Sorry if anyone was trying to read, I ended up editing and replacing each chapter several times cause I kept noticing small errors.
I moved around the chapters to flow better; that second chapter was a measly 2k words, better to fit it into once big one. I went through and changed some stuff around where it would flow better, plus there was some points where someone had supposedly left and then i mentioned them again. Again, its a work in progress. Nothing changed plotwise, it just flows better.
I realize I have been using "Ms" to refer to Rose, rather than the "Miss" that fits her as a young unmarried female. I will work at that going forward. I am also taking some inspiration from "Disorder of the Phoenix" here, one of my favorite time travel stories because it does what many other stories fail to do.
Many time travel stories get so bogged down in politics, and these minute interpersonal relationships that by the time the author has written 100k words, the timeline has only progressed a few weeks, and cramming massive amounts of changes into a short amount of time is poor writing. You see this example all the time in these "Harry is so much smarter than everyone and becomes Lord Potter-Black-Slytherin-blah-blah" and becomes a Goblin Friend, and yadda yadda yadda, and the author makes these massive societal changes in the course of a few months. Part of the reason why the magical society is the way it is, is because it hasn't changed much in hundreds of years.
While I am doing some of that now, the pace will speed up, and time skips will occur.
Also, I write when I am able to, and when I am in the mood. It might take a few days, or even a few weeks before I am in the right mindset, additionally I don't have all that much free time. I can't promise a consistent upload schedule. I work full time and overtime for extra money, so I write when I want to. I tried to capture as many spelling mistakes as I could.
Expect future authors' notes.
Morning found Harry once more sitting in the Headmaster's office, joined by Dumbledore and his female counterpart.
After waking up, Harry had taken another long shower to finish wiping the grime and remains from his battle yesterday off of him. His combat clothes had been cleaned by one of the castle's house elves, along with a normal pair of pants and shirt that had been set aside for him. Breakfast had been delivered by Teeny, the same eager elf that assisted him yesterday.
Once he was done eating and relaxing, Harry had slowly made his way to Dumbledore's office, pondering what he was supposed to do next. As far as he knew, there were no proven stories of someone time-traveling more than twelve hours using a time-turner, let alone going to another timeline.
If the events in this world were the same as his, then he had an incredible opportunity to change the future. He knew where Voldemort was, he knew his strengths and weaknesses, where his Horcruxes were kept, as well as what would've happened at the end of the year.
Which also led to the dilemma of what to do with Barty Crouch Jr., who was still keeping the real Alastor Moody captive. There was absolutely no chance for him to keep Crouch's ruse going, but he would have to determine if he was still in contact with Voldemort while he was at Hogwarts.
There were so many things he would need to take care of, yet he had no resources of his own. He didn't have a home, he didn't have the stockpile of magical books and research that he used to, or a vault full of gold. All he had was knowledge of the future.
As his feet followed the familiar path to Dumbledore's office, Harry began putting together the basis of his plan for the future.
As much as he would love to see Sirius as soon as possible, and broadcast to the world that he was innocent, he couldn't risk spooking Voldemort and Wormtail. Right now, Voldemort should be tethered to the homunculus body he created.
After he began traveling the world to learn magic, Harry had made an effort to at least understand what allowed Voldemort to survive, even if he refused to practice it himself.
From what he could remember from seeing the misshapen baby body on the night of the Third Task, plus what he learned in his travels, Voldemort had created the most basic artificial body possible, formed out of biological material, magic, and his own willpower. He essentially was holding himself together by using his magic to fill in the gaps of the body. This allowed his soul to stay tethered in the physical realm until he could create the full body.
Harry could easily punch through whatever wards were put up around the Riddle house, capture Wormtail, and destroy the body of Voldemort. However, his soul would more than likely slip off again, due to the already weak connection to his body, and then Harry would have no idea where he was.
Additionally, if he started trying to push Sirius's innocence, he might alert Wormtail and Voldemort that he had knowledge about the future. The last thing he needed was for them to change their plans. That wasn't to say that Harry wouldn't be overjoyed to see Sirius, he just wouldn't proclaim to the world the truth of what happened.
Harry was almost one hundred percent sure he could beat Voldemort in a duel. While Voldemort was exponentially more powerful than a normal wizard, so was Harry. Voldemort had traveled the world learning different types of magic, but they mostly boiled down to ways to become immortal, improve his body, or different curses.
While Harry wouldn't deny that Voldemort was a talented wizard, with the fracturing of his soul, he was much more akin to a rampaging bull. His dueling strategy consisted of overwhelming his opponent with an onslaught of curses, standard and esoteric, using his power to simply beat down their shields to kill them.
That was why Dumbledore was commonly touted as the one person Voldemort feared, which wasn't exactly true in the way the public thought. While Dumbledore was not as powerful, he had such a mastery over transfiguration, as well as the knowledge of the spells that Voldemort used, that allowed him to create a stalemate.
It was a rather dangerous game, Dumbledore wielding his magic like rapier to deflect the hammer blows of Voldemort. One slip up would result in his death.
However, it was that resistance that Voldemort feared, not Dumbledore himself. Dumbledore was an obstacle to his plans, an ever present danger that he could be defeated. With high level rational thought no longer truly being present, Dumbledore was a danger because he could affect his plans.
As long as he could maintain the illusion that he came from a different world entirely, and not give Voldemort any reason to change his plans for resurrection, Harry was confident he could beat him. Voldemort has no idea how powerful Harry would be, the spells and theory about magic that he knows. Voldemort would have no way of knowing that Harry knew where every Horcrux was, and that he planned to destroy them all before the night of the Third task.
Eventually Harry had reached the gargoyle guarding the stairs, which sprung aside as he approached. Opening the door, Harry found Rose was already inside and speaking with Dumbledore.
For the next few hours, Harry asked every question he could think of to Rose, who had answered hesitantly at first, which wore away as she realized they had the same experiences from their childhood.
Harry had gone over the events from their first year with the Philosopher's Stone and Quirrell, the Chamber of Secrets in their second year, and the fiasco involving Sirius and the rat in their third.
After that he had moved on to discuss more personal memories, things that he hadn't shared with many people even ten years from now. Chores under Petunia, bullying from Dudley and his gang, the sound of their mother Lily's screaming when near dementors.
All the while, Dumbledore sat quietly in his chair, an unreadable expression on his face as Harry and Rose discussed their shared history.
Overall, the two of them had mostly mirrored experiences. There were some minor differences of course, after all it would be rather strange for people to say that Rose looked like James Potter when she was a girl, and people seemed to compare Rose more to Lily Potter than their father.
The biggest change that Harry noted was the treatment from Vernon and Petunia. When Harry was young, Vernon was the taskmaster, who wasn't above punishing him in his cupboard or withholding food, and the rare time he used a belt. Petunia, while still strict and unwelcoming, mostly pretended he didn't exist unless he had chores to do.
For Rose, the opposite had been true; Petunia was the more cruel of the two Dursleys, with Vernon not being quite so harsh. Dudley and his gang didn't seem to be quite so aggressive towards Rose; while the teachers in primary school may pretend that bullying between two male students didn't exist, it was much harder to ignore a group of males picking on a single girl. The same rang true for Vernon, who wasn't quite so harsh to Rose. While he would still punish Rose by putting her in the cupboard or berating her, he never seemed to have laid a hand on her.
And he never would, Harry had thought darkly as he stared at Rose. If it weren't for the messy black Potter hair, she would almost be a clone of their mother. Here was someone who hadn't been tainted by the horrors of the world, who hadn't been forced to take on the burden of an entire wizarding population because they were too cowardly to take care of it themselves.
Rose met his gaze once more, ducking her head shyly, the faintest hint of red gracing her cheeks her cheeks from his staring.
That does it, Harry decided. He was going to spoil the hell out of Rose, and give her the remainder of her childhood that he never got the chance to experience. She was far too adorable to become mentally scarred.
After what seemed like hours of talking, Harry and Rose reached an end to their discussion.
"Well Mr. Potter, '' Dumbledore said, leaning back in his desk chair. "What do you wish to do now? From what you have said, there seems to be no difference between your world's events and our own."
The deeper meaning of the question went over Rose's head, who kept switching her attention between him and Dumbledore.
"If it's not too much trouble, could I stay here at Hogwarts, at least until I get on my own two feet? What I am wearing is all that was brought with me." Harry said While he could go to Grimmauld Place, it would make it rather difficult to keep an eye on Rose and begin orchestrating events, although he would need to take care of Slytherin's locket
"Of course." Dumbledore agreed happily. "Hogwarts would never turn away a former student in a time of need. I will see that you are provided with some funds to purchase new clothing."
"If you would allow it," Harry said slowly, a plan forming in his mind, "I could assist Moody with teaching. I do have my mastery in Defense, and have been a guest speaker at several magical schools in America and in Europe when I was working for the ICW."
Dumbledore dipped his head, his blue eyes dancing merrily behind his spectacles. "That would be wonderful. While Alastor is certainly a talented wizard, his people skills leave much to be desired."
Harry could see Rose shudder from her place beside him, her head nodding in agreement. If he remembered correctly, Moody/Crouch exposed them to the Unforgivable curses recently.
"Well I think we have kept Rose from her classmates for long enough. I imagine that her fellow students are waiting for her arrival back to hear what we talked about. "Harry said, memories of how rapid gossip spread in the school flowing back.
"Quite so." Dumbledore agreed. "Miss Potter, if you would return to your dorm, I believe myself and Mr. Potter have more to discuss."
Rose muttered out a goodbye, and Harry could detect hints of discontent in her tone. "We will talk later," he said, making sure to catch her eye.
Rose nodded, a small smile appearing on her face before she slipped out the door.
"You intend to tell her." Dumbledore said, his tone carrying a hint of accusation.
"Of course, she deserves to know. After all, it is her future that is being toyed with." Harry replied readily, his green eyes meeting Dumbledore's blue.
Dumbledore ignored the small jab. "She isn't ready to know."
"She isn't ready to know that Voldemort is alive because he tore his soul apart? That he hid pieces of it around the country, and that he can't be stopped unless they are destroyed?" Harry said, heat entering his tone.
Harry could see Dumbledore wince slightly. "I didn't know what Tom had done until I studied his old diary."
"Or how about the prophecy that names her as the only person that can beat Voldemort?" Harry was getting into a rhythm, the past grievances he had with Dumbledore beginning to rear their ugly head. "Or how about the fact that she has a fucking soul fragment attached to her forehead!"
"You lived." Dumbledore gasped out, eyes locked onto the faint line of his scar.
"No, I died. I died following your stupid, idiotic, complicated plan." Harry shot back, anger rising in his chest.
"You won." Dumbledore returned, his own tone gaining heat.
"No, everybody lost. More students died in the second war than adults. Forty percent of the student population above fifth year died. Another twenty percent were injured permanently. The biggest battle was fought on Hogwarts soil."
Harry was getting truly angry, all the losses from the past rearing back up inside his mind.
"You think that Voldemort just waited around for us to have an ultimate showdown? Dozens of muggleborn children and their families were killed or sent to 'camps' so they wouldn't taint purebloods! Entire families disappeared overnight!"
"And I was too busy chasing your damn breadcrumb trail to stop any of it!" Harry yelled out, his magic beginning to flair up.
"I didn't think that-" Dumbledore began, pain filling his tone.
"Well you died! Okay Albus? You died. You left this big mess to a bunch of students, because you didn't share what was really happening with anyone, and then you fucking died to a stupid curse." Harry said, his tone shifting from angry to weary by the end.
"Hogwarts was taken over. You were gone, so what was stopping Voldemort and his dogs? He put Death Eaters in as teachers. Students were getting tortured. There were no lines to write, or cauldrons to scrub. They tossed the Cruciatus around like it was candy. The only people that were safe were the children of his followers."
Fawkes trilled softly from his perch in the corner, the notes filling the room, diffusing the storm that was building up.
Harry sat back down, only just realizing he had stood up. He slumped slightly in his chair, feeling all the anger and grief flow out, leaving him empty. "I'm not gonna let any of that happen again."
Dumbledore sat silently, his hands clenched tightly together in front of him, his age truly showing on his face. "I'm sorry." He finally said, and Harry could hear the sorrow in his voice. "I just wanted to spare you and her the burden of that knowledge. To give you a chance to have a childhood."
"We were never going to have a childhood, not while Voldemort was still alive."
And that was the truth; Voldemort was far too mentally gone to ignore the prophecy and make a logical plan to conquer wizarding Britain. As long as Harry, or Rose, was still alive, he would be hyper fixated on killing them. His ego and own fear of death by prophecy wouldn't allow him to leave them alone.
"The discrimination, and the fighting didn't end after Voldemort died, as I'm sure you can guess." Harry said. "People didn't all of a sudden decide to treat everybody else like real human beings, and to stop committing crimes."
The only difference between how things were before Voldemort fell and after, was how brazen they were. Under Voldemort's short regime, purebloods and his Death Eaters ran roughshod over anyone, who were too afraid of a response. After the first war, the Death Eaters that weren't caught red handed were able to claim the Imperius curse, and slip away. The laws never changed, the pureblood families still held significant sway.
This remained the same even after the second war. Muggleborns were still discriminated against, and many of the same people were still in power in the Wizenmagot, preventing better laws from being passed. Sure, some laws about discrimination were pushed through in the restructuring after the war, but they were rarely enforced. Even the wizarding public, who had cowered for months while Voldemort was alive, seemed to just pretend the second wizarding war hadn't happened.
"But you plan to change this."
"I know where all of his Horcruxes are, and only one will provide some difficulty in destroying." Harry said resolutely. The only item that would be hard to destroy was Hufflepuff's cup, and Harry would rather not get Rose banned from Gringotts like he was. "And if I eliminate some of the biggest obstacles towards improving life, then so be it."
"And you believe you can beat him?" Dumbledore asked, his gaze steady as he stared at Harry.
"Completely. I know how he fights, and he has no idea what I can do." Harry said firmly. "He will underestimate me, and I will prepare the battleground. As soon as he regains his body, I will destroy him."
"How does Tom regain his body?" Dumbledore asked, the weariness fading away from his voice as his intellectual curiosity was piqued.
"Well I'm not too sure how the ritual worked, but it probably has something to do with Barty Crouch Jr. faking his death in Azkaban and impersonating Alastor Moody as the Defense professor to enter Rose in the tournament." Harry mused, watching Dumbledore's eyes widening in shock.
Harry enjoyed the stunned silence that came from Dumbledore; he had been on the receiving end of Dumbledore revealing information too many times to not enjoy being the one that knew everything.
"Come again?"
His discussion with Dumbledore ended up dragging on for another hour, as he got over the revelation that a Death Eater was impersonating a longtime friend of his to assist Harry in creating a plan of action.
Initially after Voldemort was finally killed, Harry had transitioned from grief to anger at Dumbledore. The more he thought about how the events at Hogwarts had happened, such as the Philosopher's stone or the trips to destroy Voldemort's horcruxes, the more he realized Dumbledore had been testing him. Laying breadcrumbs in front of him for him to follow.
He had been filled with so much anger when he realized it, his still out of control magic was lashing out at the rooms around him, acting like a hurricane in his anger. Objects were thrown around the room, furrows carved into the walls with every angry slash of his hand, sparks jumping from his skin, the almost oppressive feeling of standing in the eye of a storm around him.
The rage had taken weeks to leave him, as more rational thought regained its claim on him. Several long conversations with Hermione, Fleur, and the ever eccentric Luna Lovegood had doused his anger, as rage transitioned to somewhat resentful understanding.
Dumbledore was not infallible, he was not all knowing. Many of the events that happened, as is the usual with magic, were out of his control. While Dumbledore is an extremely talented wizard, as well as being very politically connected, he wasn't an omnipotent puppet-master, tugging along Harry's strings to mold a perfect tool. Dumbledore did not make Lucius Malfoy put a Horcrux in Ginny Weasleys' school supplies, he did not make Barty Crouch Jr. put his name in the Goblet of Fire, but he did have a hand in some of the other events at Hogwarts
It had taken multiple tense and angry conversations with Dumbledore's portrait, which had been stored in Grimmauld Place while the Headmaster's office was being rebuilt with Hogwarts, for Harry to come partially to terms with his rage.
The problem, Harry had realized, was that Dumbledore had been the leading figure in the British Wizarding World for decades. He had gotten so used to being the person with the plan, the one making the decisions behind the scene, even the leader of the resistance against Voldemort, that he could not realize that others may have been able to help.
For so long, all of wizarding Britain looked to Dumbledore for answers anytime something went wrong. Eventually, he had become accustomed to always being the person in charge, the person holding all the cards and information, to nudge pieces along to appease the public and accomplish goals, that he was unable to picture a scenario where others would perform the necessary actions. It was a manipulative method, but a necessary one.
Harry's anger had eventually abated mostly, yet a small spark would likely forever remain. Harry couldn't help but think of how the war would have turned out if Dumbledore had been more trusting, more open with information. It had taken months of following a breadcrumb trail of cryptic clues for him to reveal the horcruxes, and even then, when he died, Harry had no idea where to look.
Him, Hermione, and Ron had been extremely lucky in the horcrux hunt. If Voldemort had been even partially rational when hiding them, they never would have found them and he would have been free to take over Britain.
This anger came roaring back now that he was face to face with Dumbledore, Snape, and that stupid goblet.
His fourth year was the year that Harry truly lost his childhood. He was forced to fight in a death tournament, he watched Cedric die in front of him, because of him, and he had to watch as his nightmare came to life again. Almost every single bad event that occurred past his fourth year could be attributed to the Triwizard tournament allowing Voldemort to get his body back.
He would be damned if he let Rose, and the other people he cared about in his own world, go through the same horrors he did. He swore he would burn wizarding Britain to the ground in fiendfyre before allowing them to suffer like he did. All the bad things that happened came from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, not just what happened during the war, but in the years after.
Those green eyes, the same ones he saw in the mirror every morning, still filled with naive hope for the world, excitement for learning magic and being at Hogwarts shining through. The eyes that had yet to dull, watching their godfather, one of the only living ties to their parents, pass through the Veil of Death, the same eyes watching resignedly as they willingly let themselves be hit by a Killing Curse.
Holding Hermione as she screamed in her sleep, his fingers tracing the "mudblood" scar etched in her arm by Bellatrix Lestrange. Wiping away her tears as she cried, an orphan with still living parents, who didn't remember having a daughter, the memory charms unable to be reversed.
Taking care of a crying Teddy Lupin, his hair changing colors as he bawled, while an unkempt Andromeda stared blankly at the wall, in a now empty household, a pair of wands clenched tightly in her hands along with a cracked picture frame.
Watching George Weasley stare at a mirror of his face in a funeral casket, hearing the wails of Molly Weasley as she was supported by a scarred Bill Weasley.
Diagon Alley was a shell of its former self, barely containing a quarter of the stores it boasted five years prior. Hogwart's student population was at the lowest point in six hundred years, with many students transferred by their families that fled. For the students that stayed, the scars left by the year were not easily healed.
That was the end result of Voldemort's rampage. Dozens of muggleborns and their families had been tortured, killed, or sent to the Ministry's "relocation" camps, where they were housed like animals. Shops owned by non purebloods were looted and destroyed, the others boarded up their storefronts and left. By the end of Harry's seventh year, almost forty percent of the wizarding population had either been killed or fled the country, and it was never a large population to begin with. The families that fled took refuge in other European countries, whose governments assisted in placing them. Harry had learned from Fleur's father that the French ministry had provided asylum for over three hundred British wizarding families.
All these events, and dozens more, could be laid directly at the feet of Voldemort and his followers. And he now had the unique opportunity to prevent any of it from ever happening. To cut out the cancer in wizarding Britain, the disease that had slowly been poisoning it for decades.
The first key problem, after Dumbledore composed himself from the shock, was how to deal with Barty Crouch Jr. impersonating Alastor Moody. The main issue with that stemmed from how Crouch's plans with Voldemort were laid out. They didn't know if he was in constant contact with Voldemort or not.
They had eventually settled on capturing Crouch Jr. and interrogating him for what he knew. Harry had remembered how his Crouch Sr. had kept Barty under the imperius for almost a decade, which was sure to deteriorate his mental state, as well as the damage from his stay in Azkaban. They decided to simply overwhelm him, and use veritaserum from Snape's stores to pull what they needed from him. Dumbledore was more than talented in the mind arts to erase any memories needed, if Crouch had yet to receive his instructions. Neither of them could tolerate keeping up Crouch Jr.'s deception, forcing Moody to be trapped for several months.
They would snatch Crouch Jr. later that night, after the majority of students had gone to sleep, to prevent any possible interference.
Until then, Harry had over twelve hours to settle himself in this new world. A house elf had brought Harry a bag of galleons at Dumbledore's request, for him to purchase clothes and other necessities, as he was still wearing the clothes he arrived in.
There was very little concrete magical research involving time travel outside of research on Time-Turners. That didn't take into account the elements of the ritual that played into Harry being sent, so for the foreseeable future, Harry was stuck in this world, and resolved to make the most of it.
Nightfall found Harry once more in Dumbledore's office, wearing his combat robes again. He had made a trip to Diagon Alley, under glamour, and purchased several sets of clothes and essentials, using funds provided to him by the headmaster.
The only difference from this morning was there was now an unconscious Death Eater bound to a chair in the center of the room.
It was remarkably easy to capture Barty Crouch Jr., taking hardly more than ten minutes. They summoned him to the office on the guise of discussing differences within Harry's world and theirs, and both wizards simply stunned him. Crouch may have Moody's magical eye, but he didn't possess anywhere near the training, reflexes, or magical strength to fight either Harry or Dumbledore, let alone both at the same time, especially with the element of surprise.
After that it was a simple matter of waiting for the polyjuice to fade, and using veritaserum to find out his plans. The real Moody was now being cared for by Madam Pomfrey, who had been let in on what was happening so she wasn't wondering why Moody was all of a sudden showing signs of being magically restrained and basically starved for a month.
All Harry remembered from his year was that Crouch Jr. had been impersonating Moody, and his goal was for Harry to touch the cup at the end of the third task. To do that, Crouch had tried to assist Harry whenever possible so he could make it to the final task. He had no background knowledge of anything he had done, and Fudge had his soul sucked out before any questions could be asked.
Overall, that was largely the orders that Voldemort had given him; enter Harry, or Rose in the case, into the tournament, and do whatever it takes for her to win the Tournament and touch the cup at the end. Hinting that Harry should use his broom for the first task, the hint about gillyweed given to Neville, and interfering with Krum during the third task were all Crouch's own doing.
Another boon was that Crouch was only to report to Voldemort in an absolute emergency. However, Voldemort was expecting Crouch to report on Harry's potential and magical skill. Harry assumed Voldemort was considering if he would be an obstacle, or perhaps use him in his ritual.
During his trip in the free time he had, he had mentally put together a rough plan for destroying Voldemort's horcruxes.
The diadem in the Room of Requirement would be the easiest, followed by the locket in Grimmauld Place. Harry would make sure to go after the ring without Dumbledore, to prevent him from being cursed once more, the temptation of the Resurrection Stone being too much for him to ignore.
By this point, Voldemort had created another horcrux using his familiar Nagini to host the piece of soul, using the murder of Bertha Jorkins as a catalyst. Killing Nagini would most likely happen the same night of the ritual. Harry vaguely remembered her slithering around in the grass around the gravestones while he tied to the statue.
The ones that would cause the most trouble would be Hufflepuff's cup, and the fragment attached to Rose's scar. Harry was completely confident he could get into Gringotts and destroy the cup, if he ignored any possible backlash. However, he would rather not result in Rose being banned from Gringotts.
He had a few ideas floating around for the fragment in Rose's scar, stemming from his experience with different magical schools and encounters. The Egyptians had many methods to remove curses and other magics from objects, as they were among the first to tie curses to objects, along with their work on magic involving the soul and the afterlife. The Asian magical schools had many different rituals and magic aimed towards purifying people and things, which were represented in their pop culture involving spirits. Many African wizarding communities had rituals designed to cleanse oneself, and banish evil.
He was sure that some ritual or spell could be altered to pull away the soul fragment from Rose. He would rather not have her get hit by a Killing Curse like he had been. The sooner he got the fragment away from her, the sooner her magic could finally stabilize, and her personality could be soothed.
Harry had come to the realization, when he looked back on his younger years at Hogwarts, that he had been a rather angsty and dramatic teen. While some would say that he had been justified in feeling the way he did, he couldn't stand the way he acted. He had been like a child, his emotions fluctuating, and had been partially caused by the soul fragment.
When he, Ron, and Hermione had been wearing Slytherin's locket in the Forest of Dean, it had caused severe mood change and brought out the more negative aspects of their personalities. Harry couldn't discount the idea that the soul fragment attached to his scar had caused some personality instability, as his magic grappled with the piece of Voldemort's soul. The sooner he removed it from Rose the better.
He planned to contain the diadem after Crouch was dealt with. A quick trip down to the Chamber of Secrets to snag a fang with venom in it, and he would be one step closer to eradicating Voldemort.
The locket would be almost as easy, but would require him to get in contact with Sirius and explain the unique circumstances. At this point, Grimmauld place was not under the Fidelius charm, but Sirius would still need to let him in the wards for the first time. After that, it would be simple to get the locket from Kreacher by speaking to him about Regulus.
He would have to be cautious about going after the Gaunt ring; it was not a great distance from the Riddle manor, and he was unsure if Voldemort was keeping the area under watch. Harry was confident he could sneak through the defenses, but he would want to be sure that Voldemort wasn't monitoring the ring.
He still didn't have a clue on how to get Hufflepuff's cup from Gringotts without almost starting a Goblin War. Not that he would care that much, nasty greedy little bastards that they are, but it would make things more difficult for Rose.
Overall, it didn't seem too difficult, especially considering he had almost a year to accomplish it. Harry was more unsure of what he was supposed to do for the school year than how to kill Voldemort.
The real Alastor Moody was now resting in the infirmary under Madam Pompfrey's tender care. He was not too damaged from his time trapped by Crouch Jr.; he had lost some weight and had a mostly healed cut on his face, but he had not sustained the same amount of damage he had in Harry's time.
They decided to wait until the morning to fill in the real Mad-eye Moody, and to ask his assistance in continuing the ruse. That would require that Moody remains at the school to teach for the year.
But, Harry mused as he stared at the bound body of Barty Crouch Jr., they had until June to figure every little detail out.
"I never would have guessed," Dumbledore said slowly, his face worn as he slumped in his desk chair. "I thought Alastor had simply gotten more eccentric than was his normal behavior, but I didn't think it was something of this magnitude."
"And that is the problem Albus," Harry said tiredly, the will to argue having faded for the night. "You didn't think you could be wrong."
"I have wronged you greatly, haven't I Harry?" Dumbledore whispered out, pain shining through his eyes.
Harry shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say. He had a long list of grievances with Dumbledore, and he would always have a spark of anger of the way his life had been toyed with.
That didn't mean he didn't still care for and mourn him. While Hagrid had been the first person to introduce him to the wizarding world, Albus Dumbledore had been the one that truly demonstrated the wonders of magic to him.
From their first discussion after he found the Mirror of Erised, to the long discussions about magic in his office, Dumbledore had truly filled a grandfatherly role to him. He had shown him the potential of what magic could really do, along with a familial companionship that Harry sorely lacked.
"I can't change my past, but I can change Rose's future." Harry said softly. "I have my own grievances with you, but I am willing to put that aside for the sake of her future."
"I will share my knowledge with you, and I expect you to do the same. I won't tolerate this breadcrumb trail bullshit that you're so fond of Albus. You can be involved, or I can take care of it myself."
Harry could see Dumbledore wince as he spoke, truly looking his age of over a century.
"We have a unique chance here Albus," Harry said, his tone losing the heat it had. "We have the chance to save hundreds if not thousands of lives, to prevent children from becoming orphans, spouses from becoming widows, and stop the disintegration of wizarding Britain."
"All I ask is that you work with me. There is no need to pull the threads of the spiderweb. We can cut off the head of the snake once and for all. I don't need Supreme Mugwump Dumbledore, or Chief Warlock Dumbledore. I need the Albus Dumbledore that fought Gellert Grindelwald, that fought against tyranny and evil.
Harry could see the pain filling Dumbledore's eyes at the mention of his old lover, but it was a necessary pain.
Shortly after Harry began contracting with the ICW, he had the chance to work with a wizard, named Jeremiah Gottwald, that had fought alongside his grandfather, Charlus Potter, in World War II.
Aside from being a fountain of information about a member of his family that he knew basically nothing about, Jeremiah had actually been present when Dumbledore had fought Grindelwald, and had provided Harry with the memory.
Harry watched that memory dozens of times, marveling at the feats of magic that were performed. Grindelwald fought like a hurricane, similarly to the way Harry fought, with a barrage of curses that were mixed with the occasional transfiguration and elemental spell.
Dumbledore was an unshakable rock by comparison, never faltering in his advance. Each wave of his wand summoned forth dozens of transfigurations, stone knights blocking spells with their shields while packs of wolves lunged for his opponents throat. Curses were intercepted by summoned debris, the shattered remains turning into deadly knives launched back just as fast.
Dumbledore brought forth an army in every battle he fought it, created from the very wreckage and environment around him.
If Grindelwald was a storm of death, causing destruction with every step, then Dumbledore was a fountain of life, with magical constructs and transfiguration rising from the ground around him to fight.
It had shown Harry why Dumbledore's name was truly respected in Europe, especially among those that had been alive during World War II. He had seen acts of transfiguration he didn't even imagine were possible during the fight.
Harry needed that Albus Dumbledore, the Albus Dumbledore that had cut a swath through the heart of Grindelwald's army in Berlin before shattering their hold completely.
Harry watched as Dumbledore sighed deeply, a wrinkled hand going to massage the bridge of his nose where his spectacles sat.
"I have not been that man for many years Harry; I am a teacher, not a fighter. My place is in a classroom, not a battlefield. I am so very tired of death and destruction."
"All I ask is that you give it some thought." Harry could see the reluctance in the headmaster's eyes, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try and get Dumbledore to help.
Albus Dumbledore has been studying magic for almost a century, at a level that only a handful of wizards across the world could match. He has learned and forgotten more magic than the average person learns in their entire life. While Harry could retrieve Voldemort's horcruxes himself, and create a plan for the encounter the night of the third task, having Dumbledore on his side would make it much easier in the time until then.
"I will Harry. Now, it has been a rather eventful few days, and it is getting late. We can discuss more in the morning," Dumbledore said, as he slowly got to his feet. "I will relocate Barty to the dungeons for now until a more permanent solution can be created."
Harry hummed agreeably as he stood and stretched, his back popping with the movements. He was still tired from fighting before his unfortunate dimension jump, and being on his feet all day bouncing from Hogwarts to Diagon Alley didn't help.
"Until the morning then Albus. We are going to have to explain to the students what happened somehow," Harry said as he walked towards the door.
"Goodnight Harry. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."
Harry stopped with his hand on the doorknob, as the headmaster's sorrow-filled tone reached him. "I know you are Albus. I am too."
Harry gently closed the door behind him, his feet slowly taking him through familiar hallways towards his room. He was physically and mentally exhausted, the rapid change in emotions leaving him drained.
Eventually he made his way back to his room, changing into one of the sets of clothing he had purchased that day, his combat robes and gear hung up on a transfigured stand.
Harry sunk onto the couch in the room, leaning his head back against the back of the couch as he shut his eyes, a moment of rest in an otherwise hectic and busy day, the events of the last 48 hours finally catching up to him.
"You can come on out Rose, I know you've been waiting."