Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. Likewise, Prince of Persia The Sands of Time is copyrighted to Ubisoft Entertainment and Jordan Mechner. Copyright or trademark infringement is not intended.

Author's Notes: Erm, well... hello. It's been a while, huh? Sorry it's taken so long for this chapter to be put up, some things got in the way. I had a bit of writer's block about half-way through this chapter and I left it alone for a while. Then, for some reason, my interest in writing fanfiction -- and Harry Potter in general -- kinda went out. But it was for the best, I think, because you can only stay at such a level of interest for so long. But I'm back now. I'm not going to promise a regular update, but I'm really going to finish this. I've gotten further along in this fanfic then in any other I've ever written. As I write this, I wonder if I even have any readers left. Are you all still out there? Ha, well, once again I'm sorry, and I'll try not to leave updates so far in between each other. And, as always, please review. Thank you.

Harry's sleep was restless. He had several dreams, each of them revolving around the Dagger. In one, he saw the Prince using the dagger, fighting off enemies, those who were once people but had turned into demons because of the effects of the Sands of Time. He saw a dark haired, olive-skinned beauty wearing the golden medallion, fighting alongside the prince. Harry even saw himself weilding the dagger in battle, as he fought Death Eaters and sand creatures alike. Not only did he carry the dagger, but he also used a curved sword. He cut down countless Death Eaters and destroyed many sand creatures. He saw many battles between himself and the forces of evil.

Suddenly, Harry's dreams changed. He saw Voldemort before the Hourglass, the Sands of Time falling inside. He looked victorious, and Harry soon saw why; he saw himself cradling Hermione's unmoving form, his head bowed. Dream-Harry then lay Hermione down, and rushed at Voldemort. As he was advancing upon him, time stopped, and Harry saw that the future split into two paths. Harry watched as they unfolded.

Dream-Harry rushed at Voldemort and slashed him across his chest. Blood poured from the wound and Voldemort stumbled backwards. Harry then drove the dagger into Voldemort's torso. Voldemort seemed to be frozen in time and he slowly fell backwards, giving Harry the chance to move in for the kill. Harry first sliced upwards and Voldemort was cut into two, right down the middle. Harry then brought his sword down in a mighty blow, turning Voldemort into dust, and finally defeating him. Time stopped again and bended backwards.

This time, Dream-Harry stopped just as he reached the Dark Lord. Instead of stabbing or slashing, Harry held out the Dagger for Voldemort to take. Voldemort took the dagger and everything instantly went dark. Several visions flashed across Harry's mind, and in them he saw the same thing; death and destruction. Cities burned and people were slaughtered. Darkness and evil ruled the land. Voldemort had won.

Harry awoke, sitting up in his bed, sweat dripping form his forehead. It took him a moment to get his bearings. He looked to his right and saw Ron snoring loudly in the bed beside him. Sighing in relief, it wasn't until Harry raised his hand to retrieve his glasses that he noticed the Dagger was in his hand. Puzzled, Harry set the dagger down on his bedside table. How did that get there? he wondered. He remembered last night that he had put the dagger in his trunk and locked it inside. Shrugging Harry got up and headed out into the hall and into the bathroom.

After relieving himself, Harry stepped out into the hallway, only to collide with his bushy-haired best friend.

"Oh, so sorry, Harry," Hermione apologized, steadying herself. "I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going." Harry grinned.

"It's ok," he assured her as he looked her over. She was in a pink bathrobe and she appeared to be rather disheveled. "Got something on your mind, Hermione?" She didn't say anything, only looked at him curiously, like she was trying to figure out the answer to one of her Arithmancy problems. After a few moments of silence, Hermione shook her head.

"No, Harry. It's nothing." With that, Hermione stepped past him and entered the bathroom, closing the door. Harry stared at the door, wondering what their interaction had meant. Shaking his head, he headed back to his room to get ready for the day. He planned to talk to Professor Dumbledore today to tell him what he discovered about the Dagger and all the strange dreams and visions he had been having. Harry would also try to start researching the history of the ancient Persian empire and who the prince in his visions was and find out more about him and the Dagger of Time.

Some tiny voice in the back of his head told him it'd be a long day.

XXXX

A knock came upon the oak-wood door to the study inside of Grimmauld Place, causing Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to look up from the document he was scanning.

"Enter," he said. The door slowly opened and Harry Potter poked his head inside. Albus smiled. "Ah, young Harry, what can I do for you?" Harry stepped slightly into the room.

"I'm sorry, professor," he began. "I'm not interrupting you, am I?" he asked. Albus shook his head.

"Of course not, Harry," he answered and motioned Harry to close the door and take a seat in front of him. "Please, have a seat." Harry shut the door and made his way to one of the chintz chairs that Dumbledore seemed to favor. "I assume that you are here about your findings on the Dagger?" Albus stated more than inquired. Harry nodded, an proceeded to inform the headmaster all that he and Hermione had found out about the Dagger of Time and the apparent Prince of Persia that was connected to the Dagger. Harry also decided to tell the Headmaster about his experimentation with the Dagger.

"Um, professor," Harry began, looking down at the floor for a moment before making eye-contact with the wizened wizard. "I... I used the Dagger last night," Harry stated, a little unsure of himself. Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow.

"How did you go about using the Dagger, Harry?" Albus inquired. Harry shifted his weight on the chair.

"Well, after Hermione and I read the scroll, we were arguing whether or not to try it out or to ask you first. I was against it at first and Hermione was for it," Harry paused for a second and grinned. "Odd, I know -- but when I was willing to give it a go, she suddenly thought it was a bad idea." Shaking his head, Harry continued with the story. "Anyways, I used the Dagger to rewind time back about ten seconds. It was amazing, Professor," Harry confided. "Neither Ron or Hermione knew what I had done. In fact, everything acted out like it had before, but the second time, I agreed with Hermione to wait until I talked to you." Harry then went quiet for a few moments, thinking to himself. "Professor? Do you think what I did was a lie?" Albus looked confused by his question. "I mean, I rewound time to sort of correct something, so I went back into time to before I used the Dagger... Does that mean that I didn't really lie since I technically hadn't done it before? Or does it mean I did something wrong because I went back in time to fix something?" Harry now looked thoroughly confused by his own questions. Dumbledore smiled.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," he said, smiling at Harry. "Only you can decide whether you used the Dagger for good or evil. Because no one else will be able to know what you did before." Albus now looked sympathetic. "You'll have a responsibility now not to abuse the power of Time, and you will have to be the one to decide what defines abusing such a power." Harry looked startled at this. Albus just patted his back, saying, "Don't fear. I believe you'll make the right decisions." Harry nodded and stood up.

"Thank you, Professor." Harry shook the Headmaster's hand and left the study. Dumbledore watched his young charge leave, a small smile on his ancient face. That young man will do even greater things than he already has...

XXXX

Early that afternoon, Harry sat at a desk in the study of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, pouring of a rather old tome. The massive book was black with gold, flaking letter adorning the front. "History of the Great Persian Empire: 648 BC - 330 BC", the letters read. Harry was so entranced by what what he was reading, that he didn't notice Ron sit down beside him.

"Heya Harry, what'cha reading?" Ron asked, innocently enough. Harry jumped a little and turned his head to look at his friend.

"Just the history of the Persian Empire," he answered, and turned back to continue reading. Ron blinked. He rarely saw Harry so engrossed with a book. Ron usually saw Hermione hunkered down with her nose in a book. Shrugging to himself, Ron leaned back in his chair, bored, and began whistling a tune he had heard on the Wizarding Wireless Network. Harry seemed to tense up in his shoulders and neck, but said nothing to Ron. Ron kept whistling, more and more off key, and Harry seemed to tense up more and more, until finally, Harry sighed, marked his page in the book, closed the cover, and stood up with the book under his arm. Ron looked up at his best friend.

"What's wrong, mate?" he asked. Harry ran his hand over his eyes.

"It's nothing, Ron," he replied. "I guess I've been reading a little too long." In all honesty, Harry didn't really know what was bothering him and making him so jittery. Ron just nodded his head.

"Yeah, you shouldn't read too much, or you'll end up like Hermione!" he exclaimed. Harry gave him a small frown.

"There's nothing wrong with Hermione reading a bit," Harry said. Ron rolled his eyes.

"A bit?" he said. "She's always reading some pointless, 5,000 page book, and that's just her 'lite' reading!" Harry's frown turned to a scowl. He was about to retort with a scathing comment in defense of Hermione, but he stopped. Why am I so defensive all of a sudden? he asked himself. I really need to lie down...

"Look, Ron," Harry began, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes, "I just don't think you should talk about Hermione's habits that way. So what if she likes to read? How many times has her love of books gotten all three of us out of trouble?" he asked. Ron blinked and looked away, an expression of shame coming over his face. Harry took a little bit of satisfaction out of that. "All I'm saying is, she's our friend, and she derserves our respect. I'm... I'm going to lie down for a while. I'll see you later." Harry said, and walked out of the study and into the hallway. What Harry didn't see was the shadowy form of Hermione hiding behind the stairs, a small smile on her lips and a tiny twinge of red peeking around her cheeks.

XXXX

As Harry lay awake on his bed, his mind was full of a jumble of thoughts. His earlier talk with Dumbledore, his recent visions and dreams, Persian history, Hermione, they all filled his head until it became difficult to even think. Sighing in frustration, Harry sat up, looking around the room. The Dagger caught his eye and he reached for it. Harry unsheathed it and looked it over. He watched the Sand within move a little bit whenever he waved the Dagger. The chamber that held the sand was almost completely full. Harry wondered how many times he could use the powers of the Dagger before the Sands ran out. To be safe, he decided he'd only use the dagger when it was necessary to get out of danger.

Or, you could always take the Sand from a Sand Creature, murmured a voice in Harry's head that was not his own. Harry glanced around, merely out of habit. The voice somehow sounded familiar, and yet, foreign at the same time. As if he had heard the voice in a dream...

Or in a past life... said the voice. Harry tensed up. It was one thing to have a random thought say something in a different voice one time, but to have it reply to your own thoughts...

The Dagger, the voice whispered. Use the Dagger... Harry looked around once more before staring at the Dagger. The Sand within seemed to glow and pulsate. Harry, unable to stop himself, flipped the small switch with his thumb. The normal bending of time and space occurred again, but the scene changed from the room in Grimmauld Place to that of a desert in the dead of night.

Almost panicking, Harry twisted around, searching the landscape around him. Not a soul was in sight. The only source of light was the bright crescent moon and the stars in the sky. Harry shivered in the cold of the desert night as the wind blew across the sands.

"Well, I used the Dagger, now what?" Harry asked aloud, frustration ebbing into his voice. The was nothing for a few moments, but then Harry saw something start to appear. Like a mirage, the form of a man slowly materialized into thin air before Harry. The man finally became solid and Harry noted that the man was young, maybe only a few years older than Harry himself. And there was something about the young man that Harry found... familiar. The young man wore an outfit f white cloth with leather straps draping across his chest. Around his neck was a scarf of royal blue. He wore no headpiece and the young man's jet black hair fell freely, handsomely framing his face. A face, which Harry noted, was of an oliver tone. Harry soon realized that from this man's skin and garb that he was probably Middle-Eastern--if he lived a couple thousand years ago.

"Hello, young Harry," the man spoke. "I've been waiting for you."

"So you were the voice inside my head?" Harry asked. The man paused at this, seemingly to think over his answer.

"In a way, yes," he answered. "I am that voice. But, I am not just a voice inside your head, I am a part of you, Harry." Harry's eyes widened and the man continued. "In a way, I am you." Harry just blinked for several seconds.

"Wha- what do you mean you're me?" Harry asked, his voice almost trembling. "How can you be me?" The young man sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hand.

"It's difficult to explain... it'll be easier if you watch this first," the man instructed. He waved his arm in front of himself and Harry. The air seemed to shimmer and an image appeared. It was like a flat television screen hanging in mid-air, almost. Harry watched the image as a group of men on horses thundered across the desert. Soon, the group came upon a mausoleum in the middle of an oasis. Harry was witnessing the events of the past unfold before him.

Harry watched as the prince retrieved the dagger, the appearance of the vizier, and the prince striking himself in the chest. Harry felt a little twinge in his own chest and he absent-mindedly rubbed it. It was like the pieces of a large jigsaw puzzle were coming together very slowly. Somehow, Harry had seen this before. The young man (now confirmed to be the prince in the vision) waved his hand again and the image evaporated.

"That, as you saw, was myself. I am... was a prince of Persia. My father, when he was just a prince, went through a hellish ordeal that involved the dagger you now carry. It was my duty, as heir to the throne of Persia, to protect my kingdom and my people from the evil of the vizier, and to stop him from taking the Dagger of Time."

"Ok," Harry said. "How do I fit into all of this?" The prince sighed, a sad look on his face.

"When I struck myself in the chest with the dagger, I performed an ancient magical spell. You see, time and space are one in the same. You cannot change time without changing a certain point in space, and vice versa. The two are one in the same. So, when I performed the spell, I was erased from my time. But, since I changed the course of my fate, I changed the course of space and time itself. Somehow, the effects of my spell placed a part of me into you. We are essentially the same person, in spirit. And the vizier..." the Prince paused, looking way.

"What about him?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Your Lord Voldemort is the vizier reincarnated." Harry stared at the Prince, dumbfounded. "The vizier that night was actually Voldemort. His essence was sent into Voldemort when he died, years ago when my father killed him."

"How is that possible?" Harry asked.

"Remember," said the Prince, "Time and space. That evil had to be sent somewhere, and it was Fate that lead it into Voldemort. The events that seem like coincidence were written long before Time itself." All this information was almost too much for Harry to comprehend. He was, essentially, a prince of Persia, and the rival to the evil vizier, Voldemort.

"Wait, so is that how you can talk to me in my head?" Harry asked. "Because we're basically the same person?" The Prince nodded.

"Yes, though I had to wait until you came in contact with the dagger..." the Prince paused and then said, "Well, I didn't really have to wait, because I wasn't in time but in space, so I didn't age and--" at the look on Harry's face, the Prince stopped before he confused Harry (and himself) any further. "Anyways, now that we've finally made contact, we will truly be one in the same from now on. You and I will become the same person." Harry's eyes widened. "Oh, don't worry," explained the Prince. "You'll still be you, except that you'll have access to my memories and my abilities now." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Your 'abilities'?" he asked. The Prince smiled.

"But of course," the Prince answered. "You'll realize you have them soon enough." The Prince looked to the sky. "Our time is almost up"

"Wait, before we go," Harry said quickly. "Where's the Hourglass? Are there any Sand Creatures around in my... back home?" At this, the Prince bowed his head.

"The location of the Hourglass is unknown, but it is possible that Voldemort is in possession of it. However," the Prince continued, "Voldemort cannot unleash the Sands, as long as you have the Dagger. It is the key to unlocking the Hourglass. He does, however, have control of an unknown amount of Sand Creatures. So be wary of any attacks on you while at school." The Prince once again looked to the sky. "Our time is over, now, Harry. Be strong, and have faith in those around you, and especially in yourself." Harry nodded at the Prince. The Prince smiled and just as he came, he turned to a shimmering image and was gone.

Time and space bended and Harry was back in his room at Grimmauld Place. Once he got his bearings, he glanced at the clock to see how long he had been gone. Surprisingly (or not), no time had passed at all in his absence. Harry smiled. He did, after all, wield the power of Time.

XXXX

Hundreds of miles away, the Dark Lord Voldemort sat in his chamber, contemplating his next move in his war against the wizarding world. Only a few of his plans had gone in his favor as of late. His most recent plan, to aquire the Dagger of Time, had ultimately failed, but he did not come away entirely empty handed. As these thoughts passed in his mind, Voldemort's lips turned upward in a strange grin, though it held no mirth. His small, crimson eyes fell upon the large object in front of him:

The Hourglass.

XXXX

Author's Notes: Dun-dun-dun! So Voldemort has the Hourglass and some Sand Creatures. Things should get exciting soon... This chapter was kinda slow, I know, but I think it was necessary to connect the Prince from the prologue with Harry. Ah, and to clear up any confusion, the prince in the prologue and in this chapter is not the same one in the story Harry and Hermione read. That was the prince's father. Sorry if that confused anyone. If anyone is still confused or has any questions, just put them in the review or you can e-mail me (address is in my profile). As a side note, I was either going to make this chapter super long to make up for not updating, or not put it up until I had Chapter 5 written. I decided to just put it up as it is and you'll get the next chapter when I finish with it. ;) And please review!

Next Chapter: In the next installment, Harry learns the Prince's abilities, finally gets to Hogwarts, and battles Sand Demons! At least, I hope that'll be in the next chapter... I promise to try my best and have lots of action next chapter. See you then.