Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.

A/N: Ah hah, I got stuck at a friends house because of sleet, so I wrote this while my friend was asleep. I don't know how great it is, but hey, that's why i have you guys! Alright, I'm experimenting with different writing styles.. So if you are confused about anything that I write, just tell me and I'll try to sort it out. The way this is going to be… through most of the story, Harry will be consciously talking in first person between parts of the chapters. So.. Yeah, anyways, Here's chapter two for you guys who've read this so far!

SUMMARY: In the end, almost everyone that The-Boy-Who-Lived loved is gone and departed. Harry's becomes desperate to make things right, and in the process of trying to re-do his whole life, he's thrown back in time. Not only is he in a place and time that he vaguely remembered from his childhood, but also, he is now in the body of a muggle man who was supposed to die. So, what's a man to do, when he has an extensive knowledge of the magical world, the future, past, present, and is just supposed to be a normal un-magical muggle? Well, there's only one way to find out!

Thanks to dodgeram91, Duos Gurl1, and Angelic Bladez for the wonderful reviews!

(I've changed the name of this story.)

Iron Butterflies

Ch.2

It was almost over.

Five of the Horcruxes had been destroyed. Providing that Tom Riddle's Diary, and Marvolo Gaunt's ring had been destroyed previously in time, Harry had to only get a hold of the last four.

The first to track down had been Salazar Slytherin's amulet. That, though, Harry realized had been in Grimmauld Place. All he had to do was find Kreacher -- and that hadn't been the easiest task.

After Sirius' death, the Most ancient and noble house of Black had been Handed down to Narcissa Malfoy. But because of the exchange of property, Bellatrix had been living there, hiding out with some other Death Eaters. And Kreacher only knew her as his master.

All in all, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had snuck into the ancient house and retrieved the amulet from Kreacher's… nest, and Harry had given his Godfather's murderer what she deserved -- although she did get away alive.

The second horcrux that they had to find was the trophy cup that had been given to Tom Riddle for special services to the school (which also happened to the one that practically caused Hagrid to be expelled). That had been an easy one to find -- but it had proven difficult to destroy. Much research and sleepless nights followed until they found a spell strong enough to destroy it; this caused half of the Gryffindor Common Room to explode.

The third had been Hufflpuff's cup. Harry had to track down, blackmail, and threaten Mundungus Fletcher until the thief gave him the cup.

After those had been destroyed, that left one more to be found and destroyed.

Nagini.

But to find the snake, The-Boy-Who-Lived would have to find Voldemort; and Harry did just that; but he had a little plan up his sleeve, in case all failed.

"Crucio!"

"Stupefy!"

"Diffindo!"

Harry had tried to dodge the last spell sent towards him, but with his luck, he found himself slamming roughly into a stone wall as the severing spell sliced open his left shoulder. He was tired of playing these games, as Voldemort so kindly put it.

He knew he wouldn't make it. His body was exhausted, he was loosing a lot of blood, and his magic was drained.

But it can't end like this, Harry thought frantically as he attempted to dodge another crucio thrown his way. Not here, not now, not like this! If I'm going to die, I don't want it to be because of magical exhaustion and blood loss! I need him to use Avada Kedavra!

"Stupid child. You are no match for me," a cold, sneering voice reverberated around the stone chamber.

Harry clenched his teeth together in anger, keeping himself from saying anything stupid.

"What's wrong, dear Potter? Don't you wish to say your last words before you depart to join your friends?" Unconsciously, tears welled up in the boys emerald green eyes. Cold laugher rang in his ears, "So, boy. How does it feel to be the murderer of your friends? Family, even?"

How does it feel…

"Don't you dare call me the murderer!"

"Oh? Then who led their friends to their deathbed?"

To be the murderer…?

"I'm not a murderer! I'm NOT A MURDERER!"

No… I'm not. Or at least, I don't think I am. The murderer is that filth…

"I'M NOT A MURDERER! I'LL NEVER BE A MURDERER!"

Voldemort is the filth that has shadowed my life…

"Are you sure about that, Potter?"

He took away my parents…

"What are you playing at!"

He took away my Godfather and friends…

"Your death."

It's funny really… because I still despise him for taking away my childhood…

"Then end it."

Now, where did that come from? The last time I checked, I wanted to live…

"Fine. Avada Kedavra!"

Green light flew towards the boy who hadn't exactly expected it so soon. He had thought Voldemort would play his games for a while longer until he was bored. To be completely honest, Harry had been bluffing, hoping for time -- time for his plan.

Never underestimate an enemy, he learned at that moment. Oh, what would Mad-Eye say?

He wasn't ready for this, he realized, but he had to give his last hope a shot. He always knew that there was a chance that he would lose the final battle between him and the dark lord, but he hadn't exactly thought it to be so soon in his life. He was only twenty-one for crying out loud!

But it was time. As the spell approached him at an alarmingly fast pace, Harry began whispering in parsteltongue an incantation he'd taken a year to find and memorize. This was the trick up his sleeve.

The spell he was trying to use was something that had been forbidden by the founders hundreds of years before. It was considered dark magic, and it was something to not be meddled with. Anything could go wrong with it, and the results could be devastating. But it was all that he had left. If all went well, the incantation would send him back in time into his own body when he was a child. Even though Harry didn't want to be a child again, having to deal with the Dursley's, he was willing to give everyone a second chance at life.

All too soon, the spell hit him, causing his repeated incantation to break off abruptly.

The light enveloped the boy's body, causing him to jerk forward like a rag doll. A loud, whooshing noise erupted in his ears and the light blinded him until all he could see was an eerie, glowing white. He could feel a tug at something inside of him, but it wasn't unpleasant.

The last thing Harry thought before he knew nothing else was, Damn it! It's too late! The spell wont work now! It needed to be finished… but who am I kidding, did I really think it would work in the first place? He would have laughed at that, knowing that his luck was a bad as an angry hippogriff. But he briefly felt a sense of loss. So this is what it's like to die? Mum and dad died like this… so did Cedric, Hermione, and Ginny… It isn't so bad, right? No pain… no nothing… just blinding white light and a tugging sensation. I can rest now, too. No more worries, no more Boy-Who-Lived. More importantly, I'll be with my friends. I'll get back what I lost anyway…

I'll get back what I lost…

Is anything that simple?

"Alrigh' ya' bastard, ya' wanna' play it rough, I'll show ya' rough!"

It was dark, and the surrounding walls of the buildings that enclosed the alleyway caused the air to feel stifled. Four figures were huddled up in the very back, trapping a fifth occupant that stood languidly against the brick wall.

"I din' say I vanted to play it rough," the figure said in a slurred, German accent. "All I said vas tha' I didn't van' none of this beating around the bush shite."

"Who said we was 'beating 'round the bush'?" One of the smaller, more ratty looking men asked from the right of the group.

"No one said 'nething about tha', he's just pullin' yer leg," another snapped.

The man with the German accent chuckled unconcernedly, "Could ve just get to the chase, here? Vha' is it tha' ya' vant, ya' damn filthy rats."

"Fine, 'ere's what we wan'," the man who looked like the leader of the group took a step forward, his face mere inches away from the others. "We wan' you to leave this place. You's causin' us a lot of trouble, and we have a feelin' that you's the one tha' killed Danny."

"Oh?" The German man brushed a strand of blond hair from his face, "Any proof?"

There seemed to be a bit of shuffling, then the ratty looking man shoved the blade of a knife towards the German's face. "Reckon tha' this is yer's," he proclaimed.

With a raised eyebrow, the man responded, "Ja, tha's mine alright."

"So ya' be admitting to killin' 'em, then?" Sneered the leader.

"I didn' say that," he slurred slightly, shifting his stance.

"They dun' call you the Winte' Raven fer nothing'," the head of the group snarled. "You killed 'em, and ye know it!"

"I might," the other man said thoughtfully. There was a pause in which it was completely quiet, then he added, "And if I did, vhat vould ya' do about it? I hear that your little group're against killing."

"We'll make an exception," yelled the ratty man again, before he lunged forward with the knife.

There were a few outburst and a startled yelp from the German man before the knife flashed dully as it was slashed downwards.

A minute of shuffling, yelling, and utter confusion and chaos, the four men stepped back from the German who lay silently on the ground, unmoving as a pool of blood slowly spread out from underneath him.

"Wha' the hell didja' do, Dagget? Dja' kill 'em fer?"

"I--I--"

"Pick tha' knife up and get yer arses outta' here! Somene' might'a heard the brawl and called the bobbies on us!"

Without needing to be told twice, the men grabbed all evidence of their encounter, except for the lifeless body of the German, and left the alleyway.

As they walked away, they didn't see the blondes body jerk violently for a few seconds before a dull green light enveloped the form and they hardly noticed wind whipping around violently, although they were in an alley. All they cared about was getting out of there, so they were oblivious to the crimson blood disappearing as if it had never been there.

And looking back… I can't help but wonder… was that fate..?

Or… was it simply just a slight coincidence..?

Swoo-ooosh! Pitter-patter, swoo-ooosh!

Rain?

Swoo-ooosh! Pitter-patter, swoo-ooosh!

Rain and… traffic?

Groggily, a lone figure lying sprawled out on the ground opened his eyes and stared up at a dreary, grey sky above. Drizzle fell from above, coating the alleyway's cobblestone ground and mixing with the trash from the overflowing bins in the back.

It smelled horrid, and the stench of wet dog didn't help to dampen that effect.

Harry Potter groaned loudly as he sat up, feeling as if he were on fire. His body ached, and he thought it a miracle that he was able to move. Voldemort sure did do a number on me, he thought to himself, wincing at the thought. So why didn't he kill me…?

But… if I remember correctly, he did kill me…

"He… did kill me," he muttered out loud to himself. "But then… does that mean that the spell worked?"

He used his palms to push himself off of the ground, but stopped before he could fully stand up. His eyes bulged as he stared at his hands -- which were slightly smaller than usual, and extremely tanner. His eyes then traveled up along his right arm, where they locked onto a tattoo of a name… or logo that had somehow mysteriously been etched into his skin.

"Winter Raven?" He stared dumbly at the words that were imprinted into his arm before blinking slowly. "Since when did I have this corny name on my arm?"

Harry stood up abruptly and fumbled about in his pockets, looking for his wand so that he could conjure a mirror for himself. He was distressed when he was unable to find his precious wand, and nearly shouted out in frustration.

"Vat the bloody hell happened!"

Harry nearly bolted out of the alley when he heard someone shout from someplace above him, "Shut up, you filthy son of a bitch!"

Harry's eyebrows rose at the language being issued at him, and especially at the thick, slurred words. It was obvious that the person was drunk. He decided to not comment, as he could easily be trespassing on someone's property, and if he said anything, he might get in trouble. Not that he really cared.

Just then, he realized a very foreign color of hair dangling in his eyes. He tried to pull it away from his face, but then he realized that it was attached to his skull, indicating that it was his own hair. With wide eyes, he ran his hands along the long, lanky, and very greasy hair that seemed to be a blonde color that would rival Malfoy's. What the… this isn't my younger self's hair….

Harry walked over towards one of the trash bins where one of the lids had been knocked over and had collected water. He looked down at the surface and nearly shouted in shock at the person that stared back at him.

Whoever it was had dark, tanned skin, large grey blue eyes, and semi-long blonde hair that looked almost white. The face was very slender compared to his own face with almost a girlish look to it, and the shoulders that slumped forward had a slightly feminine look to them too. Not to mention he actually felt taller than normal. The teen-- no man, looked innocent.

He wasn't even wearing his previous clothing or anything related to what he wore from the Dursley's. At the moment, he was wearing dirty, frayed jeans, and a black tee without sleeves. And he found it odd that he could see at distances just fine without glasses on…

It's times like these that I wish that Albus were still alive…

Harry jerked away from his reflection, utterly confused and bewildered. He did not normally look like that-- and wasn't the spell supposed to take him back in time and throw him into the body of his younger self?

The boy stopped in mid thought as he spotted the date on a newspaper laying on top of a pile of trash. The date clearly said 'July 29th, 1987." and was readable, despite it's damp and rumpled state.

Well, at least I'm back in time…

Harry staggered and limped out of the small alley so that he could get a good look at his surroundings. Mad-Eye had always said to analyze the situation first before you act; and since Harry had nothing else to do -- as his wand wasn't to be found -- he would just have to figure out where he was.

The street before him was full of cars zooming here and there, back and forth along the two lane road. It looked as if he were in a large town or maybe even a small city. He wasn't too sure.

It had obviously been pouring outside, since the roads were slick with water and even his own clothing seemed to be drenched. Large puddles of water lay on the sidewalk that wove about the many shops in the surrounding vicinity.

Harry scratched his head slightly, unaware of the cliché way he did it. But Merlin, he was confused! Where had he been taken? More importantly, who was he?

He looked around again, noticing that he'd never seen the place before. It didn't look familiar at all -- except he knew it was somewhere in London; hence the newspaper.

Harry walked forward a bit, trying to take in as much of his surroundings as possible, but because of the drizzle and haze, it was hard to make out things from a distance.

"Ah, screw it," he cursed, then he realized something else that he hadn't noticed earlier. As he spoke, he had a bit of trouble saying some words -- it was as if his accent had changed. He shrugged, then took a deep breath, knowing that he'd find out what had happened sooner of later. It'd be best to just apparate away to someplace a lot safer. It'd save him time, in any case.

Harry slipped back into the shadows of the alleyway and closed his eyes, picturing the outskirts of Hogsmeade village in his mind. He spun on hill, and with a small 'pop!' he was gone.

Hogsmeade was the only place that Harry could think of going. Even though Hogwarts hadn't been as safe as said, he still felt the safest around the old building; but as he appeared with a pop on the outskirts of the village, he was startled when he saw that children… or, teenagers, were swarming about the place, laughing and talking to one another without a care in the world.

He hadn't seen anything like that in a long time, except for when he, Hermine, and Ron had gone to a small muggle festival to celebrate the engagement of the other two in the trio. But after that, things had been dark and children were never allowed out on their own.

To just randomly plunge himself into something such as that, was, well, hard to absorb. But all in all, he was just glad to still use magic, as he found his apparating to be slightly draining, but still working full force.

Harry, wandless and not quite ready to approach anyone in his current state, decided to walk around and try to find out some things.

Nearby, there were two girls walking towards the village at a very slow pace. Harry decided to eavesdropped.

"Did you see the Daily Prophet today?" A brunette asked.

The other girl with black hair tied back in a braid giggled, "Yeah. They spotted The-Boy-Who-Lived, again! There was even a picture and everything!"

"Wasn't he so adorable? Wasn't he with his Aunt Petinny, or something? But I didn't fancy the clothing Potter wore that much though, but muggles can be a tad bit on the off side," the other chided.

"I agree…"

Harry couldn't hear any more of their conversation, as they had just left his hearing range.

The Boy-Who-Lived looked around for a moment, then spot the shrieking shack. Unconsciously, he allowed himself to drift towards it, feeling oddly comforted by the place, as it had been the first place he'd met his Godfather at. It used to be a favorite thinking place of his after Albus had died.

He walked up to the fence and lent against it, his forearms resting against the ancient wood as he peered through the many trees to see one of the broken windows of the shack. He sighed slightly, wondering how he would take life now that his plan had semi-worked. He had a lot to re-plan, now that he was back. He smiled wistfully and said in a singsong voice, "What to do… what to do…"

In the beginning…

I had so much to live for…

Then after so long, I felt as if my life were falling apart…

Then I seemed to give up after the death of my friends…

That is… until I found out that I had a chance…

A chance for another life…

One with more meaning…

A life that held so many more opportunities for me…

And the others…

I thought it would work right…

But then I should have known better…

Now…

I'm stuck…

In a body foreign to me…

But this brings even more opportunities, I realize…

Yes… thinking back, I know…

That this was fate.

A/N: Ahhh… there it is, chapter two. Hm… interesting, no? Now, I had to go back and fix a lot of things after I wrote it the first time.. So if some things sound odd, please tell me so I can fix it. Anywho, thanks for reading my story! And.. Now I'm off to go do something else! Take care, everyone. -- Min