So you may be wondering why this chapter has been removed and republished… I got a review pointing out my stupid mistakes and I've gone through and revised the chapter. Thanks so much to swanpride for the crit!
For those of you who read the first version- THIS MAJORLY DIFFERENT THAN THE ORIGINAL!DON'T JUST SKIP IT.
The Time Warp Saga
Harry and Draco get stuck in a paradox. Now they have to re-live their Hogwarts years. Over and over. And over. And---
Warp One
Harry Potter wakes up one morning in the body of his ten-year-old self. This time around, he declares, nobody is going to die! (That's a lot harder than you think, Potter. People shouldn't meddle with time.)
IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: When there is a time skip it can be assumed that during that time something equivalent to canon is happening without major changes. (maybe minor ones, though, considering the way I've screwed up the Golden Trio… into a Quartet… and now…)
Book 2, Chapter 6: Gilderoy Lockhart; Chapter 8: The Deathday Party
Warp 1, Year 2 (part 2), Chapter 7: An Attack
Harry exited the school train casually, quite happy that he wasn't crashing into the Whomping Willow like he was last time. He really didn't need that strike against him in Snape's books— not after how he finished last year, with Gryffindor heroics that obviously reminded the man of Harry's father. He'd been giving him dirty looks and evil stress throughout the entire leaving feast!
Hagrid was yelling, "Firs' years over here!" And the second years didn't seem to know where to go. Most just followed the crowd.
"So…" Ron looked around, "how do second years get to the castle?" Neville shrugged and looked around.
"The carriages," said Harry, pointing to the people boarding the horseless carriages.
They climbed onto the carriages and Ron said, "Brilliant, magic is. Right, Hermione?" He was obviously making reference to Hermione's parents here. She blushed, obviously realizing the exact same thing.
"Lay off," the time-traveller sighed. "I was raised by muggles too, you know."
He didn't reply, but blushed a red darker than his hair. Harry gave him a comforting smile, but also said no more. He pondered instead.
He confirmed that Ginny had the diary when she panicked in the car as they left because she forgot it. Harry considered stealing it from her at the first moment he could, but changed his mind. The basilisk in the Chamber was the best way to destroy Horcruxes. He also considered slipping it to somebody else to open the Chamber, but there were no guarantees that another person would— and if they did there were no guarantees on the effect that it would have on them. He knew that Ginny would be able to move past it, but he couldn't know for sure if the person he slipped it to would.
When they reached the front door, Peeves was bobbing around the entrance cackling a the school tune at them while dropping dungboms on his least favourite students. "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts—"
Everybody rushed by him with their hands covering their head and into the Great Hall. By the time that Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville entered a low buzz of conversation had settled in, which was met by the annoyed looks of Snape. Malfoy was talking particularly loud, telling any Slytherin that would listen about how much he wished the mudbloods would just go and die. Some things never change.
Soon enough, McGonagall and the nervous first years had entered and the buzz turned to absolute silence. The twins were glaring ominously at the poor firsties, making them even more nervous then they already are. "Is that really what we looked like to everybody else last year?" Hermione questioned self-consciously.
"I'm sure you looked even worse," Ron mumbled back. "You were going on about how you knew it all— the whole hall heard. I'm sure everyone was silently laughing at you."
"I told you to lay off her, Ron. What's gotten into you," Harry butt in. "Now be quiet, I want to watch the sorting." He didn't really want to watch the sorting that much, but he couldn't deny that it was interesting. He hadn't seen this year's sorting last time, and it was weird to know where everybody would go.
Colin was sorted into Gryffindor and Harry prepared himself for him when he sat next to him. Luna was sorted into Ravenclaw and Harry wondered about befriending her— she would sure make life a bit more interesting. Ginny was sorted into Gryffindor and she got the loudest cheering out of all the first years, curtsey of Fred and George.
The sorting ended and Dumbledore simply said, "Enjoy," to cue the elves for the food. It appeared and he heard many first years (especially the muggleborns) mutter to each other about how amazing it was.
"Hello, I'm Colin Creevy!" he said excitedly.
"Hullo Colin," Harry said with a friendly smile. "What do you think of Hogwarts so far?"
"It's brilliant! How do they get the ceiling to do that? Is there really a Giant Squid in the lake? What's in the towers? Are they classrooms? What about—"
Harry laughed, "Calm down, Colin! One question at a time. The ceiling is enchanted to look like the sky, like a wizard's version of a sunroof. Yeah, there is a Giant Squid, but I haven't seen it myself. There's lots of different things in the towers… one of them is the Gryffindor Dormitories, another is the Ravenclaw's… one is the Trelawney's classroom…" he listed. "Oh," he added after a moment, "I'm Harry Potter, nice to meet you!"
"Are you really?"
Harry head-desked. Hard. "No," he replied sarcastically. "I was lying. I'm really Nearly Headless Nick."
Hermione slapped his head lightly. "There's no need to be rude about it."
The Mandrakes had just been planted and Harry was walking towards his next class when he was cornered by Lockhart the fist time. "Harry, Harry, Harry," the fraud had said, and Harry wondered what he'd done this time around to get the man on his back. "I was watching you at the feast—" the feast had gone swimmingly in Harry's opinion; he'd managed to get Colin off his back and befriend him in one go, "— and noticed a first year fawning over you."
"Really? Who?" Harry replied dumbly. He wouldn't call was Colin had been going fawning— not when he'd seen Colin really fawning over him the first time. For Colin, this was actually really good!
"That little mousy-haired one. Creevy, was it?"
"Colin?" He had expected that much, but he would stand by what he thought before. This wasn't bad… for Colin, that is. "Colin wasn't fawning."
"Oh, my boy, you don't understand what being famous is like. That was celebrity-worship at its best."
"Right," Harry retorted and turned and began to walk in the other direction, not caring that he was going to be late for Transfiguration.
Ron wasn't having the same trouble as he did last time with his Spellotaped wand, mainly because it wasn't broken this time, and Harry wondered momentarily how Lockhart was going to go out. He knew the curse would get that man in one was or another, and sooner better than later…
He vowed to try his hardest to get rid of Lockhart. Maybe he could recruit Peeves…
The first Defence class didn't go much better either, in Harry's opinion.
"Me," Lockhart began his class arrogantly, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, third class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five time winner—" Harry tuned out the annoying teacher. He, Ron, and Hermione had outdone Lockhart by the time they were twenty— Harry had won the Most-Charming-Smile-Award eight consecutive times, not to mention his first class Order of Merlin and many more achievements.
"Harry Potter, I'm talking to you!" Harry snapped his head up, ready to refuse whatever Professor Ego asked of him. "Where are your textbooks?"
"What textbooks, Professor? All I saw on my list was novels that don't teach anything about Defence Against the Dark Arts."
Lockhart couldn't seem to manage to think up a decent response to this and began to stutter. Finally, he turned to the rest of the class and said, "I thought we'd start today off with a little quiz." The class all moaned in unison. "Nothing to be worried about— just to check if you've read them and how much you've taken in."
He handed out the test papers and said "You have thirty minutes, start now."
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?
Harry sighed and began to write his test, pointing out each question as irrelevant to the subject in as many different sarcastic ways as possible. For example:
Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition to rid the world of evil by marketing his own hair-care products has nothing to do with Defence Against the Dark Arts because most of us students are not able to rid the world of evil like that and have to resort to petty wars and duelling. Which is what this class is about. Moreover, because this ambition was published in a bestselling book, so it can hardly classify as secret.
Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers riffled through them in front of the class. He looked disgusted when he saw Harry's.
"Tut, tut– hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac, and my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair care products, not rid of the world of evil by marketing my own range of hair care products—"
Harry tuned it out carelessly again, not really tuning back in until Lockhart released the pixies. He couldn't help it— he started to laugh. "Pixies," he chocked out. "Pixies aren't even Dark Creatures! Calm down! They're only pixies!"
Lockhart didn't seem to hear what Harry said and cast, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!" This just caused Harry to laugh more. A pixie took Lockhart's wand and threw it out the window. The bell rang and there was a mad rush to the exit. Thinking quick, Harry grabbed onto Hermione's hand and said, "C'mon," to the other two and they managed to get out of the room before Professor Ego asked them to round up the pixies.
Avoiding Lockhart wasn't quite as much of a task as it was the first time around. Because now Colin just saw him as a second year who just happens to be famous— Harry had managed to get to him before people talking about his accomplishments did this time around— an excessive amount of attention wasn't being thrown on Harry like before. Without the attention, the attention-seeker wasn't drawn to him like a bee to honey. He even ignored him in class (to Harry's knowledge, that is. He tended to sleep through DADA.)
Malfoy was being quite inconspicuous compared to last time. The first Gryffindor Quidditch Practice, for one, went without a problem. Malfoy didn't need to buy himself onto the team because he was already on, so the Slytherins had no excuse to take the pitch.
October came quickly and quietly, and before Harry knew it he was invited to Nick's Deathday Party. He didn't really want to go to the party, but he promised anyways— he liked being on Nick's good side.
At seven o'clock Halloween night, Harry, Hermione, and Neville (Ron had skipped out) walked right past the Great Hall and headed towards the dungeons instead.
"Where might you three be going?" and airy voice addressed them from behind. Hermione and Neville spun around sharply to come face-to-face with first-year Luna Lovegood. Harry's response was slower— Luna would never be able to do anything to shock him anymore— and he smiled at her friendlily.
"Hello Luna," he called her by name, even though he wasn't supposed to know it; Luna was the last person that would question somebody for being strange. "We're skipping the feast and going to Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party. Would you like to come?"
"Oh, that would be wonderful," Luna smiled. "Nobody ever invites me anywhere."
"I couldn't imagine why," Harry replied with a smile and without a hint of sarcasm. "Let's hurry; we don't want to be late."
The four walked down into the dungeons and entered the party. It was dreadful. "My dear friends," Nick said to them mournfully, "welcome, welcome… so pleased you could come… and who's this?" he was referring to Luna, obviously.
"I'm Luna Lovegood," she introduced herself. "I'm a Ravenclaw. Nice to meet you." She gave him a friendly smile as they walked into the room. All the castle ghosts were there. "Shall we have a look around?" Luna asked.
"Careful not to walk through anyone," Neville muttered to them nervously as they began to move.
Before they knew it, Luna had wandered off by herself and struck up a conversation with The Grey Lady. Neville and Hermione were sticking close to Harry, though.
"Oh no," Hermione stopped abruptly. "It's Moaning Myrtle. Turn back, turn back—" but her words fell on deaf ears.
"Hello Myrtle," Harry greeted her with a smile. He might as well be kind to Myrtle this time around, right?
Myrtle looked over to him questioningly. "Who're you," she said. "You're just hear to tease me, aren't you?"
Harry grinned, "Oh no, not at all. I just wanted to say Hi! I'm Harry Potter, nice to meet you!"
Myrtle looked at him with a slight acceptance, but the look was cut off by Neville exclaiming loudly, "She haunts a toilet? What kind of ghost haunts a toilet?" Myrtle sniffed.
"Guys, leave Moaning Myrtle alone," Harry ordered them. Myrtle gave him a sulky look. He probably said that a bit wrong.
Peeves zoomed over, "I heard them," he lied. "I heard them talking about you over there!" he pointed to the other side of the room. "They've been saying that you're ugly."
"Ugly?"
"And fat!"
"Fat?" Myrtle looked on the verge of tears. "They were making fun of me!"
Harry cut in, "No! No, we weren't! Peeves is lying!"
Myrtle glared at him now, "Don't think I don't know what people call me behind my back! Fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle!"
"Spotty," the poltergeist added. "You forgot spotty." Myrtle fled, and Peeves gave chase, throwing mouldy peanuts at her.
"Well," Harry groaned. "That went well. C'mon, let's just go see Luna."
So Harry led the two away from the sates of the witnesses and towards Luna and The Grey Lady. When they reached them, Luna was talking about Wackspurts. "Hello Helena," he said, not caring that nobody knew her name.
"How do you know my name?" she questioned suspiciously.
Harry stuttered for a moment and Luna interrupted, "Helena? As in Helena Ravenclaw?"
"Yes, I was. But now I'm just the Grey Lady, watching over my mother's students for her, making sure they're fit to be Ravenclaws…"
Luna looked interested. "Were you as smart as your mum?"
She replied, "I wished that I could be more important than my mother… I wished I was cleverer… I don't think anybody was or ever will be smarter than my mother… what's yours like?"
Luna sighed, "I lost my mother when I was nine. She was an extraordinary witch, but one of her experimental spells went wrong and…" Helena smiled at her comfortingly.
"Enjoying yourselves?" Nick had came up to them and asked. Harry and Luna nodded enthusiastically— even though he dreaded it, it was quite interesting. Though he did wish for a proper alibi for Mrs. Norris's attacks, he was happy he came. Things with Myrtle could've gone better… then he remembered that Myrtle was the reason Mrs. Norris was petrified, not killed. Oops, he realized. When he tried to befriend Myrtle he almost caused the death of Filch's cat. For once in his life, Harry was thankful for Peeves.
"Not a bad turnout," Nick continued, "The Wailing Widow came all the way from Kent… It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go warn the orchestra…" However, the orchestra stopped paying at that moment and every ghost turned to the Headless Hunt as they made their dramatic entrance.
"Nick," Sir Patrick roared, "how are you? Head still hanging in there?"
"Welcome Patrick," Nick said stiffly.
Sir Patrick looked to the four living beings, just spotting them. "Live 'uns!" he exclaimed, giving a jump of astonishment and his head fell off again. The crowd laughed.
"Very amusing," was the reply from the Gryffindor ghost. Harry began to back away. He didn't want to see Nick be made a fool of.
"Nick," he decided to interrupt the two, "the feast is probably ending now, so we should probably be leaving… is that okay?"
The ghost smiled kindly at him, "Yes, that's just fine, Harry, Neville, Hermione, and… Luna, was it?"
Luna nodded and the four waved goodbye as they left.
Neville took a couple deep breaths. "Thanks," he said. "I thought we'd be stuck in there until it was over when Nick came over…"
Harry shrugged, "It was nothing. If we hurry, there might still be pudding," he changed the subject.
"I would like some pudding, but look," she poked her head into the Great Hall as they arrived, "everybody's finishing."
Rip… tear… kill…
"Then let's go to the kitchens!" Hermione gave him one of her famous 'I can't believe you're going to do that, it'd probably against school rules' look "Are you in, Hermione?"
"No," she sniffed. "I'm just going to go to the Feast."
"So hungry… for so long…"
Harry shrugged and began to lead the other two to the kitchens. He reached the painting and explained to them, "You just tickle the pear and," the portrait swung open and revealed the Hogwarts kitchens, "voila!"
A couple nearby elves rushed over. "What can we get you?" they asked excitedly.
"Three puddings, one for each of us."
It was quick, just like Harry remembered. Within a minute, the three were eating their puddings, sitting in chairs. "Great, isn't it," he said in between spoonfuls.
"They're very helpful," Luna agreed.
When they finished their puddings they thanked the elves and left. The Gryffindors walked Luna to her common room (Harry let her lead the way) and then went off to their own.
When they entered they were bombarded by the rest of the house. "Where were you?" Percy scolded. "Mrs. Norris was petrified and nobody knows where you went!"
"We were at Nick's Deathday Party and then we got pudding from the kitchens… hardly a crime."
