Disclaimer: Everything, everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters for short while.
A/N: This is my first fanfiction, and my shot at multiple genres, including Powerful! Harry and Time-Travel! Harry. Dissatisfied with the way things turned out in his life, Harry travels back in time to his fourth year, to fix things. Please rate and review. Rating T to be on the safer side. May change the rating as the story progresses. This won't be slash.
Chapter 1
A lone figure stood on the edge of a cliff, watching the sun set in the West. On both sides of the spectacular panorama, the rocky beaches of Wales stretched as far as the eye could see. Strong waves lapped the rough shores, and the picturesque sky was dotted with seagulls. A gentle breeze was flowing from the sea to the lush, green lands, filling the isolated person with peace. Not a soul was present for several miles, providing the figure with ample seclusion.
The figure standing on the precipice was a man of about five-foot nine, wearing robes of pure black. He had long, shaggy grey hair, some of it tied in a ponytail. His neatly trimmed Verdi style beard, had strands of black and silver. The wrinkles on his face described the scars of the decades he had lived by. His eyes, once the colour of the Avada Kedavra, were now a dull green, shining with strength and wisdom. On his forehead, was a curious lightning-shaped scar, one that identified him as one Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the Man-Who-Conquered.
The date was 31st July, 2180, and Harry Potter had turned two hundred years old. Even after living for two centuries, Harry wasn't tired of life. Living every day as if it were his last, his youthful exuberance and his unshakeable spirit belied his age. In his rather more-than-average lifespan as a wizard, Harry had met and exchanged stories with several people, roamed the world and gathered knowledge, becoming wiser each passing day. Of course, it all started on that fateful day.
Flashback
In his entire career of twenty-five years as an Auror, Harry Potter had never been injured. Not grievously, anyway. For him, the Auror raids resulted in minor scrapes and bruises, but nothing serious. All his wounds so far had been healed by the Auror department's resident Healers and medics. One day however, a raid in one of the black markets of Southampton had resulted in the capture of Harry, and a demand of ransom from the kidnappers. The ensuing fight had lasted for over ten hours, in which all the thugs were killed, but Harry was left in a critical condition.
He was immediately rushed to St. Mungo's, and his treatment had lasted for over two weeks, after which the healers had decided to keep him under observation for a few days. Healer Julian Crompton, a good friend of Harry's, was personally monitoring and supervising Harry's treatment. A few days into the treatment, Harry was sprawled on his hospital bed, reading a book. His wife Ginny and his children had left a few hours ago, and now he was bored to death. Just as he was about to doze off, there was a knock on the door, and Healer Crompton entered the room.
Julian Crompton was a very popular Healer at St. Mungo's due to his immense knowledge in Healing and Potions, and his friendly attitude towards everyone. He was a short, plump man with a balding head, wearing a white coat, grey trousers and carrying a magical stethoscope around his neck.
"Ah, Harry!" said Julian, smiling after seeing him. Striding to the various contraptions lined along the wall, he began checking the readings and noting them down. "Good, good. Two more days and you're good to go!" said Julian, glancing at the readings. "However, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Huh?" said Harry, staring at his Healer friend. The usually smiling man had lost his perpetual grin, looking uncharacteristically serious. "What's the matter, Julian?"
Julian pulled up a chair, and cast privacy charms on the door. Harry's eyebrows shot up; he was starting to get wary of Julian's unusual behaviour. "Well, I suppose there's no subtle way to approach this subject. Before I tell you anything, answer my question please. Has anyone done a full body scan on you before?"
Harry was surprised at the question, but decided to humour his friend. "I guess. I've been in the Hogwarts infirmary more number of times than any student; Madam Pomfrey must have performed a scan at some point."
Julian's features darkened. "Harry, what I'm about to tell you, are the results of a full body scan performed on you."
And thus, out came the story of the multitude potions fed to him over the years. Right from the day he started Hogwarts, to present day; it listed several loyalty potions, love potions, Obliviations and also a block on his magic. With every revelation, Harry's anger grew. By the end of Julian's little speech, Harry was feeling murderous.
"I saw fit to tell you this now, since you've almost made a full recovery. Normally, I'd wait for the patient to heal completely, and…" Julian's words drifted off as he looked at Harry, who was trying to say something. Harry knew Julian wasn't lying; his Healer's Oath prevented him from doing so.
Finally, Harry managed to say, "Thank you for telling me, Healer Julian. May I have some privacy? I have a lot of thinking to do." Harry's formal monotone worried Julian. However, he got up and began to leave. Before exiting the room, he turned at the door and looked at Harry. "If you wish to talk to someone, I'm always here Harry." Harry smiled at the kind man. "Thank you, Julian." was all Healer Crompton heard before he closed the door.
End Flashback
What followed after would make the headlines of The Daily Prophet for weeks. Copies were sold out and re-printed, reporting Harry Potter's falling out with his family, the Weasleys. The Weasleys were held in contempt of their actions, and shunned by the magical population. Though uninvolved or ignorant in any wrongdoings, Harry's children were forever tainted with the faults of their mother. Divorce wasn't an option in the Wizarding World; and so, Harry sought a barrister, proceeding with an annulment of his marriage.
When everything had quieted down, Harry visited his children one last time. He let James, Albus and Lily know that he was severing all ties with Ginny and the Weasleys, and would be travelling the world, promising to stay in touch. The boys and Lily were hurt, but they knew that their father was far more hurt, and needed a period of self-healing. Besides, all of them were nearly adults, and could take their own decisions. Harry also paid visits to Neville, Luna, Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Kingsley, Andromeda (whom he called Andi), and last but not the least his Godson, Teddy. Dora's and Remus' son was happily married to Victoire, and had followed in his Godfather's footsteps, becoming an Auror.
And thus, Harry began to travel. He journeyed high and low, far and wide. From the Rocky Mountains of the States, to the great Sahara Desert; from the Amazon forest to the wet, tropical lands in Asia; Harry's indefinite excursion involved covering all seven continents. He hiked in the Himalayas, swam in the Great Barrier Reef, visited the lost city of the Incas, caught glimpses of wildlife in Tanzania, and toured the sprawling cities of Asia. Money wasn't a problem; the wealth he had accumulated after the war was more than sufficient to last him for another hundred years. His children were well settled, and no longer needed the Potter Vault. Ginny and the Weasleys had no access to Harry's fortune.
His magic and intelligence, no longer plagued by the power block and potions, resulted in Harry soon developing a thirst for knowledge. After a year of relaxation, Harry began his quest of learning. First, he revised from the Hogwarts curriculum; in which he included Arithmancy and Ancient Runes as well. After a thorough understanding of all subjects, he then turned towards the curriculums of others magical schools. Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Ilvermorny, Castelobruxo, Koldovstoretz, Mahoutokoro, Uagadoue, Salem were just some of the schools whose curriculums he covered. With each passing day, his academic attainment expanded, gaining a deep insight in various aspects of magic.
He met several great masters and mistresses of magic; people who were elites in their chosen fields. He delved into Occlumency, Legilimency, Blood Magic, Wards, Necromancy, Transmutation, Parselmagic, Alchemy, Spell Crafting, Wand Crafting and Wandlore. Under the alias 'James Evans', he started duelling in the magical underworld, gaining reputation as one of the deadliest duellists in history, and earning millions of galleons.
His travels had ended about five years ago, and now he lived a life of quiet isolation. He had outlived all of his children, his ex-wife, his friends and colleagues from the past. He'd kept an eye on the descendants of the Potter family, his grand-something sons and daughters, but never directly approached them. He was thought dead long back, which suited him just fine. So, as he stood on the cliff overlooking the sea, enjoying the cool breeze, he reflected back on his latest thought process- time travel.
True, he'd lived about a hundred and twenty more years than he'd thought. True, he had knowledge and wisdom that most wizards and witches would dream of having. True, he was probably the strongest person on the planet right now. 'But', he mused. 'I'm not happy.' Controlled and manipulated in his earlier years, had left him unable to trust people, thus leaving him bereft of a truly meaningful relationship. He yearned for a Happily Ever After, living his life to the fullest, and then passing on to his next great adventure. More than anything though, he was left with several unanswered questions pertaining to his past, and he wanted them answered.
While travelling, when he was crossing Turkmenistan, he came across an old mosque, which used to be a church at some point in the past. He discovered several old documents describing a technique, which if done correctly, would send his soul back in time, effectively ending his life in this timeline. 'Oh, what the hell', thought Harry, staring into the dying sun. 'I've got nothing left in this world. If I screw up, I get to meet my parents. It's a win-win situation.'
The following day, at his small stone house near the cliff, he made all the proper arrangements and waited. He sat and meditated, reflecting back on his life. He thought about his childhood, his youth, his middle-age, old age and final years. He thought about his past; his friends and foes, allies and enemies, colleagues and acquaintances. He ruminated on his acquirements and illumination, his education and erudition, and the knowledge and wisdom he had gathered in his life. Harry uttered the incantation, pointing the wand at his temple. The tip of his wand started glowing softly, and a buzzing noise filled the atmosphere. The air became thick with magic, visibly crackling with magical power. Harry started to feel his life slipping away, deep into darkness.
Harry's last thought before he lost his life completely was, 'Shit! Did I leave the stove on?'
