Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. 'Nuff said.

So I submitted my first fanfiction ever (purely for my own enjoyment as my faith in my writing skills has forever been crushed by my former English teacher who grades harsher than anyone. She was also my favorite teacher) and I didn't expect any good response at all. So thank you reviewers. Love you!

Oh, and for future references, I need to know who would be a good match for Hermione and Ron. I had them together for before the time transportation thing, but I really dislike the pairing. Ideas? Also, Harry will not be romantically involved with anyone (unless I change my mind).

I find that a lot of things in the books don't fit in my story and/or I dislike them, so I'll often change things to fit my liking. About 90% of the mistakes I make in reference to the actual books will be deliberate.

Chapter 1: Trip Down Memory Lane

With a gasp of pain, Harry's eyes snapped open, instinct keeping him from screaming as fire coursed through his head. He couldn't scream. He must not scream. He had been locked in his cupboard for a week last time his nightmares had woken the Dursleys. The Dursleys.

A raven-haired teen stood watching his childhood home burn, his mouth set in a grim line. A green skull floated above the house, grinning at him mockingly. Harry knew what the Dark Lord was doing. The bastard was demonstrating his power while killing more of Harry's family. The blood wards had not only protected him. Well, if Voldy expected him to be completely torn up over their deaths and come recklessly chasing after him, he would be sorely disappointed. Sure, he felt something at his family's deaths, but it was mostly guilt. All chances of him being sad for them were dashed at the memories of his childhood. Still, Harry closed his eyes, what a 17th birthday gift.

The pain in his head intensified. Gift.

A Firebolt.

Sirius.

Dementors.

A silver stag.

Prongs.

The transparent shape of his father.

A phoenix's song.

A Basilisk.

Tom Riddle.

Voldemort.

Foreign shapes and emotions invaded Harry's mind, linking to each other, causing a chain reaction of memories. How long he lay there, clutching his head in pain, mouth open in a silent scream, Harry didn't know. As the pain subsided, his eyes slowly opened revealing green eyes that were darkened by a lifetime of sorrow and pain. The small boy drew a shuddering breath. He knew what it felt like to hold a wand, casting advanced spells, although logically he knew he had never produced more than a few sparks. He knew the formulas for advanced potions, knew the school he was about to attend like the back of his hand, knew... what it was like to kill a man. Harry closed his eyes again. He felt the rush of magic flow through his veins, something he had never been aware of before. Eyes shooting open again, he frowned and brought his hand up, palm facing up and easily, as if he had been doing it for years, called his magic and manipulated it to create a small fire in his hand.

Worried eyes turned up to stare at the ceiling, fist clenching, extinguishing the bright flame. What now? How the hell was he suppose to deal with being twelve again? Or having his twenty-five year old's memories and experiences being crammed into his twelve year old's mind, whichever way you want to look at it. He couldn't tell which one it was. Well, one thing was sure, if this was his future, he'd just have to change it.

"BOY!" 'Boy' flinched, touching his still tender head. Vernon. "Get your stuff and get down here if you don't wish for us to just leave you!"

--x

Harry watched as his relatives drove away, laughing at their nephew's absolute stupidity for thinking there was a platform 9 3/4. Just look between 9 and 10. There was obviously no platform there. What was the freak thinking was going to happen? A platform just magically appearing? Oh, wait! Harry thought, rolling his eyes. Stupid, close-minded... Luckily, his thought was cut short by the arrival of a certain group of red-heads. Pausing, he drank up every detail of his adoptive family as they passed, one-by-one through the passageway. Percy, Gred, Forge, and Ron was about to go when Harry pushed forward, attracting the attention of the Weasley mother.

"Excuse--" He was cut off by Mrs. Weasley's warm voice.

"First time at Hogwarts, dear?" She said smiling at him. He nodded quietly. "Ron's new as well. I suppose you want to know how to get onto platform? Well, all you have to do is walk straight at the barrier, and you'll go straight through. Why don't you go before Ron?"

The dark-haired boy thanked her, pushing his trolley toward the brick wall, calmly pushing through it onto platform 9 3/4. A scarlet train greeted him, letting out a shrill whistle in welcome.

As he attempted to lug his trunk onto the train and into a compartment, the twelve-year-old cursed his young (and slightly malnourished) body. Thankfully the next time the trunk slipped, two pairs of freckled hands caught it and helped him hoist it up on the luggage rack.

"Thanks," Harry muttered, wiping his brow and turning to face the people who helped him. Unsurprisingly, Fred and George (he still couldn't tell them apart) grinned back at him.

"No problem. Let us introduce ourselves; I'm Fred and the ugly bloke there is George," The twins held out their hands, and Harry, laughing quietly, took them. His good mood lessened slightly, however, when twin pairs of eyes slid up to glance at his forehead. Said pairs of eyes widened.

"You're Harry Potter!" They exclaimed in awe. Harry smiled wryly.

"Yeah. Harry James Potter. The Boy-Who- Defeated-The-Most-Powerful-Lord-In-A-Century-Yet-Cannot-Get-His-Trunk-Onto-The-Luggage-Rack-Without-Help. That's me," The dark-haired boy muttered, rolling his eyes. The twins laughed.

"Okay, fine, we won't hero worship then," they grinned, "We have to go. See you, Harry!"

Harry's smile gentled as he turned to the window to watch them join their family. Gods, he had missed those two.

A while later, Harry was flipping through his History of Magic textbook to refresh his memory, as it was the only subject he was likely to have trouble in, when a light knock interrupted him. He glanced up and was met wih the sight of yet another red head.

Ron.

His family was coming back together.