' attention was centered on the younger kids. Harry watched as the boy grew up further, and, somehow, he had developed a sweet innocence around him, and it made him positively cute. The kid seemed to go back to his former self more as he defended one of the kids at school from another bully, and stopped children arguing at the orphanage. Again, he got along with everyone, but he didn't have any close friends.

Harry wondered what was going to happen now, the boy was ten and, according to the memory of the attack, he would turn eleven in the summer, which was quickly approaching. But when he saw a sign with the name of the village on it, he had the uneasy feeling he knew what would happen.

And unfortunately he was right. At the end of June, there was a major massacre in the village. Voldemort wanted to show the wizarding world just how much of a threat he really was, and had sent his followers to destroy the Muggle town of Hearthden, where the boy lived. As Harry remembered, having read about the first war with Voldemort, not one inhabitant of the village had survived it. Harry watched with a pain filled heart as the kids in the orphanage where subjected to horrible curses, the worst part being that they couldn't even defend themselves. He watched as Harry, the boy, was subjected to the Cruciates Curse, and the Death Eater torturing him just laughed. When the curse was lifted he could see the pain, and the fear, and the hatred in the boy's eyes as he looked at the robed man. The Death Eater tortured the boy some more and Harry heard incantations he hadn't heard before, and he was sure it was Dark Magic. He balled his fists and he was shaking with rage. How could anyone do that to a child? An innocent child who had done nothing wrong, and had no way to defend himself? Harry saw the Death Eater opening his mouth and he knew what was coming next, he was about to look away when suddenly… the boy disappeared. Harry was taken along with the boy, and he was bewildered when he suddenly found himself in a forest. The memory around him was getting hazy, and Harry suddenly realized the boy was about to fall unconscious. Then everything turned black.

--

Harry woke up. The first thing his mind registered was that he wasn't feeling any pain anymore. In fact, he felt quit comfortable on and under the linen blankets. All the memories came back to him, about the other boy named Harry Potter. He never knew he had another relative… Or had no one ever known of his existence? But still, it seemed too much of a coincidence that an unknown relative had the exact same name as him, didn't it? And while it was all very interesting, why had Harry seen all of it? How did he have access to all these memories of a complete stranger, without lifting a finger? And he was sure he didn't have a link with this person like he had had with Voldemort. And why didn't this other Harry Potter ever come to meet him? Or had he not known they were related? No, that was ridiculous; his photograph had been in the Daily Prophet more times than he cared to count. Or had he known, but just didn't want to associate with his cousin once removed? He felt a pang in his chest as that thought crossed his mind.

He slowly opened his eyes; well aware of what happened the last time he did so. It wasn't bright white anymore; in fact, it was quite dark in the room. Looking outside it seemed like it was early morning. With a sigh Harry took in his surroundings and concluded he was in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Great.

The last thing he remembered before he saw all those weird memories was… he thought hard… going to the Room of Requirement to get some peace and to think and to grieve once again over the loss of his parents and Sirius and Remus. What the hell happened after that, to make him end up in St. Mungo's?

He shifted his body slightly, but something was different. He looked down to find… he was shorter. A lot shorter than he had been in the Room of Requirement! In fact, he was about the same length as when he had been eleven. 'What the hell??' He sat up and looked at his hands, which were smaller too. He felt his face… but his cheekbones seemed to be higher than before… he quickly felt his forehead only to find… there was no scar…

He started to panic. He would have thought that his shrinking was the reason he was in St Mungo's, but his right leg was bandaged up and so was his head. Bruises were littered all over his body. Now he really panicked. He had no memory of this! He looked at the bedside table, but there was no wand. There was no anything! He looked around the room and spotted a mirror hanging on the left wall. With an uncertain glance at his right leg, he got out of bed and limped his way over to the mirror. His mouth dropped when he stared into it. Looking back it him was the boy from the memories, the other Harry Potter.

Suddenly the door opened and Harry jumped. He winced as he landed on both feet and a sharp pain shot up his right leg. He looked up and saw a young woman standing in the doorway looking stunned. Apparently she hadn't expected Harry to be out of bed. Immediately she started fussing over him.

"What are you doing!? Get back in bed! That leg isn't fully healed yet and if you pressure it it while only take longer to heal!" Harry was forcefully reminded of Madam Pomfrey, and she all but dragged him back to his bed.

"Here, drink this." She said, in a much kinder voice. At Harry's questioning look, she answered. "It's a potion for your leg, so it heals quicker. It has been subjected to Dark Magic, so we couldn't heal it in one go." Harry obediently gulped down the potion. It didn't taste as bad as he'd expected.

"What's your name?" he heard her ask hesitantly. "For your file." She quickly added, but Harry could sense she was curious as well. Harry bit his lip. What should he answer?

"Harry Potter." He said, watching closely for her reaction. She raised her eyebrows slightly, but she didn't show any sigh of recognition… how odd…

"What's your name then?" he asked. She smiled at him and answered.

"Amy Reginald. But you can call me Amy. Everyone does." She said with a smile. "I've been taking care of you for the past few days. Changing your sheets, cleaning you up, making you drink those vile potions." She added with a grin, and Harry grinned back.

"How long have I been here then?"

"A couple of days." Harry noticed she avoided mentioning exactly how long. Amy, noticing he noticed, elaborated. "I'm not the one who should answer your questions. That should be your Healer: Benjamin Zeller. I'll tell him you've woken, he'll probably come round somewhere in the afternoon. Now, as for this potion" She picked up another one "it's a dreamless sleep potion. You need to rest, that way you heal faster." He gulped it down and soon he felt himself fast asleep.

--

It was early in the afternoon, and the sleep potion had worn off. Harry pondered the recent happenings.

He'd never heard of any Amy Reginald or Benjamin Zeller. After the whole Battle of Hogwarts, he'd gone to St. Mungo's so they could patch him up a bit. Everyone who worked there had come up to his room to congratulate and to thank him. But there had never been any Amy Reginald or Benjamin Zeller. And the fact that she hadn't recognized his name was also weird. He thought hard on what happened in the Room of Requirement because he had the feeling that was the reason for all of this. And then it hit him: he'd wished he could be with his parents again! See them, and Sirius and Remus again! So that would mean… he had traveled back in time.

But, that didn't fit either, he thought. If he'd gone back in time he would have looked the exact same as he had in his time, after all, he hadn't changed appearance when he went back in time with Hermione's Time Turner had he? And he didn't think people usually shrunk when going to the past. And if he'd just gone into the past, where did all these injuries come from?

No, something much more sinister was going on. He had the feeling he hadn't changed appearance, more like he had changed person. He looked exactly like the other Harry Potter didn't he? He had viewed all this Harry Potter's memories. So, what, had he become someone else entirely?

But had that other person even existed? Harry still had trouble believing no one ever knew Caroline Potter had had a son. For the woman in the memories must have been Caroline Potter, only now had he recognized her from a photograph he had once seen. She was James' dead aunt; her brother, Charlus Potter, was James' father.

There must have been some clue, like the child's bedroom, that pointed in the direction of another Potter. There had to have been something… Yes, Harry was sure there had never been any other Harry Potter in this universe.

Wait a second…

No. Oh hell no. He had waved it off when Luna had talked about it, thinking it was just another one of her crazy imaginary things. But now… What if there were alternate universes? What if… That would explain it. That in this universe, as opposed to his old one, Caroline Potter had a son. And Harry, whishing he could see his family again, was sent here, to this universe to replace the other Harry Potter, so he could meet them? But then, what happened to the Harry Potter in this universe? Caroline's Harry Potter?

So, if his theory was correct, he had gone to an alternate universe, and had gone back in time. Or was this universe just behind in time, and he had just traveled to an alternate universe? Deciding that wasn't important, Harry concentrated on other things. Alternate universes, according to Luna, were mostly the same but with a few small changes. 'Like Caroline Potter having a son or not' he thought. But couldn't small changes lead to big differences? Wasn't that what he'd learned with the Time Turner? He'd just have to keep quiet about the Wizarding World's history, which shouldn't be too hard, because if he now really was Caroline's Harry Potter, and the memories were correct, he didn't know anything about it in the first place. The only thing he knew would definitely be the same was Voldemort.

The only thing he'd have to worry about was what had happened to the other Harry Potter who, he guessed, used to inhabit this body. That thought gave him the creeps.

The door to his room opened and Harry saw a middle-aged man enter. He gave Harry a smile and closed the door. The man was of average height; he had light brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. Harry noticed he was holding Harry's file and a quill. The man was obviously here to get information.

He gave Harry another smile. "Good afternoon, Harry" The man extended his hand and Harry shook it, doing so in a shyly matter. Hey, if he was replacing the other Harry Potter, he should act as the other Harry had done.

"My name is Benjamin Zeller. I've been your Healer for the past four days."

"Nice to meet you sir. And thanks for helping me." He said politely. He pretended to hesitate about the next question. "Sir. I spoke to Amy err… Reginald?" a nod "this morning, and she said I had to ask you my questions. Can I?" Harry finished sweetly. The man nodded with a smile on his face.

"Erm… Well, what happened?"

" First of all Harry, do you know anything about magic?"

"Yes sir. I lived with my mother who was a witch sir, and she said I'm a wizard and she told me all about Hogwarts." He said cutely. The man smiled again.

"Well, that makes my job of explaining a lot easier. You're in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Magic Detectors at the Ministry of Magic had gone off, that someone under the age of eleven had used an unusual amount of magic. People from the Ministry went to investigate and they found you in a forest, badly injured and on the brink of death. They immediately brought you here, and we did everything we could, but there was a moment… a moment where you were dead, I think. Your heart stopped for a short while, and then just began pounding again! I have never heard of anything like it! After that we got you stable, and you've been asleep ever since. Partly because of sleeping potions, but not always. You see, you heal faster when you're asleep." The man finished, and nodded importantly.

But Harry was in a world of his own. So he had been momentarily 'dead' had he? Or… had the other Harry Potter died, and Harry had just taken his place in this body? Choosing to think about this later, because it wasn't the most pleasant subject, he turned back to Healer Zeller, who had started on what potions he had given Harry.

"… and, of course, the Dreamless Sleep potion." Zeller looked contemplative for a while, finally opened his mouth and asked the question Harry had dreaded. Even though it hadn't happened to him personally, it didn't make it much easier to talk about.

"Harry, I need know how you came by these injuries. I need to see if there is any additional Healing that must be done, and I need to know for your file. I'll also have to know some common things, like your name and birth date and things."

"Can we start with those last things then, please?" Harry asked, putting up an irresistible childish façade.

"Well, err… OK, I guess." He opened his file and dipped his quill in a conjured inkbottle.

"What's your full name?"

Harry started. Should he use Harry James, or make up another one? Harry Charlus? Or perhaps Harry, with Caroline's father's name? But what was his name again? Noticing the suspicious stare, he answered what felt right.

"Harry James Potter." Zeller too raised his eyebrows, just like Amy had done. Well, he supposed it was weird, having this total stranger turning up looking just like the Potters, claiming to be one, and having the Potter heir's name as a middle name.

"Aha." He wrote it down in the file. "Can you tell me your parents' names?"

"My mother was Caroline Potter. I-I don't know who my father is." Harry said, lowering his head. It was true. Never once had he seen a potential father in the memories and he never heard a name.

Zeller leaned forward. "Caroline Potter died several years ago." He said in a soft voice.

Harry flinched. He hated how pathetic he acted, but he had to come over convincingly. "I know." he said in a small voice.

"Mister Potter, I was honest with you when I told you what has happened since we found you. Could you be honest with me and tell me more about yourself?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I love mum, and she loved me" he started, not sure where to begin. "We didn't talk about my dad. We were happy with just the two of us, so it didn't really matter. I was always curious though, but mum didn't like talking about him, so I stopped asking about him. When I was seven, scary men in black robes attacked us. Mum told me to go, and run as far away from there as I could. And, I did." Harry didn't notice he was crying and shaking, and he also didn't notice Zeller hanging on every word he said, his face showing nothing but compassion and he swallowed thickly. Everyone knew Caroline Potter had been tortured to death, though no one knew why. Thankfully it only lasted one night and she wasn't taken hostage or something. But to hear a child speak about it, it was just so… sad.

"Then I lived at an orphanage, and it was really hard at first, but. I got used to it. And, almost four years after mum died, those men in black robes returned. The whole village where I lived was being burned, and the men hurt people… they hurt my friends in the orphanage, and I saw them killing them. One of them was hurting me. I don't know, I just… I was so angry and scared, and then I got this feeling as if I was being choked… and then everything was gone. I couldn't hear anyone screaming or pleading, and my eyes weren't watering because of the smoke anymore. I heard a bird chirping though and then… I don't remember anymore." He finished, looking up at Zeller.

He noticed his cheeks were wet and he blushed as he realized he'd been crying. He discreetly dried his face with the blankets. He heard Zeller doing the same. He looked up and saw him waving his wand; everything Harry had said was now in that file.

"That choked feeling you got… you probably Disapparated, meaning you traveled from one place to another within a second. Your fear must have caused that. It is unusual for a child your age to do that kind of accidental magic, and I assume that was what set the Magic Detectors off. You Disapparated to a forest, where you heard the birds, and where we found you."

"May I ask, what village you lived in that was attacked?"

"Hearthden, sir." Zeller obviously started at this. After all, the attack on Hearthden was probably one of the worst attacks Voldemort had ever done, and to have such a young child witness it and live to tell the tale…

"Uhm… I am obligated to ask a few more questions… What is you date of birth?"

Harry hesitated before answering that one too. He decided to go with as much truth as possible. "31 of July, 1962 sir."

He asked a few more questions, but Harry could tell he wasn't really into it anymore. What had happened with his mum and at the orphanage must have shook him. Eventually he got up, took Harry's hand again, gave him another Dreamless Sleep potion and left the room. Harry didn't hesitate to take it in. Seconds later he was peacefully sleeping in his bed, blissfully unaware of the plans that were being made revolving around him.

--

Thank you guys, for waiting so long :D:D. I know this part took really long, but I was sort of out of it, but now I'm back! I've already got a part of the next chapter, so if all goes as planned, that one will be up within two weeks as well (at the most. But I don't want to promise something, and then have something come up meaning I can't fulfill that promise).

I also want to say that this story was inspired by another story here on , which I read a really long time ago. I don't know where I found it or what it was called anymore, so unfortunately I can't tell you. I think we've got about the same basics: Harry going back in time (though in my story, it's an alternate universe), he becomes younger and … OK I almost wrote something that you'll find out in the next chapter, so I quickly backspaced it. I don't really know what else the author wrote in their own story, because I stopped at the Sorting (no offense, but I was really rooting for Harry to go into another House, whose name I shall not name because that will give away where I will be putting Harry. For those of you who do know this other story, and know what I mean, please don't say anything!). So, I'm sorry if the beginning is rather alike, but I have a whole lot of plans for this story that I think (and hope!) the author of the other story doesn't have.

Also, I want to especially thank the website /, because I found loads of information on it (like the names of James' parents and the year James was born- you'll find out in the next chapter!), and I'd like to recommend it to everyone who writes about Harry Potter, because this is SUCH a useful site! I've even found a map of Hogwarts' grounds on it!

I do have one question for my lovely readers: I've read loads of stories where Sirius is the Gryffindor Beater, but is that really true? Or is that just made-up?

Thank you! And… have I mentioned my love for reviews??