Harry Potter fulfilled his destiny, and the world is at peace. But he isn't. Hermione says he's haunted by the war. Ron has no idea. Ginny can't understand. McGonagall thinks he's still adjusting to a 'perfectly nice, normal life'. But Harry knows, he isn't haunted by the war.

He misses it.

So in search of happiness, of true fulfillment, Harry turns to the Darker Arts for help. After a year of research he finds a spell intended to solve all his problems. Welcome to 1971, in an alternate universe where Harry Potter doesn't exist. Hadrian Riddle, however, does. Perhaps a bit of a hastily concocted alias, but Harry Potter was willing to take it, if it meant he could leave Harry Potter behind him. Hadrian Riddle was what was in front of him.

Chapter 5

Promises Were Made to be Broken

"Do you find this funny, hm?" Her face was like that of the sky when a huge storm was approaching. Though not as intimidating as her older self it was still quite scary. Sirius promptly choked on his laughter, while Lucius sent a malicious glare of disgust in his direction. Probably thought that he was shaming the Black family with his un-Pureblood mannerisms. Harry buried the urge to spit in the Malfoy heir's face.

By the time they had all reached her office, the Professor was considerably calmer- but still thin-lipped and stern-faced.

"I will not deal with this! Not again. Perhaps you believe yourselves to be all that, but your little prank could've killed Mr. Malfoy!" Sirius and James shared a confused look. A prank? Professor McGonagall thought they had set the snake on Malfoy?

"You cannot do these sorts of things and expect to get away with it. I've had pranksters of your likes before- but this is beyond any 'prank' I've seen. This could've cost a life. Not at all funny- hardly laughable!"

"Professor-" James began.

"No, Mr. Potter. I do not want to hear your excuses. Want I do want to hear is who's brilliant idea this was." She gazed demandingly downward at James, but Harry could've swore he saw her eyes flicker quickly in his direction.

"I'm telling you Professor, we didn't do anything. Really!" James protested hotly. Sirius nodded his head emphatically. Harry nearly grinned at the two of them, but schooled his face blank as McGonagall turned to him. However sincere and true the words James said were, he knew the Transfiguration teacher needed sound logic to follow by. And logic said that they were the perpetrators. He said otherwise.

"What evidence do you have that are solidifying your claims against us? What does it say when the head of Gryffindor immediately jumps to the conclusion that her own first year students had attempted to injure, possibly even kill, another student? Until you have a piece of foolproof evidence to pin the events of today on three first years- your own Lions no less- there is no reason behind punishing us." Harry realized how adult he sounded in the moment, but also realized he was in a new world, new life. He could be anyone now. Like an eleven year old with a strangely solemn demeanor, and/or manner.

In the moment, he finally really felt like just Hadrian Riddle arguing with Professor McGonagall. Not Harry Potter pretending to be someone else.

"Innocent," he said softly, "until proven guilty." The woman stared at him in silence. It could've been hours or seconds, but eventually a gleam lit her eye. It was of quiet resignation. She knew he was right.

"All of you return to your activities. And Mr. Malfoy, as you are here I might as well inform you now that we have located your baggage." The slight happiness in the blonde's face went away at her next words. "It was found at the bottom of the Lake and your items are refusing to be dried. I simply mean that everything you had is accounted for, but is waterlogged. It won't dry naturally, and magic does nothing. All the same, the caretaker placed it all next to your dormitory bed."

Harry quite nearly smiled. It had been a tricky bit of magic, not to mention it was wordless and wandless. The amount of emotion he had in that second though, helped complete the spell. Malfoy left the office in a rage, and practically slammed the door. Harry left the office without Sirus and James, saying he wasn't hungry anymore.

"You sure you don't want to grab a bite to eat?" Sirius asked.

"Really, I'm good." Harry responded. "Probably going to study a little more Transfiguration. McGonagall seemed tough." Sirus had nodded and then left to the Great Hall.

Harry then exchanged a pleasant goodbye with Professor McGonagall for the sake of being on good terms and polite.

"I am sincerely sorry that we had to meet in this way again, Professor McGonagall. I'm Hadrian Riddle, one of your first years. We met earlier, of course, and I look forward to your class."

"Do you?" She said.

"Yes, ma'am. I was particularly interested by the theory of the Animagus. It is labeled as an interpretation of the soul, but the form is known to change in situations. So, is it believed the soul itself is changing, or is the theory wrong? Or maybe a little off? Transfiguration is a very precise magic, but at the same time so little is specified about it." Professor McGonagall's mouth turned upwards ever so slightly.

"The theory of the Animagus is a debatable subject, but not nearly as much as the theory of changing matter. We can discuss sometime, Mister Riddle, if you really find the syllabus so uninteresting in the weeks to come."

"A brilliant mind to converse with? It would be an honor, Professor. Any way I can improve my knowledge of magic. Besides, I really don't think James or Sirius would want to talk about the theory of changing matter." The Professor laughed a little.

"Perhaps young Mr. Potter would rather have a game of Quidditch, hm? Rather like his father before him. Now," and she fixed him with a serious look. "I am aware I blamed you three unjustly, I had a rough night yesterday. Stress got to me and I lashed out unprofessionally and rudely. Just promise that the three of you won't be up to any mischief this year... I need a peaceful bunch for once."

"Basically, you responded to stress like a human? It's really fine, Professor. And I promise that we will stay out of trouble, stick to the rules like glue." Harry dipped his head respectfully and turned and opened the door. Before he could step out into the hall though, McGonagall called out.

"Hadrian? Do you- I mean- well, are your parents around?"

"No, ma'am. I live at Wool's Orphanage for Boys and Girls." Boy does magic like her irony, he thought to himself. "When you came to visit, still, er, the same place."

"Oh." She said, quietly. "I apologise it's... I had- well. Wondered if you met them before, I meant."

"It's alright." Harry said as quietly. "No, I never knew them. At least, not that I can remember."

"Well, I suppose everything happens for a reason." She looked thoughtful and a bit distant, as if her mind was on something else, but gave him a quick pat on the shoulder.

"Doesn't mean we have to like it." Harry said a bit harshly. "But you are right. Everything happens for a reason." He looked the Professor in the eye. "For a reason, good or bad."

Harry left the room with a deep burning hatred rising for Voldemort in his gut. A bad reason had killed his parents. And he had killed Voldemort for a good reason. But now this was a different universe. Voldemort was probably out there somewhere lying low while Grindelwald wrecked havoc.

But not for long, Harry decided. He was going to find Voldemort, he thought, and stop him before he really got started.

He was going to kill him if he had the chance.

Lost in thought, Harry walked the halls aimlessly. "I don't know what your playing at, muggle boy, but I warn you this is a dangerous game to play." A voice spoke from behind him. "Don't involve yourselves with our house, our people. Otherwise, next time, there will be a price to pay." Harry nearly snorted, but instead remained facing the opposite direction.

"What price? To whom is it paid?"

"Stupid questions! Just heed the warning, know who is above you." Harry let silence settle a little before talking.

"I know who is above me," Harry said lowly.

"Good." The stranger said with satisfaction. Harry had long since ruled out Malfoy, too deep a voice.

"But clearly, you don't." Harry knew that was a risky move- but went through with it anyways. When he eventually turned around, no one was there.

He had planted the seeds of wariness, confusion, interest, dislike, and the odd respect that the Slytherins would have to give for his prowess with the luggage trick and the manner he handled everything in.

It really all was just a stupid game. But kids become moody teens become dangerous adults. Harry knew.

"I'm sorry, again, for this morning. I had just wanted to be prepared for the day and- well, sorry. Really, sorry." The kid from the morning with the four a.m alarm smiled sheepishly as Harry stood by the portrait door he had just came through with one eyebrow raised. He was about to speak but- "My name is Remus, by the way. Remus Lupin."

Harry's eyes began to burn. It was all too much, shock was coming in. Remus, whom he had seen still and cold and dead at the Battle of Hogwarts was standing here, young, whole, alive, and in front of him.

"It's fine, I promise. Please, if you'll excuse me." Harry brushed past the auburn head of his old Professor and toward the dormitory. He needed to collect himself- his thoughts.

Harry sat down on his bed, and before he knew it he had drifted into sleep.

"Your time, your place. Your time, your place." Those words echoed in the empty air, a mantra.

"What does that mean!?" Harry shouted to the heavens. "What does that mean?!"

"Your time, your place. Your time, your place. Your time, your place."

"Why?" Harry asked in frustration. "Why is it my time, my place?"

"You belong. You are home."

"I don't understand."

"You have never belonged, now you do."

"I don't get it!"

"Welcome back Hadrian."

Harry woke being shook back and forth. Out of habit he grabbed his wand and notched it under the person's neck. He quickly lowered upon realizing it was James.

"Sorry, I thought-"

"Shhhh." James whispered. Harry frowned but then took in how the dormitory looked. Everyone was in bed and sleeping. A sliver of moonlight was trickling in from the window. He must've slept through the whole day. But the dream had felt like no more than a minute or two.

"Sorry," he whispered, "I thought I was being attacked." James looked at him weirdly but then grabbed his arm and dragged him to the door, slowly inching it open. He then took Harry down to the common room where Sirius sat in one of the poofiest chairs sleepily.

"Time to explore," the shaggy haired boy whispered happily. Harry glanced to the common room window. It was pitch black outside, clearly past curfew. And as he, Sirus, and James made their way into the corridor quietly as possible, all he could think of was the promise he made to McGonagall.

Oh well.

Promises are made to be broken, right?