Hey, Hey...Well, it only took a MONTH, but I've finally updated. I blame writer's block, I also blame pure and simple laziness, and plus I was writing other things. You've gotta clear the mind sometimes, it just gets cluttered. Enjoy, though I hope you're not disappointed. And also, sorry about the atrocious delay in updating.

XXX

Hindsight

Dumbledore's office began to dissolve. Harry had the sensation that he was flying backward very fast. A blur of colors and shapes rushed past him, his ears were pounding, and then he felt an incredible pain. As if something was fighting him, as if something was blocking him. It burned through him and he tried yelling, but he could hear nothing.

The world suddenly came into sharp focus. Harry gasped and dropped to his knee, the small hourglass slipping from his lax grip and striking the bare stone floor. He heard the tinkling sound of breaking glass. He looked down and felt a wave of despair and failure. He had broken it; he had destroyed his only hope.

He grasped at the broken glass, the sharp edges pricking his fingers and drawing blood. He ignored the pain. He picked up the pieces and clenched back his despair.

"Reparo." He cried. Nothing. "Reparo!" Nothing. "REPARO!!" He bellowed, putting everything he had into the command. Nothing. The glass was still broken and the sand that filled it sparked in the sunlight. He hung his head in failure. Why?

He looked up and around. He was still in Dumbledore's office. Had nothing happened? He got up heavily, grabbing his cane and lumbering to the window. He looked out upon the green empty lawns and shook his head. Nothing seemed different, nothing seemed changed. He hadn't gone back in time.

How could nothing have changed? How could he not have gone back in time. He remembered Hermione doing it. He remembered her using the Time Turner. It wasn't a hard device to use. What had happened? What went wrong?

Who was the duplicate? The thought suddenly struck him. He felt a momentary sense of fear. Could it have been an imposter? Countless spells and potions rolled through his mind, it could have been someone. Someone who was pretending to be him, so he could do what? Harry glanced about nervously. How could he have been so stupid not to have challenged him? How stupid could he have been? His mind had been so wrapped up in the thoughts that he could change things that he hadn't realize that there were still dangers about. There were still people that wanted him dead.

What did the imposter want? What was he doing here? "I have to have a couple or three words with a girl." The words rumbled through his mind. Ginny. Fear suddenly filled him. He hastened to the door and clattered down the stairs.

His leg spasmed with pain and his breath came in ragged gasps. He was still not well, his body still hadn't fully recovered from his ordeal but he ignored it all. He ignored the pain flaring in his leg, the harsh breath, and limped as fast as he could Fear filled him, he pushed it away. Ginny might be in danger.

He racked his brain trying to remember where she was. He got to the ground floor and looked around frantically but could see anyone. His heart was beating frantically and a gibbering fear filled him. Ginny. Where was she? He saw the doors of the Great Hall opened and he heard voices.

Harry grabbed his wand and began limping toward it as fast as he could. The pain was nearly unbearable, but he ignored it.

"No!" A voice cried. Harry peeked into the open door and nearly staggered back in shock. He was standing beside a freshly laid table, Ginny staring at the duplicate.

They're alive! Those murdering bastards are still out there!"

It dawned upon Harry. He remembered this. This was yesterday. He stepped back from the door, feeling dazed. He did go back in time. Relief filled him. Relief that Ginny wasn't in danger. It was quickly replaced by despair. He had broken the time turner. He had ruined everything.

"Where are you going?" Ginny cried. In a moment he would come out those doors. Harry looked franticly about and saw a broom closet not far away. He quickly limped there, cursing as old brooms and mops fell out. He shoved them back in and closed the door behind him.

Harry came out of the Great Hall first, limping furiously. Ginny grabbed his robes. Harry watched in fascination as they began arguing only mere feet away. He shook his head. It all felt strange, to be watching a fight that had occurred just the day before. Was he really hiding in the broom closet yesterday, watching.

Harry watched and began to see what he had done wrong. Ginny was furious. Not just the yelling angry kind of furious. But the burning almost emotionless rage kind of furious. Harry leaned back in the closet, sighing. He hadn't seen it. He hadn't seen any of the rage that burned with in her the day before. He had been so caught up with his own anger, his own plans of revenge that he hadn't though of what was happening to her.

She talked of peace of happiness as a coveted dream, one that she wanted to share with him. Yet all he could think about was his own pain and his own need for revenge. She had lost far more than he did, family. She had lost all her brothers, her parents, everyone she loved.

Harry sat down upon a small wooden stool. They say hindsight was twenty twenty and they were right. He should have dealt with the whole thing a little more differently. He still wanted revenge and he still wanted all the Death Eaters dead, but that anger had faded to slow burning embers.

Harry leaned forward and peeked out of the door. "You deserve better. You deserve far better." Harry said and abruptly turned and hobbled away.

"You've already brought pain and hurt." Ginny whispered. She stood there for a moment then slumped to the ground crying softly.

It was like a physical blow to Harry. What had he done? What had he caused? He tried to get to his feet, to get to her and tell her he hadn't meant those things. That he was sorry, but his leg had stiffened. The earlier exertion had pushed it too hard and now it was rebelling. He cursed softly and grabbed a set of shelves to lift himself to his feet.

"Is Miss Ginny alright?" A squeaky voice asked.

Harry managed to get to his feet and he peeked though the open crack of the door. Ginny was still sitting upon the floor, but she was now hastily wiping away her tears and trying to smile. Dobby had showed up, he slowly patted her back, saying something to her. Ginny laughed, Harry could tell it was forced.

'Its nothing Dobby. It's nothing." Ginny got to her feet, still with the strained smile on her face. "Come on, let's go and prepare things for tomorrow." She took Dobby's hand and walked off.

Harry stepped out of the closet, watching as Ginny and Dobby disappeared down the stairs leading to the kitchen. He stood there for a moment and then walked to where Ginny had stood before, upon the floor were barely noticeable drops of tears. Harry shook his head and knelt down before them, using the hem of his robe to wipe them away, as if they were never there.

How could I be such an uncaring fool? Was revenge all that I care for? Harry thought, standing back up. His leg flared with pain, but he tried ignoring it. He sighed and ran this hand through his hair. Maybe this was for all the best. Ginny deserved a better life than I could offer her. She deserved a good and happy life, not one with a person who would always be haunted by the death of his friends and the torment he had face. Those memories were scared into his mind and Harry didn't think that they would ever be erased.

She deserved far better than what he could offer her. Harry nodded to himself. It was all for the best. It hurt and he knew he would always hurt for her, but she deserved better.

Harry began walking toward the stairs and then he realized that he was almost a day back in time. He had been going for Dumbledore's office, it was his retreat. His place to hide and to think, but it was already occupied. Harry stood there for a moment, at a lost as to what to do.

He paced around for a moment and then he proceeded down the halls toward the classrooms. He walked through the empty halls, the sounds of laughter and chatter filled his mind. He blinked away the tears and looked into empty classroom upon empty classroom. For the first time he wondered if they would ever be filled again. would the students come back to school?

He didn't really think so. So very few had survived that day. Less than a hundred had managed to find refugee and safety, but even among those survivors many were scarred by the sights they had seen and the horrors they had witnessed. A whole generation of witches and wizards killed and broken.

Harry clenched his fist. He felt the earlier rage and anger coming back. They would all pay for what they had done. He entered an empty classroom and sat heavily upon one of the seats. He felt his rage burn, but sitting in the classroom brought up other emotions, other memories.

Instructions, reading, talking with friends, all the memories came pouring back. His rage fluttered away and Harry felt a great emptiness. He saw the faces of Hermione and Ron, her studious taking of notes and the bored look on Ron's face at another boring lecture. Harry dropped his head upon the desk and let out a gasping sob.