A/N: Hi! Sorry for being a day late, I had a lot of work-related issues this week and also a few hiccups in a few scenes!
This will be the last prologue-only chapter, the next one will include the time-travel world! Still haven't fully decided if Harry should be a year younger or not...

Neville was very caught off guard. Any previous thoughts of finding ways to take down Harry immediately disappeared as he stared into the emerald depths of his friend's eyes. Said owner of the emerald eyes repeated his question, "How did you get your hands on a snitch?"

Neville looked at his left hand, the one with the golden ball fluttering wildly. It seemed indignant at being forced to close up. Neville stepped back from Harry, "Appeared in my hands."

Harry watched the golden ball with thinly veiled curiosity. There was something else in the gaze as well, but when he spoke his voice betrayed nothing but antagonism, "Give it here. You've no right to what's mine."

There was no way Neville was going to give it, and he opened his mouth to state as such. However, his brain finally caught up to Harry's earlier barrage of questions and his eyes widened, "Wait, Harry, you don't know who I am?"

"Don't play dumb with me, if you're in my mind that can only mean you're here to take my memories. Trying to find a way to kill me, no doubt.", Harry snapped angrily.

Neville's suddenly blank expression was all the confirmation Harry needed. He outstretched his hand and a wand appeared out of nowhere. Harry immediately pointed the wand at Neville's neck, stilling the other teen out of caution.

"I was right. Hand me the snitch, or you will not return to your body.", he commanded, eyes flashing in warning.

Neville's mind raced. So many unanswered questions that he had to ask Harry, most of which centered around how he looked and acted so...different. However, he couldn't discount the possibility that this was all just a trick to let down his guard. After a little inward debating, he hedged his bets on this Harry being different from the Harry outside.

"Harry, my name is Neville. We've been friends since first year, ever since you saved my Remembrall.", Neville said furtively.

Harry's arm slackened for a bit, elbow bending closer to the body. The moment of weakness passed quickly and he pointed the wand at Neville again.

"Don't remember that name, and even if I did that doesn't discount the fact that you've been digging through my head. What friend goes digging around their friend's head for answers when you could've just asked?", Harry ground out.

Neville shook his head fervently, "Listen, Harry, there's reasons why I can't ask your real self for the answers I need."

Harry let out a disbelieving scoff and said, "So what makes you think I'll answer them for you?"

Nothing, that's why I'm here digging through your memories, is what Neville WANTED to say. However, despite the mistrust between the two, Neville couldn't help but feel a small seed of hope sprouting in his heart. The fact that Harry didn't immediately hex him meant that there was a chance he wasn't dealing with outside Harry, but rather a Harry that's free from corruption. The Harry he went to school with.

This must be what Hermione was hoping for!, Neville realized with a shock. Tepid elation coursed through his body. Despite being held at wandpoint by both the outside version and dreamscape version of the person before him, Neville's compassion bloomed again.

"Harry, what's the last thing you remember?"

Harry's guarded expression wavered for a split second, but Neville caught it. He asked again, this time with more force

Harry's face soured. He paused for a split second until a figurative torch went off in his head, "Trying to take advantage of my disability to escape? Sorry, but nice try Neville."

He raised his arm to begin a spell.

"You've lost all your memories, haven't you Harry?", Neville quickly asked. Harry stilled, wand still in the air. Neville pressed on, "That's why you're trying to get this snitch. You can't remember anything, and you've been stuck here trying to get them back."

Harry's face paled considerably. His facade was on the verge of shattering. Neville stood there, tense in case Harry attempted to curse him for finding out. Eventually, Harry replied, speaking as if every word pained him to enunciate, "Pretend that's the case, what do you plan to do with that information?"

If Neville knew that he'd encounter an amnesiac Harry prior to going down memory lane, he would have seized on this moment of weakness. However, seeing the vulnerable look that Harry gave him now his thought process went in the opposite direction.

"Help you, what else?"

He outstretched the hand holding onto the snitch. It frantically flapped as if to get away from Harry, but Neville's firm grip prevented it from doing so. "Come on, take my hand."

Harry eyed the hand with suspicion. Sort of like a cat taking food from a stranger.

"How do I know this is not a trick?"

"Because I was once your friend."

Neville never noticed the rusted metal of this snitch, nor the faint dark smoke emitting from within.

March 31, 1998. Malfoy Manor

Memory Five

Neville and Harry fell on a wooden floor unceremoniously. The room seemed to have once been a study, lined with books all the way to the ceiling. However, the room was devoid of almost all furnishings, not even a table. A chandelier with floating candles hovered over Neville's head, providing a dim orange light. Helping Harry up, he looked around and immediately regretted it as he came face to face with red serpentine eyes, who's owner occupied the only chair in the room.

Neville swore and spun back around to tell Harry to watch out, when he saw Harry watching a bowed memory-Harry with a pensive look, occasionally flitting his eyes to look at Voldemort.

"Who is that man, Neville? Was I some sort of servant or something to him?"

NO was his reflexive answer, but thinking better of it, Neville replied cautiously, "Sort of. You didn't go to him willingly though."

Harry recoiled and glared at Neville suspiciously, "Go willingly? What does that mean?"

Neville suddenly felt very self-conscious about himself. He spent his entire seventh year trying to take over the reins of Dumbledore's Army. However, try as he might, his charisma just never seemed to click with everyone as Harry's did. People were much more prone to lose faith around him. Subconsciously, Neville looked up to (and even envied) his opponent's skill at making others believe. While Neville needed to lead with logic, Harry had led them by just being Harry - giving off a larger-than-life image whilst simultaneously appearing as humble as possible.

He laughed defeatedly. Even after nearly two years of considering him an enemy, it only took one conversation with an amnesiac to reduce Neville back to a blabbering child, always looking for approval.

I guess that's what makes us different. You never cared for approval.

"It means that even after two years, I'm still nowhere close to you."

Harry's eyes widened and they settled into a look of concern for the blond-haired boy. Neville's dispirited facial expression only fell even more at that, "Look, uh, Neville. I'm sure you're plenty good at whatever it is you do! Well, at least you entered my head somehow!"

Neville's retort never came as the memory started with Voldemort's high-pitched voice rasping, "I've been disappointed yet again, my heir. It seems that under your watchful gaze, somehow the captives had managed to escape."

Memory-Harry's lips thinned but he didn't respond to the admonishment. Voldemort leaned forwards, "If you were a mere Death Eater I'd have you writhing on the floor for hours on end. You'd be begging for mercy, which would come only as a flash of green. I'm sure you witnessed what happened to Rowle."

"Yes, m'lord."

Voldemort stood up and snapped his fingers. Memory-Harry didn't move as the door to the chamber opened up and the sound of two pairs of footsteps and something dragging on the floor steadily increased in volume. Voldemort spoke as the new arrivals came in, betraying no emotion in his words, "When something goes wrong, something must be changed. Potter, every mission of yours has been a success. You've built up quite the reputation on mental torture and efficiency. I hear your skill on the Memory Charm and implanting false memories in particular can even turn brother against brother. However, two things have been brought to my attention."

A thud rang out as the luggage was dropped off on the laminated wood. Neville looked down and with a heavy heart realized that it was Luna, bound and gagged looking even worse than in the previous memories. A butterbeer cap necklace glinted from the dim candlelight. Memory-Harry's face looked pained as the two sets of footsteps left the room, shutting the door as they left.

"One, you have never been on a mission against a former classmate."

With a wave, he undid the gag on Luna, "And two, you've never killed anyone."

Memory-Harry's breathing quickened almost imperceptibly. Voldemort's red eyes gleamed with an animalistic malice, "The first is mostly my fault, I suppose. Who would've thought that my greatest enemies would be a bunch of schoolchildren? However, imagine my surprise when it has been brought to my attention that you always ordered someone else to do your dirty work. Are you simply incapable of casting the Killing Curse, Potter? Or…are you not quite as loyal as you claim to be?"

Voldemort lifted his wand out from his sleeve. Memory-Harry tensed, reaching for his wand as well, but relaxed briefly as Voldemort pointed his at Luna and muttered, "Ennervate!"

As Luna's eyes began to flutter open, Voldemort continued his diatribe glibly, "It seems that in my haste to induct you as my heir and my equal, I have forsaken the usual method of ensuring your utmost loyalty to me. That must be rectified at once. Raise your wand and kill her."

Memory-Harry slowly walked over to Luna. Armless-Harry made a strangled sort of noise as he watched his counterpart point his wand at Luna. As his mouth opened, however, the doors to the chamber burst open as a Death Eater ran into the chamber, breathing heavily. Voldemort straightened up and looked at the newcomer with clear annoyance, "I believe my order was for complete privacy, Bellatrix?"

"T-The goblins, my lord! They report a b-break-in at Gringotts!"

Voldemort's red eyes widened and Neville suddenly found it hard to breath as waves of cold fury began filling the room. Scenes of drowning in a sea of blood wantonly danced across his vision. Armless-Harry, seemingly unfazed, placed a hand to steady Neville as he stared at Voldemort with burning green eyes.

"Bring them in."

Bellatrix quickly bowed out of the room. A few moments later, a troupe of goblins, each uglier than the next, walked in. Bellatrix tailed the troupe, still panting lightly from the exertion. The head goblin's nervous energy as he walked in only served to fuel Voldemort's rage.

Voldemort sat silently as Bellatrix prodded the lead goblin to tell the tale. The goblin, in between bouts of stuttering, relayed the events about how two Polyjuiced teens had snuck into the depths of the bank and made their way out on the back of a half-blind dragon.

Voldemort's eyes were practically slits by the end of it. The goblin guards raised their weapons cautiously in response, even as their widened eyes and beading sweat belayed their true emotion.

"And what has been taken?"

"A c-cup, my lor —"

The goblin never got to finish the sentence because a brief flash of light later, his eyes turned glassy and he fell on his side. The goblins yelled out in fright and immediately charged the Dark Lord, only to fall one by one to the same fate. Bellatrix spun around and fled out of the room hastily as the guards fell, not wanting to be another testament to the Dark Lord's wrath.

Very soon, the room became eerily quiet. Memory-Harry, who had remained motionless the entire time, said nothing as Voldemort paced back and forth in front of him, face transfixed into a permanent snarl. Eventually, he stopped and looked up at the ceiling.

"I must secure the others immediately. Nagini!"

The massive snake, previously unseen by Neville, slowly came down from rafters in the ceiling. Voldemort caressed the head of the snake almost lovingly, whispering, "You are never to leave my sight again, my precious pet."

Nagini bowed her head almost in a nodding fashion. Neville internally mused at how human-like the serpent's response had been.

Of course it is, it's a horcrux!, said a small voice in his head.

Voldemort turned his attention to memory-Harry, eyes glinting as he hissed, "I didn't forget about you, Potter. Those friends of yours have somehow stumbled upon one of my closest guarded secrets, another of which you possess. If it weren't for the vows you took, I'd have suspected YOU for treachery."

He got up in memory-Harry's face, sneering at him hatefully, "After all, that isn't an unknown concept to you."

Memory-Harry looked visibly sick.

"M-M'Lord, I would never betray you. I have already cut my ties with them —I have nothing to go back to."

Voldemort's sneer never left as he straightened up, "Quite. And don't you forget that. However, I would love to not be seen as the last choice by someone that the prophecy said would be my equal. Seeing as you are right now, I am simultaneously disgusted at you while being wary of your true loyalties. However, I cannot afford to kill you for you still hold one of my horcru—"

Voldemort paused abruptly as his eyes widened, "Of course, you are a horcrux."

What came next will forever haunt Neville's dreams. Voldemort threw back his head and LAUGHED. The rasping high pitched sound of his laughter echoed around the chamber, travelling like a wraith amongst the shelves.

"Potter, I have just thought of the most perfect way for you to prove your worth."

With a flick of his wand, a mahogany table appeared in front of memory-Harry. An obsidian dagger, inlaid with runes from the hilt down, materialised on the floor next to him. Neville could practically feel the dark magic coming off of the conjured items, ensnaring every person in the room in a terrible quicksand.

Memory-Harry visibly flinched as, even in the dim lighting of the chamber, Neville could tell that his skin turned pale as snow.

"Ah, yes. I do believe that you have been acquainted with this setup during one of our tutoring sessions last year."

Memory-Harry stiffly nodded, fear-stricken eyes never leaving the dagger. Neville looked questioningly at armless-Harry, who only shook his head at his unspoken question. Neither of them dared to make a noise.

"Your friend here offers the perfect opportunity, Potter. Prove to me you are worthy of the prophecy!"

Memory-Harry raised his arm almost robotically. His hair covered his eyes, preventing anyone from peering in. Luna's silvery eyes half-lidded in resignation as memory-Harry uttered the curse in the smallest voice possible,

"Avada Kedavra"

Armless-Harry shouted, "NO!", reaching out to grab memory-Harry's arm. However, his hand phased through his counterpart's without resistance. A green flash of light filled the room as Neville looked away, unable to bear the sight.

A dull thud. One slightly too drawn-out for just a head thumping on the floor.

"WHAT HAVE YOU—CRUCIO!"

Memory-Harry's eyes lit up in a fiery rage even as he fell over in agony. Neville's jaw slackened in horror as blood pooled out of memory-Harry's mouth and ears as he screamed in pain. Voldemort rushed over to the fallen snake and held it, looking for any signs of life from the serpent. A faint smell of rotting started filling the room as if the snake was never meant to be alive and it was now turning into its rightful state.

Voldemort slowly straightened up, angry torrents of dark energy billowing from his body as he unleashed his fury. His face twisted into the most frightening visage Neville had ever seen, displaying naught but promising a fate worse than death to any that crossed him.

And judging from what he had seen, memory-Harry had not only crossed the line, he obliterated it as he did so.

"I see normal methods are not enough to guarantee your loyalty, Potter. Your defiance will not go unrewarded.", hissed Voldemort angrily.

A cruel smile slowly split Voldemort's pale face as he pointed his wand at Luna, "Compassion is a weakness. It's time to show you why. CRUCIO!"

Luna began screaming as the spell took hold, writhing in pain against her bindings. Neville's every instinct yearned and begged him to look anywhere else, but he somehow couldn't look away from the twitching mass that his friends were reduced to. Somehow, his hatred for the Dark Lord grew even more.

Voldemort sneered with glee as he watched the two writhe on the floor. He kneeled down next to Harry and whispered hatefully, "You caused this, you caused her to be in pain. One last chance, kill her. Or would you rather I send in Bellatrix to continue this...session?"

Memory-Harry coughed out a globule of blood as the Cruciatus continued to work it's way through Harry's system. Voldemort lifted the curse and asked impatiently, "Well?"

Green eyes looked up at Voldemort's red ones, reflecting their searing hatred back at them tenfold. He replied coldly, "You are lucky I cannot kill you. However, that doesn't mean I can't—"

A weak voice caused his rant to die down immediately, "Harry, you're stupid."

Memory-Harry flinched as Luna continued with a hoarse but strangely steady voice, "Being delusional doesn't suit you, I doubt Voldemort would leave any holes in whatever he's using to bind you. No, what you need to do is to give me a good send off."

Ignoring Voldemort's surprised look, memory-Harry shook his head and whispered fervently, "I can't! Luna, I can think of a way to get you out, we just need some time."

Luna's blood-streaked lips curled into a small smile, "Did the nargles take your brain, Harry? I hope they return it soon, you act really stupid without one."

"Damn it, this isn't the time for your...nonsense!"

"Then don't be a hypocrite, Harry.", replied Luna with an edge that Neville never heard before. Her silvery eyes turned to steel as she said with a note of finality, "Do me a favor and kill me. I can only ignore the Cruciatus for so long."

Neville gasped. Wait, she's still under the Cruciatus? How can she be so lucid under that curse for so long?!

As if sensing Neville's question (although in reality, it's more so memory-Harry's shocked look), she replied ruefully, "You didn't think I actually believed in those fanciful creatures, did you? They all came from a fantastic children's book, long out of print. My mum read that to me as a bedtime story as a kid.

When she died, I wept for days. Subconsciously, I knew that nothing could fill that hole. So, I coped by saying she was taken from me by a wrackspurt infestation. Then, when they took away her stuff, I told myself nargles stole them."

Luna let loose a hollow, slightly manic laugh. Neville shuddered. Such a sound shouldn't have come from Luna's mouth.

"I thought school would provide enough distractions from my pain, but my house provided no solace. I thought I could finally let my guard down, allow others into my life. The only thing that awaited me were endless nargles taking my belongings and hiding them in other people's dorms."

Memory-Harry, unsure of what else to do, placed a hand on Luna's shoulder. Voldemort looked on impassively, anger since superseded by a maliciously curious gaze as if trying to dissect Luna with his eyesight.

"Harry, before my fourth year I was lonely. Ginny kept me company, but she only stayed with me during study sessions. When the DA formed, I thought I finally found friends. When I met you, I thought I finally found someone genuine, someone that I can finally let down the facade. You didn't care that I spoke of creatures unknown, for all you cared about was to live a normal life."

Luna's right arm started spasming uncontrollably. She seemingly didn't notice it, for her eyes were on memory-Harry's unwaveringly, "When you left us, guess what Harry? I could no longer cope. It's one thing to be disappointed when I had no expectations, it's entirely another to be let down by someone I thought I could trust. I broke. That jail sentence down in the cellar, it was like a hotel. Finally, I didn't have to hide from my problems, for I was already experiencing the worst."

She shook her head with a defeated lip curl, eyes trailing away from memory-Harry's to look at the dead corpse of Nagini, "When you came back into my life, I found myself suddenly desperate. I allowed myself to hope again. Not in being set free, Merlin no, but I was hoping that I knew Harry Potter, that it wasn't all just a facade. I don't fear death, Harry, I fear that I went through my life without getting to know someone."

Her eyes returned to memory-Harry's. Neville choked on a breath as he saw the eyes of an emotionally shattered soul. They brimmed with the unshed tears from years of torment bottled up.

It's no wonder the Cruciatus seems like child's play to her, Neville thought bitterly.

"Consider this my second to last request. Did I know the true Harry Potter? Or was it just a means to whatever end you were hoping for?"

"Luna, listen I— "

"A simple yes or no, Harry."

Memory-Harry took a deep breath.

"Yes."

Luna's entire form relaxed as she beamed, looking every bit like the Luna they knew. However, this time she looked positively radiant, as if an invisible weight lifted off her shoulders.

"Thank you. Then you should know what my final request is."

Memory-Harry nodded slowly, his eyes leaking with unbidden tears as he pointed his wand at Luna's head.

Luna's eyes lolled into the back of her head as she slumped on the floor. Memory-Harry, trembling with grief, lowered his wand for a brief second. Then, he screamed as his heart tore asunder in grief at the unfairness in the world.

Voldemort finally spoke up, "She was strong where you are weak. She hated the world and it was her hatred that provided her strength. A lesson you would do well to abide by."

"Shut up. You got what you wanted."

Memory-Harry picked up the prone form of Luna with nary a huff, placing it down right next to the mahogany table. Eyes burning with grief and hatred for everything, he picked up the obsidian dagger and plunged it right into his right arm.

Black shadows erupted from the wound as soon as the dagger broke the skin. As they engulfed his body, memory-Harry glared balefully at Voldemort, "Whatever you plan on doing, I will be fighting you every step of the way."

Voldemort's lip curled, "I will make sure you never escape then. Your body will be your own prison."

Suddenly, everything began warping like plastic in a convection oven. As the memory gasped it's last, Neville saw a pair of red-stained emerald eyes.

Memory-scape

This time, Neville found himself unmoved by the teleportation. It was as if only the scenery changed, not that he himself was being moved. Harry suddenly spoke up, "That's what happened with my arm. I split it off."

Neville, surprised, asked, "Did you get your memories back?"

Harry shook his head and replied slowly, "Magic is ingrained in us. Every spell we cast leaves an imprint on our magical core, no matter how insignificant. I may not know the name, but I do know the effects. Somehow, I managed to split my magic with that dagger, and it manifested as me losing an arm in this plane."

Neville nodded thoughtfully, eyes tracking a particularly fast snitch as it zoomed by, "So then what do—wait, split your magic?! Like a horcrux!", he exclaimed with a horrified shout.

Harry cocked his head side to side like a curious ten year old boy, as if rolling around the name in his head, "Horcrux...oh yes, a horcrux! My missing arm's a horcrux!"

"Harry, a horcrux is the darkest of dark magic. They say the creation of one damages your heart and soul irreparably, because the creation of one is meant to mean you value living above all else."

Harry laughed despairingly. Neville idly realized that it was identical to the one Luna let out in the final memory.

"Damn, and to think I was looking forward to death too. Yet another thing to blame on Voldemort, I suppose.", he said in a falsely calm tone. Then, in a much lower, more somber voice he asked, "Why did you come here? What's really going on outside right now? Did I really fall under that bastard's thumb?"

Neville hesitantly nodded. Harry pursed his lips, "He's definitely got some way to control me while my soul is in tatters. The only way I can think of getting Voldemort out is to get the piece of my soul back."

"Harry, you're ignoring the fact that neither of us knows what your horcrux actually is", replied Neville irritably.

Harry despondently replied, "It could be literally anything —wait, Neville! How did you get in here?"

A perturbed Neville replied, "Legilimency, why?"

Harry's eyes gleamed, "Legilimency gives you the memories you seek and nothing more! Tell me, what were you looking for when you came in?"

"A-a way to kill you. Sorry Harry, I didn't know what you truly thought about Voldemort."

Harry waved him off in his excitement, "Considering everything that's understandable. But that means that there has to be the location of my horcrux somewhere in one of those memories you saw! I'm sure you've seen more than one judging from how you've been treating me, a supposed enemy. What did they all have in common?"

Neville thought carefully.

"Malfoy Manor. But that's no—"

Harry nodded fervently, "Yes, Malfoy Manor! It has to be somewhere there!"

"Harry, we're in Hogwarts right now.", deadpanned Neville with a grunt, "How will I get to Malfoy Manor and back in time?"

Harry's smile almost turned feral, "Portkeys. I'll make you one to the Manor. Just get back with my horcrux!"

As Harry's mindscape began disappearing, Neville called out, "What do you think it could be?!"

"Something sentimental! I don't have my memories, but I would like to think I'm not a facetious person!"