Harry knew he shouldn't have done it. He had been warned multiple times by Hermione, by Ginny, by all the workers in the Ministry who had given him the Time Turner in the first place. But, as he had been preparing to leave Sirius and Dumbledore in 1995 and arrive in 1981, a thought had occurred to him. And try as he might, he couldn't shake it.
He was on a mission to save as many as he could, to create new and better timelines for those who had been lost. He hoped his information had saved Sirius's and Dumbledore's and Fred's and so many others' in the timeline he had just left. His next stop before going home was 1981, to save his parents and create a timeline where he had grown up happy.
But then, the thought had hit him. There were still others he could save, other timelines that could be made better than his. One in particular seemed to have grabbed onto him and refused to let go.
Cedric Diggory. The other Hogwarts champion in the Triwizard Tournament and someone Harry had come to call a friend. A loyal and true companion who, as Dumbledore once said, exemplified the best qualities of a Hogwarts student. He had been murdered by Peter Pettigrew on Voldemort's orders right in front of Harry, the first casualty of the Second Wizarding War.
Harry could save him. He knew, technically, that he could save him just as much when he saved his parents. But he didn't know that for sure. This was time travel he was dealing with, an infinitely complicated branch of magic. Nothing was certain here. All Harry really knew was that he had a chance to save his friend. And once that idea hit him, there was no turning back.
So even though he had been warned again and again, he still adjusted the Time Turner's date before pushing the button, not sending him back more than a decade but just about a year from when he had been. 1994. Just before his 4th year at Hogwarts. The year where everything changed for him.
He landed in the dining room of Grimmauld Place, the place now much dustier and dirtier than when he had just left it. He wrinkled his nose. "Guess Mrs. Weasley wasn't overdoing it when she made us clean so much," he muttered dryly.
He had his cloak on, in case he ran into Kreacher. He had no idea if the House Elf would be aware of his sudden arrival somehow and, if so, Harry also didn't know if this version of him would obey Harry's commands. Best not to test it then.
Fortunately, he was able to leave the house without incident. The second he was out the door, he turned in place and disapparated.
Harry had only ever been to this place once before. It had been as a sign of respect, a chance to remember a fallen friend, one whose teachings had remained to this day in his career as an Auror. The house of Alastor Moody.
This is where it had all began really. When Barty Crouch Jr. had attacked Moody in the middle of the night, captured him, and taken his place with Polyjuice Potion. All of that had led to the moment where both Harry and Cedric had touched the Triward Cup. He'd always wondered why Voldemort had gone through such an overcomplicated plan to get him to the graveyard, but now wasn't the time to go over that again. This was the night that Crouch would attack. And Harry would be ready for him.
He settled down a little ways outside the yard, his invisibility cloak still over him, keeping an eye on the house. He didn't want to get too close as Moody probably had a bunch of security systems and booby traps in place. Honestly, Harry was surprised he hadn't run into any so far. He wondered what Moody was up to right now? Sleeping? Probably with that mechanical eye of his on watch duty. Harry snorted at the thought. He missed the man. It was thanks to Moody's lessons that he had made it through the war. To go down like he had…Harry sighed. He would never forget the sacrifice the man made. That any of the fallen had made.
One of those lessons came in handy right then as he heard a soft noise coming from behind. He'd heard many over the last hour, but this one felt different. He readied his wand, keeping an eye on where the sound came from but also watching closely where the sound probably would come next.
There! He spotted a dark shadow flitting between the trees. Crouch. Had to be. Harry watched carefully, seeing the figure move slowly and silently towards the house. As much as Harry wanted to hex him right then and there, he didn't have a good shot. He stayed still, patiently waiting for his moment.
Crouch continued to move, but clearly he was no amateur at this. He had obviously been made aware of Moody's tendencies, approaching the house slowly and methodically to make sure he never set off any traps or alerted the wary man. But Harry didn't think Crouch expected him to show up.
Here we go, Harry thought as Crouch made the final sprint to the front of the house, coming to a stop practically right on top of Harry. He couldn't have picked a better spot. Harry smiled grimly, before pushing his wand through the folds of his cloak.
That's when disaster struck.
His wand snagged on the cloak, stopping it for a second which was all the time Crouch needed, jumping forward and making his way past Harry into the yard.
No! Harry almost cried out, getting his wand free. He couldn't screw this up. Cedric was counting on him. So many were counting on him. Without thinking, he lifted his wand high and yelled out "Petrificus Totalus!"
The spell struck Crouch in the back before he could react, sending him sprawling into the garbage cans with a loud clattering noise. Harry winced, clenching his teeth. That was bad, wasn't it?
He saw lights flicker from the neighbors houses around the block but none from Moody's. That did nothing to make him feel better. Moody would never make his presence known like that. Harry knew him. He was coming.
Which meant Harry had to be faster. He ran towards Crouch's fallen body, yanking out the piece of paper from his robes explaining everything. He'd even added a special phrase so Moody wouldn't just destroy it for fear of it being cursed. He knew defeating Crouch here wasn't enough. He needed the Dumbledore of his time to be just as aware of what was coming as the one he'd just left.
"Ok, time to go," he said to himself, now pulling out his Time-Turner.
It was pure instinct that saved him, sensing the presence behind him before the spell shot out. He dove aside, rolling across the dirt, as the red light shot past him.
"Come out and fight, you coward!" came Moody's cantankerous voice.
"I'd rather not, old friend," Harry muttered. He made sure that the Time-Turner's settings were in place for his next, and this time final, stop before pressing the button. But just as he did, his instincts failed to warn him this time as another spell shot out, this time striking him right in the chest just before the Time-Turner activated, sending his stunned form spinning through the very depths of time.
Hello and welcome back to this story. Sorry for the long wait on it but here we are with the interlude sequence between the two main sections I have planned for this. As the ending goes, you can probably guess as to what will happen in the next segment. It was originally going to be different but this way seemed more fun. Stay tuned for more updates and thanks for reading.