The Good Race

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all related characters, locations, and events, are owned by Warner Brothers, J.K. Rowling, and multiple parties. No infringement is intended, nor should it be expected. Fair use only.

Mini-Series: The Good Race Chapter 2 - The First…

Harry sat down on the long bench, watching the food appear on the table before him. All around him students cheered, laughed joyfully, digging into the food with gusto. A small smile adorned his face as he too grabbed a plate. So much had already happened from the moment he awoke within the shack once more. Hagrid...Hagrid was Hagrid. The journey to Diagon Alley had been shorter than his first, with his knowledge of locations and his adult mind able to haggle and make deals with the best of them.

His wand...His wand sang to him as he held it in his hand, the room growing warmer with the energy of the reaction.

"Great things…" Ollivander had whispered, as Harry left the shop, and Harry couldn't help but agree.

Time travel...Time travel was not easy to start. True time travel, not the faux version offered by time turners, was even harder to stop. Harry hadn't ever really considered the implications of that, as he had stumbled along the path best left forgotten…

Ten Years from now, and so many lifetimes ago…

The war was over...Had been over...What little resistance was left had crumbled long ago, torn asunder by the onslaught wrought by Voldemort's merciless power. That Voldemort had moved on to the muggles, waging a terrible war that killed twice as many wizards than both Wizarding Wars combined, was the cherry on top of the 'Fuck Me Sundae' that Harry's life had long since become.

'But maybe not…' Harry thought as he tore through the brush.

His wand was charred, cracked, and sparked with every use. He could feel it cry out with each spell, but he willed it to hold on for just a few hours longer. He would have been there hours ago had he had full use of his left leg. Regardless he pressed on, the air taking on a quality he would likely never forget. The air felt light, liquid, and fresher than any air he'd ever breathed before. He could feel it…this journey was nearing its end.

It had started nearly two years ago, long after the muggles had begun their extermination campaign against the wizards. Hermione...dear Hermione and her books. What little hope left in Harry had been buried deep within her books. A small book, less than 100 tiny pages, yet each one was painted with the most intricate pictures. A thousand years of effort for such a small book, she had told him one night.

Hermione wouldn't tell him where she had gotten it at first, before admitting she had felt drawn to it during a raid on the Death Eaters, finding it tucked deep within one of their many libraries.

"It practically glowed, Harry." She had said, holding up the solid black book.

It had laid within her bag for nearly two years, before being stumbled upon once more, in a frenzied search for Phoenix Tears. It was slow going, originally written in old Latin, but for a mind like Hermione's, any challenge between her and a book was a challenge already beaten. It was all just a matter of time.

'Time…' Harry thought, pulling his mind from the memory.

The tiny book was about time. Time, and the creatures that had long since escaped it.

"Fae…" Harry whispered, as the air around him practically sparkled.

The Fae had left humans long ago, hiding deep within the forests, and jungles. As far from humans as they could be, building their grand halls, palaces, and whathaveyou. To track them down, Harry had needed more than a willful mind, or passion in his heart. Harry had needed desperation. He and Hermione had made this trip twice before and been rebuffed each time, unable to find what was hidden. Long days spent walking in circles, forgetfulness, even waking up a thousand miles away. But now…

'But now I have nothing left…' Harry thought as he crested the small hill.

The air was still, the sounds of the jungle now faded into background noise. It was so quiet that his ragged breaths, even the beating of his heart were loud enough to be nearly heard if you stood close enough. A dozen feet ahead of him was an archway of branches, covered in vines and moss. That it hung motionless in the sky, hovering twelve feet up, told him that it was anything but natural. He glanced around, considering his options, before deciding that he might as well. It took three tries, his wand sparking and sputtering little puffs of fire, till one of the many trees twisted, forming a natural set of steps to the archway. As Harry carefully made his way up, after telling it thank you, he tossed his wand aside. Where he was going, his wand was unneeded.

As he entered the archway, it felt as though he was walking through liquid ice. His body was frozen, as he pushed his way through, his eyes filled with darkness and stars. He kept moving forward, the resistance growing, but forcing himself to push further. Everything hung in the balance, and he would not be denied again. With a final push, he was free, able to once more rake in the ragged breaths that sustained him. He fell to his knees, exhausted, on the edge of consciousness.

"Harry Potter...The Boy-Who-Lived." He heard a soft, tiny voice.

Harry looked up, at last, finding a clearing of flowers, but no longer alone. The creature was small, no more than five feet tall. Its body was shimmering liquid glass, flowing, changing colors. Around it was a miasma of stars, sparkling and twinkling, moving around it. As he studied it, the flowing seemed to halt, moving backward, till it formed into a more humanoid shape and color. A young woman, no older than 20, stood before him, as naked as the cloudless sky above, flowing blonde hair down to her shoulders. If you had met her on the street, you'd have found her pretty, if her face had been slightly less ferocious.

Harry nods, as he clambers to his feet. "Yes...I-I'm Harry Potter."

"I know…" The creature replies. "I know also why you have come here."

He stared at her, watching her eyes carefully, looking for any sign that his luck would hold out.

"And will you?" He asks at last.

"Perhaps, Harry Potter." It…no…She replies. "What do you have to trade for this service?"

"I...I have nothing. My life, my soul, my magic. The clothes on my back. Everything else has been stripped away." He replies.

"I see." She replies, before reaching her hand out to the side, as a small butterfly lands upon it. "Your life is meaningless to me, Harry Potter. Even now you are dying, wasting away. A few more months, and you'd succumb. Your soul...Your soul is beautiful, but even one such as I have no use for it."

"Then…" He starts to reply before she starts speaking again.

"Your magic is powerful, but weak compared to my own." She says as the butterfly flits away. "I have no use for clothes."

"I...The world is ending. Please...Do it for everyone else then, if not for me." Harry argues, pleading.

The Fae studies him for a moment, before turning away, lightly studying one of the tall flowers. "Do you understand why you're actually here, Harry Potter?"

"What?" Harry asked, stunned. "Of course! I'm here to save the world."

Her laughter was like wind chimes, the soft tinkling of glass in a soft breeze. His breathing seemed easier, for a moment, before she turned back to him.

"The world, Harry Potter?" She asked. "No...You're here to save her."

Even as she said it, Harry felt the truth of the words settle upon him. As much as the world meant to him, it was Hermione that made the world worth saving. Tears filled his eyes as he was filled with memories of her. It was for her that his soul burned so brightly…

"It's true...Nothing else matters as long as she lives." Harry said at last.

"Then I have an offer, Harry Potter." The creature said as she turned back to him.

Her form shifted, flowing, growing, as she grew into a taller form. Her hair darkened, fluffing, matching the vision he saw in his mind almost exactly. Before him stood Hermione, just as she had the night of his 19th birthday, the first time they had truly expressed their feelings for each other. His heart thudded in his chest at the sight.

"I'll send you back, Harry Potter. Back to your 11th birthday, on the day you learned who you were to be." Not-Hermione said. "But in return, you will give up the one you love. Her life will no longer be connected to your own. So long as she remains out of your life, in all ways, the contract will remain intact."

Harry froze, agony in his eyes, and in his heart.

"The world, Harry Potter. Save the world, and you save the girl. She can be happy, a life lived well…but without you in it." The Fae said, playing with Hermione's hair.

Harry nodded, finally, accepting the deal. "I'll do it. I...I'll happily sacrifice my life with her just for a chance."

Silence filled the clearing, as the Fae studied his face. She walked forward till their chests were touching, staring up into his eyes. Those green eyes, rimmed with pain and fear and love. She lifted slightly onto her tippy toes, pressing Not-Hermione's lips against his own, a light kiss to seal the deal.

"Happily, Harry Potter?" She asked as she took a step back, turning away, walking back with a sway to her hips. "You're a terrible liar. Let's just hope that you're a man of your word."

With that, she clapped her hands above her head, and the world was torn asunder, shattering as though it had been nothing more than stained glass. Harry gasped, as the shattering reached him, his body frozen, shattering along with it. Pain…untold pain, unlike anything he had ever even imagined, exploded within him. A feeling of movement, as though flying at a great speed. Colors filled his eyes, and then darkness.

Harry knew no more.

July 31st, 1991

A loud boom echoed through the small cabin, shaking it by the foundation. Another boom and the door smashed open, letting the storm that raged outside now in. As Harry scrambled to his feet, he couldn't help but feel complete elation. He had done it…

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