Chapter 1: We're back!

A/N Boy oh boy, I've returned! I know this is an excessively short work, from like a billion perspectives, and it's likely to be bad, but I decided I might as well publish their returns. I'm not currently sure where to go from here, so I'll likely do a lone chapter with Harry a few days after waking up, in which he'll do something interesting things (!), but I'm not planning on including any other characters. Following that, I'll do a few random perspectives for the train ride, and then Hogwarts has arrived. I'm still in the process of figuring out when they should discover each other's pre-existing knowledge (Any advice is considered!) but I really felt like you guys needed proof I'm alive and working. Truth be told, I've had this finished since the week following the original uploading of the story, but I'd planned on doing multiple things that didn't ever happen.

So here's to me finally getting the ball rolling! I'm hoping on at least four chapters or 16k words by the end of the year. Who's with me? :) One final thing - no more dilly dallying - I'm considering expanding these segments later on, when I can figure out what I want to do with them, but for now I'm just curious as to who you guys want me to expand on the most.

Ginny awoke with a start and gasped not even a moment later. These surroundings were familiar to her. She hadn't been in the Burrow in years. She was back in the room she had grown up living in back before the Burrow had been razed to the ground. She sat up, blinking rapidly in the burning sunlight, and placed her hands behind her for support. Pulling herself into a cross-legged position, she began to think. She remembered the spell the others had been casting.

Yanstra knew. I guess the rift went out of control, sending more than we had bargained for back in time, Ginny's thoughts wandered, but was it just me? I've gotta be careful until I know more. She sat in her bed for a few more moments, before remembering that the entire reason they'd ever had to try such a risky magical procedure was currently sleeping upstairs, in a cage in her brother's room. Knowing this, she decided to make her first attempt at changing the future, hopefully for the better, and set out to do so. Sweeping her legs off the bed, she stood up, and changed into her day clothes.

Percy and her father were sitting down at the table, eating slices of toast and both reading a copy of the Daily Prophet, simultaneously sipping steaming hot cups of darkened, black coffee.

"Good morning, Ginny, dear, could you help me cook breakfast this morning? Merlin knows the boys and your father wouldn't know the first thing about cooking and I'm a bit strapped for time, I'm going out to get Percy some supplies for his fifth year soon and so I need this done soon." Mrs. Weasley said as she hurried around clattering pots and pans and slapping bacon down to cook.

"Sure, mum, I guess. What should I do?"

"Grab some sausage and put it on the stove, please, I'm making pancakes this morning."

Ginny obliged and the two women of the Weasley household cooked breakfast together, before the Weasley matriarch sent Ginny to wake up the rest of the boys and call them down for breakfast.

This gave Ginny a chance to get rid of Peter Pettigrew, after Ron had told her that Peter was the traitor behind Harry's parents' deaths, she'd wished she had killed him when she had the chance. She'd originally been planning on waking up the twins first, but an explosion from their room made it pretty clear that they were already awake and busy breaking things. Quietly, she ascended the flights of steps, making sure to avoid the creaky ones she still remembered, careful to make sure he wouldn't awaken – he was a late sleeper, so she might have a chance at getting Scabbers before Ron could wake up and ask what she was doing. Ginny approached the doorknob and listened closely to make sure he wasn't awake. Though she couldn't hear any snoring from the other side, she didn't hear him moving either. She reached for the doorknob, turning it slowly to make sure it wouldn't squeak, and turned it.

-OoOoOoO-

Ron sat up in bed, blinking his eyes to adjust to the light. Sound filtered up through the Burrow, as well as the unmistakable, glorious smell of frying bacon. He stared around his room – or, his old room that had been plastered with bright orange Chudley Cannons posters. Bloody hell, I haven't seen this place in years. Am I dead? He looked around and focused on one thing – a fat, lethargic rat he remembered acutely from his third year. Acting on impulse, he pushed off of the bed – or at least tried to, getting tangled up in his Chudley Cannon bedspread before falling flat on his face – and, dusting himself off and rubbing his nose, strode straight over to Scabbers. He pulled the rat out of its cage and it woke dimly, lifting its head and sniffing around slowly.

Ron's doorknob squeaked and opened. Ginny took a step in, and their eyes met. For two full seconds, they stared at each other with uncanny expressions on their faces as she drew herself together.

"What're you doing? Haven't you ever heard of privacy, or knocking at the very least?" he snapped, breaking the pregnant silence.

"Err… mum wanted me to come tell you to get down for breakfast," Ginny said quickly. Ron got the impression that Ginny wasn't telling the full truth, hiding something. Surely she wouldn't have come into his room without knocking if all she needed to do was tell him to eat breakfast. Ron, with his first chance dashed, shoved Peter unceremoniously back into the rat's cage, shoved a morsel of food through the bars, and left the room, turning at the door and staring back at the animagus who'd killed his best mate's parents. Next time, you bastard, Ron thought, and he exited to walk the many flights of stairs to where his favorite meal of the day was waiting.

-OoOoOoO-

Hermione awoke sleepily, the sun shining through her thin curtains onto her bed. Her eyes blinked slowly in the peace and quiet of her room, reminding her of what she had had before her witching life began. She realized that the reason she was so reminded of her old, peaceful albeit mildly friendless life was because she was currently lying down, in her bed, in her eleven year old body back in Crawley. The very thought of such a thing had her immediately sitting bolt upright in bed, and going through her checklist of things in dreams, patting herself down and focusing on her five senses.

She stared around at her light blue walls in the dim room, her blankets were soft and her bed seemed normal. Cool air moved through her nose as she breathed in the reassuring smell of her old home, while a gentle breeze floated through the room because of the roof mounted fan humming lightly while spinning slowly. She look at her hands, touched her face. This is most definitely not a dream, and if it is, it must be the most lucid dream I've ever had. Hermione thought, refusing to believe that she had truly gone back in time to her old body. How did this even happen? She thought, thinking back to the last things she remembered before waking up. They had been casting a spell to send back in time, hopefully to prevent Voldemort's return, and then the room had exploded and everything went black.

The now 11 year old girl considered that if she had been sent back in time, what happened to the others? Had they undergone the same teleportation as she had? Had only some of them been sent back in time? Her mind was racing, thinking of all the possibilities that had been opened to her now that she had been sent back, all the things she could change.

The door to her room opened, and her mother's face popped into her room. "Your father and I are leaving for work, honey, there's breakfast in the fridge and you can fix yourself anything if you need a snack later. I left a few books on the dining room table if you want to read them, and the kettle's still hot so you can make yourself some tea."

"Thanks, mum. I'll see you when you get home!" Hermione smiled, she was going to have so much fun changing things up this time around.

-OoOoOoO-

Luna sat up in bed serenely, looking around at her blank circular room. She noticed that her portrait of friends was missing, and deducted the obvious: she'd been sent back in time magically by the explosion that brought the rift out of control. Surely that was the only logical reason for her remembering so many years of schooling?

Xenophilius Lovegood poked his head through the trapdoor leading into her room and climbed up. "Luna, dear, it's time to get out of bed. We're starting our expedition today…" Luna's father said quietly. Luna frowned, remembering that she must be the year before her first year, and then realizing that she had lost her mother not too long ago. Her father still wasn't completely quite over it. That made her sad, remembering seeing her mum's spell backfire, seeing her father holding her mother as she died.

Her father climbed back down the ladder to start making breakfast, and Luna got out of her bed into the dusty room and stared out her large window down to the river. She decided to go fishing before they left on their expedition, to go over the fact that she'd returned to her old life and her new chance at restarting. Who knew what this new chance could hold?

Being her typical serene self, she wasn't perturbed in the slightest, Though her mother had died a year previously in this timeline, it had been many more since then in her own head. Getting dressed, she pulled herself together. She didn't want to worry her dad by acting differently from her usual self.

-OoOoOoO-

Neville jerked awake, as his grandmother rapped sharply on his door. "Neville! Up, out of bed. I've got a meeting with the ladies in an hour and you must make yourself presentable, like a gentleman. You will be serving tea, and afterwards you can tend the greenhouses but for now you can't be seen with dragon dung on your hands. In a couple of hours your potions tutor will be here as well, you should keep that in mind."

"Yes, grandmother, I'm coming." Neville said glumly. He remembered the explosion and all of his other memories, and he realized that he had had friends in his past life. This time around, he made sure to get those friends earlier. This time, he swore to himself, he'd not be such a pushover in his first two years.

Neville got out of his bed and walked through his library-like room into his closet, a rather large room in itself (bigger than even Harry's bedroom, Harry would have probably enjoyed living in Neville's closet for all of its comfortableness.), and organized based on style. On one side, to the left of the door, the Longbottom house-elves had organized his dress clothes in suits, dress robes, and other such clothes. On the far side of the room, facing the door, were his casual clothes, clothes still that were picked by his formidable grandmother. These were the clothes he usually wore in public when with the eldest Longbottom woman. To his right were the clothes his grandmother allowed him to pick for himself, his most comfortable robes and clothes that he could wear around the manor, when there weren't guests. He rarely got to wear them.

Neville dressed himself in dress robes and moved into his study-like room, tiled with wood and covered on one side to the roof with shelves filled with musty books and epics. A desk stood near his bed, covered with paper and with small smears of dirt where Neville had forgotten to wash his hands and occasionally touched the highly polished wood with his dirty hands. The house elves left it alone at Neville's request, and on one end of his room was a large window that went to the roof. It was currently letting in a large amount of sunlight, and below the sunlit area was the greenhouse door, leading straight from his bedroom to the greenhouses which held many rare and exciting plants along with some less exciting ones.

Neville left his room before his grandmother chewed him out for dilly dallying and took his place near the fireplace, waiting to welcome his guardian's friends to the house. He used his time standing there waiting to go over the events leading up to his… what could it be called? Wizards had never coined a term to describe the event he'd just been through. I've gone back in time… Neville thought, what would I call that? Temporal displacement? That'd be what Hermione would call it. Wait. What happened to them? Was I the only one sent back? Neville's face blanched at the thought of having to deal with the memories alone. On the bright side, a little color returned to his face, I can kick Malfoy's ass if he ever decides to mess with me.