Time Record

Written by xmystorytime.

Disclaimer: If I owned these shows I'd never go to school. But since I go to school, I guess it means I don't own it.


Everything was perfect.

She pulled away from the stove, wincing as her back complained from being hunched over too long, and reached for the tea towel to dab away the perspiration on her forehead and neck.

It had been a year since she'd last spent so long in front of it – a year exactly, in fact. It wasn't that she didn't like to cook, but it was hard to stay good-looking when you slaved over cooking. It did mean her scrawny nephew was usually in charge of their meals, but it was a necessary sacrifice. He wasn't cooking today's though, she didn't trust him to do it right.

A glance around the room left her glowing with pride. Ribbons spiralled down from the ceiling and confetti was spread artistically across the floor. She wanted to show her joy but she knew better than to try when it was possible the neighbours were watching. She almost frowned, but then she caught sight of a bright blue balloon. She couldn't be upset; it had been eleven years since she'd been blessed with such a beautiful child.

You see, today was Dudley Dursley's birthday.

The faint thud of footsteps in the room above jerked her from her thoughts. Her husband, Vernon, never took advantage of any opportunity to sleep in, despite rarely getting the chance. He struggled so hard to get the food on their table, but not once did he complain.

Humming the birthday tune to herself, she sat down on a chair next to the classy dining table. She had ten minutes before the third and final cake she'd made finished and then she had to adjust the temperature and cook her baby's favourite meal – pancakes and muffins. Normally she bought them from the shop but today she would make her own.

Thinking about the shopping reminded her she needed to check if they had enough food for tomorrow – it wouldn't do for them to starve. Avoiding a loose ribbon on one balloon, she made her way to the white cupboard and opened it. With a sigh, she realised she'd have to send the brat to the shops again.

They always ran through food quickly in this house. She blamed the nuisance for wasting too much when he cooked.

It wasn't as if the boy had anything to do today, she knew. His silly summer school was closed for the foreseeable future so he had no excuses not to and sending him on an errand would get him out of the house before Dudley's friend came round. As soon as her Dudders had eaten his fill, she and Vernon planned to take him to his birthday treat – the zoo.

Dudley had requested it and she couldn't say no, not when it was his birthday. She didn't know why but she didn't mind; mothers weren't meant to understand their sons. It would hurt but she refused to be an embarrassing mother by holding on too tight.

Her baby would grow into a fine young man and she wouldn't hinder that.

However, the fact they needed food did not change. Shutting the cupboards with a light bang, she spun on her heel and strode out the kitchen. The hallway sparkled at her, not a speck of dust in sight or a hair out of place, and she slowed her pace. It wouldn't do to disturb her beloved son upstairs, after all. She crept to where a handle poked out of the stairs and rapped on the wood next to it twice.

"Boy, get up! I have work for you!" she didn't get a response so she knocked again. "Didn't you hear? I said get up!" But there was still no reply, not even back chatter. She sighed and opened the door. "You dare ignore me? You're an ungrateful -" her rant died when she realised the cupboard was empty.

She scowled. It seemed, at some point, the brat had snuck out. She turned to look at the hanger by the door and, sure enough, the spare set of keys was missing. She slammed the door shut and stormed back into the kitchen. She would find another way to restock the supplies, she usually did, and when that boy dared return she would box his ears and teach him another lesson.

It wouldn't be the first time.

HP/DGM

When he came to, blurry black lines on white pages were the first things he saw. Harry blinked and the words came into focus, so he read the closest line. '… believed to be the reason the Great War began. In 1914…' He sighed and slumped down in the creaky chair, shutting the book with a flick of his wrist.

Oh, you're awake! He didn't bother looking around for the voice – he wouldn't see anyone. Can you believe it? A world war… it's almost impossible to grasp – and just over a decade away as well. I could fight in it! The voice paused. Are you even listening?

"Mhm," he replied, stifling a yawn. "You could have fought in World War One."

Well, if I ever get back. You probably wouldn't be much use in a war though, the voice snickered. Harry rolled his eyes, already knowing what would follow. You're way too scrawny. I guess it's not your fault though, just your relatives for starving and belittling you at every turn –

"Lavi…" Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, I just gotta wait it out. It's only a few more years and besides," he straightened suddenly. "You'll be there right?"

Does it look like I'm going somewhere any time soon? Lavi kept his tone light, but Harry's heart still sank. He didn't think he would be able to cope stuck in someone else's body, unable to move except when the original owner was asleep or some other form of unawareness.

"If only I was born when you were," he pulled his legs up on the chair and then propped his chin on top of his knees. "I could do whatever I like, instead of being stuck with the Dursleys…" Lavi kept trying to convince Harry he was very lucky, even if he was stuck with the Dursley's, because he had a life much better than most people Lavi knew, but Harry didn't believe him.

We should go to class, was all Lavi said. He knew better than to argue.

"Can we?"

Their summer school had been cancelled for a few weeks due to their teacher's wife being sick. Lavi had forced him to attend originally; it was something Harry never would have the courage to do otherwise. He was glad though because it got him out of the house.

No harm in looking. It'll keep you out of the house for longer, anyway. It's Dudley's birthday, remember?

Harry groaned and wished he could forget. He hated this day the most. With a sigh, he got out the chair and looked around. He couldn't see anyone in the nearby aisles and he had a clear path to the door – perfect. He snuck out the library and shivered from the sudden chill. He rubbed his hands up and down his arm and pulled his coat tighter around him.

"I'm glad you made me buy this," he said.

Well, someone needs to look out for you, Lavi replied. Harry hunched his shoulders and tried to ignore the warmth in his cheeks. He crossed the road and made his way down the street. Plus, when you're cold I'm cold so… As if Harry could forget. The only times Lavi could even do something was when Harry was asleep or unconscious and usually he went to the library and read up on history. Harry didn't understand the other's interest in the topic but he wouldn't complain.

It didn't take long to reach their destination. The house was nothing special, identical to the rest of the street. What was unusual was the ground of children stood in the front garden. As Harry got closer, he saw most of them were crying and he tripped, catching himself on the white picket fence and wincing as he got a few splinters.

"Harry!" His antics had caught their attention. He hurried to join the group only to freeze when one of the crying girls, Tasha, threw her arms around his neck. Harry gulped and his arms hung at his sides as he wasn't sure what to do. Realising his awkwardness, Tasha pulled away and sniffed, wiping at her nose with her sleeve.

Grateful she'd let go, Harry turned to the others. "What happened?"

"She's dead," a short and skinny boy, James, answered but kept his gaze on the ground and hands shoved in his pocket. "Teacher's wife, a few days back," he added on, causing a brunette, Rose, to let out another sob and clutch her brother's hand. Harry turned a wide-eyed gaze to the house. On the surface it looked as it always had, and yet…

Well shit…

"Teacher's in there, but he's not…" the quietest child, Mickey, said, following Harry's gaze. "He's packing. He said he was gonna move away."

Harry's chest tightened. Move away? "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice shaky to his own ears. Going to these summer classes was the bright spot in an otherwise awful summer, an excuse to get out of the house and away from his family. "Maybe he's just -"

"He wouldn't say so if it wasn't true!" Daniel, ten years old like Harry, spat, his hands balled into fists.

The front door to the house opened and the group turned to look. Their teacher, an old and balding man, peered out, looked straight at them and then disappeared back into the house. The door remained open, as if inviting. Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and glanced at the girl next to him, Amelia. She looked just as confused as he felt.

I think he wants you to go inside, Lavi said and Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Obviously," he grumbled and then started walking forward. He heard the other children follow his lead and would have smiled if his heart wasn't pounding so fast. He hesitated at the entrance but, with whispered encouragement from Lavi, entered.

Familiar walls that had once been welcoming now only provided an empty comfort. The spirals he and his classmates had decorated the walls in no longer sparkled. Their teacher's wife had been a beautiful woman with a caring smile for all, though, so it made sense. Her death stung deeper than Harry would admit. Hearing movement from the next room, Harry shuffled along before poking his head around the doorframe. He was joined by Amelia, Tasha and Daniel, and they all watched their teacher wander around as if in a daze, pausing in front of photos he passed by.

"Teacher?" Tasha stepped into the room. The old man turned and Harry stepped back, bashing his shoulder on the doorframe in his haste. Eyes usually filled with warmth were now cold and lifeless.

Hey, Harry… Lavi began, his voice sounding strange, but Harry didn't reply. His voice had been stolen by the look in their teacher's eyes. He watched as Tasha threw her arms around the man's waist and began sobbing again, pleading him not to leave. The noise soon drew in the rest of the children and soon everyone except Harry and Daniel were begging for their teacher to stay.

"I don't know why they're bothering," Daniel scowled. "It's not like it'll change his mind."

Harry, Lavi said, sounding urgent, and Harry felt torn. He didn't want to ignore Lavi but… Harry Potter listen to me right now!

On second thoughts, "What?" he hissed, glancing at Daniel but saw the other was too distracted to notice.

You need to get everyone out of there right now.

Harry blinked. That was the last thing he expected. "Why?"

Because I have a feeling that's not your teacher, not anymore, Lavi said and Harry looked back at the old man with a frown. Lavi had never sounded so serious before. He swallowed as he realised their teacher was watching him, ignoring the kids by his feet.

"But… if he's not…?"

I'll explain later, just get everyone out and maybe we'll be okay.

Harry cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention and hid his hands behind his back so they wouldn't see them trembling. "Listen, I think we should leave teacher alone for awhile," he said.

"What? Why?" Amelia asked with a sniffle.

"Uh…" Harry scrambled for a good excuse. "W-we need to let teacher think! It's not good to decide stuff on a whim and…" he lost his momentum at their blank faces. "And I'm sure we've given him a lot to think about so… so we should leave and let him think," he nodded. There was a silence as the other students thought about it, but it was soon broken.

"No," but the raspy voice didn't come from any of the children. Everyone turned to their teacher. "Don't go… don't leave me…"

Yeah, okay, you seriously need to get everyone out right now!

Harry shivered under the lifeless gaze. He wanted to obey Lavi, the person he trusted most in the whole world, but something held him in place. His heart pounded in his ears and his blood had turned to ice. He saw the other children backing away as their teacher started to twitch. Harry's stomach twisted in nausea as he watched the body twist into impossible shapes, deforming itself before his eyes.

Run! Get out!

But Lavi sounded no louder than a whisper as their teacher's skin began to peel off. In the space of a few seconds, a large… thing hovered in the living room, mouth open in a silent scream. Black and white streaks ran down its round, grey body, forcing a face in the middle. Tasha was the first to scream, waking everyone from their trances, but as the other kids fled Harry found he couldn't move. He didn't want to watch the monster turned to him, but he couldn't run because that was still their teacher.

Wasn't it?

Your teacher has been dead since his wife died! Lavi snapped. What's before you now is no more than a weapon meant to kill! Harry sucked in a deep breath and ran out of the house to where the other children stood in the street. A few seconds later, an explosion behind them made him turn and he gasped. Their teacher's house was nothing but ruin and the monster was now making its way towards them.

"What do we do?" he begged of the one person who seemed to know what was going on. "What is that thing?"

There's nothing you can do. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd say Lavi sounded scared. Only an exorcist can stop it – I'm sorry, but this whole town is going to be destroyed. Harry's eyes widened. I want you to run, Harry. As fast as you can. These people are already dead.

"You – you're lying," he said shakily, even as he kept backing away from the monster. "There has to be something we can do!" He may not like Little Whinging, but it was all he'd known. He couldn't let it be destroyed!

Aren't you listening? You need to get out – but Harry refused to listen to Lavi. He halted and then began waving his arms up and down, attracting the monster's attention. Once he was certain he turned and started to run down the street. If he could try and get it out of town, get it away from here… That's not going to work! It'll just kill you and then go back to the town! You stupid boy!

He stumbled, feeling like a knife had just cut through his chest, as he realised Lavi was mad at him. "If I can keep it busy long enough, maybe an exorcist will show up!" he said as he ran through the streets, the monster following him.

The odds of that happening are pretty much nothing!

"Then how do you become one?"

Lavi was silent for a long moment before saying, You can't. Exorcists are chosen by God. You need something called Innocence, and you have none. Despair filled Harry but he kept going, knowing they were nearly at the end of town. He might have had experience in running when he hid from his cousin's gang, but he had never run for so long and so fast.

And then he tripped. Harry run please you need to get up Harry!

He crashed to the floor, his palms and knees stinging from the impact, but getting up again proved harder than he thought. He rolled onto his back and gulped when he saw the monster floating above him. The cannons began to move, all pointing to him.

Don't let it end like this! You can still make it!

All the cannons fired just as Lavi's screaming became indistinguishable. Harry flinched at the loud sounds and waited for the blow that… never came. His eyes snapped open and then his jaw dropped. A large hammer had stopped the bullets, flying everywhere except near Harry. The bullets were some of the biggest he had ever seen and he was torn between gaping at them and gaping at the red head holding the hammer triple his size in front of him without breaking a sweat.

"There's no way I'll let you kill him!" the other said and Harry jerked, recognising that voice. The bullets halted and then Lavi jumped, higher than Harry thought possible. "Your time's up!" He swung the hammer down, crushing the monster, before landing in front of Harry without a scratch.

The monster exploded and Harry cringed, awaiting the effects, but then a warm presence in front of him let him know Lavi was shielding him from any rogue debris. Lavi pulled back when the smoke began to disappear.

For the first time, Harry saw the face of his best friend. Somehow, he wasn't surprised by the eye patch.

"Are you well?" Lavi asked, searching for any injuries. Harry tried to reply but the world was spinning too much for him to do so. His eyes soon fluttered shut and a worried voice called his name, but by then he was already unconscious.

HP/DGM

"We're taking him now and that is the end of it!" Uncle Vernon's shouts were not the best to hear first thing.

"But he hasn't even woken up!" came an unfamiliar voice. Harry's eyes felt heavy but he managed to open them, only to instantly shut them again as he was blinded by the light.

"See? He's up and we're taking him."

There was a hand on his forehead. Harry jumped at the contact, his eyes flying open and then he cringed away from the person peering at his face. "How are you feeling?" the young man with glasses asked, but Harry could only stare. The doctor noticed and frowned. "Mr Potter?" he waved his hand in front of Harry's eyes.

"Y-yes," Harry said with a croaky voice. He pushed away the enquiring hands and looked around the room. He was in a hospital, it seemed. Harry frowned and tried to remember the last thing that happened, but came up with a blank. "Why am I here?" he asked, turning back to the doctor. "I don't remember…" He ignored his scowling family, who were as near to the door as possible whilst being close enough to pretend they actually cared.

"You've received concussion," the nurse pulled back with a sympathetic smile. "You often get temporary amnesia after a hard hit to the head. You'll probably remember in the next few days."

Concussion? "Is that bad?" Harry bit his lip. Lavi would know. He waited for Lavi to reply, but there was silence. "Lavi?" he whispered, ignoring the nurse now explaining what a concussion was. Maybe he should listen but he'd prefer to hear it from someone he trusted. "Lavi?" There was still no reply. His eyes darted around the room, trying not to give away his rapidly increasing heart beat. He clenched the sheets on his bed, knuckles turning white.

"Mr Potter?" the nurse had noticed. "Are you feeling alright?"

"He's not replying," Harry told him, needing an answer as to why. "He always always replies!" his eyes felt impossibly wide and it was hard to breath. He needed Lavi, the first person to care about him.

"… Who does, Mr Potter?" there was a cold hand on Harry's shoulder and he pulled away, hunching into a ball and pulling his bony legs up to his chest. He buried his face in his arms and took several deep breaths to try and calm down. There had to be a reason – Lavi was always about logic, and he wouldn't stay silent without one. Did it have something to do with what Harry couldn't remember?

"There's no way I'll let you kill him!"

Harry snapped his head back up and searched the room. On cue, someone entered through the door – a red head with an eye patch. He sank back against his pillow, sagging in relief and ignoring the nurse's worried calls. He kept his eye son Lavi who meandered his way through the people until he was beside Harry's bed.

"Yo," he said, settling at the end of it. The bed didn't sink beneath him, though. "Remember me?"

"What are you wearing?" Harry asked, noticing the black and white uniform for the first time. He drank in every inch of his friend, from the bandanna across his hair, to eyes a similar colour to his own, to his teenager body.

"Hm? This?" Lavi pinched the uniform before letting go with a grin. "It's my exorcist uniform. Made by some of the smartest guys in history," he added proudly. "Guards against pretty much all attacks."

Exorcist uniform? That meant… "You're an exorcist, then," he murmured and Lavi shifted, avoiding Harry's gaze for a moment. It explained why Lavi was so knowledgeable, though that he hadn't told Harry before hurt a lot. "What happened? Before, with that thing?" Lavi coughed and glanced at the nurse. Harry followed his gaze only to wince as he realised he'd blown their cover.

"Actually, I wish to keep him overnight," the nurse said, turning to Harry's family. "It seems he hit his head harder -"

"Nonsense!" Uncle Vernon said. "He normally does this."

"Yes, he never grew out of having an imaginary friend," Aunt Petunia simpered, leaning forward and lowering her voice like she was revealing a dark secret. "I imagine losing his parents so young mustn't have helped!"

The nurse sighed, looking back at Harry who glanced away. "Very well, though if he shows signs of nausea or the other ones I mentioned I want you to bring him straight back here." His aunt and uncle nodded and then his uncle grabbed hold of Harry's arm and dragged him out of bed, drawing a silent cry of pain from Harry as his arm was twisted.

"Come, boy," his uncle said. "Make sure to say thank you to the helpful nurse."

"Thank you," Harry said, staring at the ground and letting his uncle pull him from the room. The doors swung shut behind them and, after looking around to check the corridor was deserted, his uncle slammed him against the wall.

"I don't know what you think you're doing boy," he spat, spitting over Harry's face, "but I'll not have any of that freakishness in my house, do you hear me? Consider this your last warning!" Harry's eyes widened as Uncle Vernon let go and stormed down the corridor. Aunt Petunia sniffed and followed without a glance back. Harry didn't care, too confused about what his uncle said.

"Freakishness?" Lavi repeated, looking as confused as Harry felt. "What freakishness is that?"

"I dunno," Harry shrugged. Just what kind of freakishness did his uncle think he had?


A/N: This will not be a re-write of the HP series book by book - that'll take too long and there's really no point. This will sort of follow canon... sort of not. Other than that I can't really explain anything more of it without giving away some of the story. If anyone's wondering why Harry doesn't seem IC... well, would he really be the same kid if he'd had Lavi in his head since age 8? I didn't think so.