Author's Note:
Pleasantly surprised to find no objections to the pairings. Also both Bellatrix, Narcissa and Lily are the same age, for the purpose of this fic. I also conveniently deaged Harry to 18 because a 26 year old banging 16 year olds is creepy no matter the context. Also to that one guy who says canon Harry could, at 20-25, beat most wizards. Harry lost to Delphini Riddle when she was just a Hogwarts student or just graduated out of Hogwarts with no experience of a real war, goddamn it! I don't consider The Cursed Child canon but just saying. Experienced canon Harry was as average a wizard as they came, no matter how you tell me. Canon Harry could Apparate as a child! So the archwizard potential was there but Harry just wasted it away.
A Tale of Time Tunneling
Chapter 1:
Reorientation
Damn you Waffling!
That was Harry's first thought as he regained consciousness, albeit with a throbbing headache. His laws had never failed to screw Harry over, today was no different. Now he had to deal with some weird spaco-temporal displacement crap from whatever happened in that final fight with Voldemort.
Harry opened his bleary eyes to find himself in an odd storeroom of some kind. He could see piles of junk consisting of broken broomsticks, torn up textbooks, chipped potion vials, molten cauldrons and other odds and ends. The room was dimly lit with small candles upon a candelabra on an unlit fireplace in the corner of the room. The room itself had no discernable entrance or exit that Harry could see.
Immediately reorienting himself, Harry first checked for his wand only to realize that his original was likely destroyed. His eyes began to search for his true prize when he noticed the odd tattoo on his left arm of a triangle with an inscribed circle and a line passing through it. Reaching deep within, he also realized that his magic had thoroughly integrated itself with that symbol, a bond that went as deep as his soul.
Understanding lit his eyes as he willed for one of the Deathly Hallows and to his expectations, a long wand with elderberry carving appeared in his hand and a rush of pure unadulterated power filled his veins. Harry had to use every ounce of his occlumentic control to prevent himself from casting his more destructive spells from the powerrush he received.
After a deep breath, Harry nodded to himself and began his usual routine. He checked himself for external potion influence as well as tracking spells or other such unsavory influences. Upon confirming he was clean, he self-transfigured his face to look like a different person. He had given himself dirty blonde hair, and black eyes, with unremarkable facial structure to blend in with the crowd, so to speak. Afterwards he observed his surroundings.
The surroundings reminded him of his time in Hogwarts, the familiar stony structure in the walls, the medieval interiors, the armor stands and so on and so forth. He picked up the torn textbooks and checked the date of publishing of every book. The most recent he could find was one from 1971 indicating that he was at least in the seventies. He wasn't idiotic enough to cast a tempus as he had no idea what the temporal fluctuation could have done to that spell before he got his own temporal vectors sorted. Maybe then he would experiment.
Touching the stony walls of the room, Harry spread his magic, keeping it featherlight in case there were tripwire spells. He finally located a well of magic near the candelabra and noticed a lever mechanism on one of its three arms. Quickly disillusioning and silencing himself, as well as puting magical signature obscuring charms, he pulled the lever.
The wall next to the fireplace slid open and Harry was greeted to the sight of the fifth floor of Hogwarts, which he recognised as it was right next to the Prefect's Bathroom. He had never visited the Prefect's Bathroom before, even when Cedric Diggory had given him the password in his fourth year in the Triwizard Tournament. He had already cracked the riddle of the dragon egg and had done so in the Black Lake.
Staying in Hogwarts was risky especially since it was highly likely that Dumbledore was likely Headmaster. Dumbledore was a complex topic for Harry. They never really got along well after Harry's first year when he came face to face with Voldemort and his refusal to go back to the Dursley. Their friction hadn't really decreased and only heated up when Harry figured out about Voldemort's Horcruxes, as well as the one in his forehead. Dumbledore tried to do the morally correct things but Harry's morality was far more flexible and he didn't really see eye to eye with Dumbledore's plans. His tendency to keep secrets had only widened their rift and he had broken off in his fifth year to figure things out on his own. Harry did appreciate him for saving his ass during his fiasco to break into the Department of Mysteries but that was it. His sixth year wasn't even spent in Hogwarts as he had solo'd the Horcrux hunt before coming in contact with Gellert after the fall of Hogwarts.
Venturing silently, Harry passed a group of Ravenclaw students, none of whom seemed to give the slightest indication of noticing Harry. Harry quickly traversed to the sixth floor and saw a small room in the corner of his eyes. Horace Slughorn's Office. His theory was now solid that he was in the seventies as Horace had not retired. He could hear buzzing in Horace's office but decided not to venture in and see for himself and risk blowing his cover.
Harry eventually reached his desired destination on the seventh floor. A tapestry of a man, Barnabas, teaching trolls ballet was clearly visible. The Room of Requirements. He walked up and down three times requesting a room with an up to date calendar and clock. An empty room with a calendar and clock hung to one of its walls was immediately formed in response to Harry's wish.
3:34 P.M. February 25. 1976.
After an appraising expression and requesting the room to change into one of reinforced steel with an escape route, Harry cast a wanded tempus. The same date was shown, indicating that his magic had updated to his new temporal vectors. He quickly cast a previously obsolete charm that revealed his age to be 18 rather than the previous 26. Which meant that he had been magically reverted back. Most annoying but at least he was still an adult, though barely.
This was the problem with using time-turners that wasn't told to Hogwarts students who received them. Though Harry hadn't personally received one, Harry did know the basics of Chronomancy and how to avoid temporal curses from a crash course from his mentor. The user of the time-turner had to be hyper-vigilant of their own temporal vectors lest they screw up and end up deleted from the universe. Time turners provided to Hogwart students were a regulated version with a fixed amount of time rewinded. The many precautions on the users end weren't needed as the device itself took care of those but the unregulated versions in the Department itself were carefully moderated by professional Unspeakable trained to deal with fluctuations.
That prodded his brain another thought. It was a no given that the Unspeakable would have noticed that massive change in temporal waves with their specialized enchanted equipment and that meant that they were undoubtedly headed to Hogwarts. That meant he had to get out of here. He would have rushed out immediately but had one more thing to check. The Room of Hidden Things. The Ravenclaw Diadem.
He immediately requested for the Room of Hidden Things and rushed over to the mannequin that he remembered had the diadem. He got a nasty shock when he found it to be missing. That meant that many things that he would have to pontificate later. He quickly summoned as many galleons and other monetary currency into a transfigured pouch with an extension that would last for months with the power he poured into it along with the focus being the Elder Wand.
He requested the room to provide him an exit that led to outside the castle, using a passage that opened near the forbidden forest at the edge of the powerful wards. The room complied and opened an exit for him. Immediately Harry was treated to the sight of the opening wall of Hogwarts' perimeter and the lush green of the forbidden forest. Oak, birch, sycamore, and many trees grew, forming a thick canopy that didn't allow a shred of sunlight to pass through. Harry also knew that many magical herbs grew in the forest that he often came to pick for personal potion ingredients. Rather than waste more time, Harry quickly walked to the edge of the wardlines as a shiver passed through him from leaving the powerful anti-disapparation wards. Without a second glance Harry apparated away with a powerful crack.
Albus Dumbledore was not having a good day. Though he rarely had many "good days" in the recent few years after one of his students decided that becoming a Dark Lord was a perfectly acceptable profession.
Tom Riddle. A boy of infinite potential, one who had the ability to change the whole world if he wanted to. He had done exactly that, except not in a way he would have approved of. A boy he had a hand in nurturing to reach his full potential had just decided to begin his fanatical crusade against muggleborn witches and wizards.
It all began when Albus had decided to deny him the position of professor of the Defense against the Dark Arts in the summer of '68. How could he not upon seeing his very appearance and aura. Gone was the charming and handsome youth he had seen during Tom's time in Hogwarts and replaced was this inhuman visage that was beginning to shape. Crazy reddish-eyes, his paling skin, an almost inhuman color and his blackened aura all pointed to numerous dark rituals that boosted his power. The moment Albus laid his eyes on him, he knew that Tom had gone too far. The barely hidden crazed smile on his countenance was far too noticeable to Albus' experienced eyes. His Aura alone rivaled Grindelwald in his prime or maybe even surpassed him.
He knew that if he granted him the position, Tom would use it to recruit students to wage a war for power. So Albus did his best and rejected him. As if to spite him, Albus was sure he had cursed his defense position somehow as he could not keep a single defense teacher for more than a year. Fortunately he'd managed to crack it but only after 8 years of research into obscure curses when he finally found an Armenian one that resembled Tom's curse, indicating that Tom's knowledge of magic had grown leaps and bounds during his travels. The grim picture only continued by his formation of the political group of Knights of Walpurgis in the shadows. Then the war began at the start of the new decade, a celebrated year for most wizards because magic was believed to renew itself at the start of each decade. Of course that wasn't exactly true but magic did reinvigorate itself at New Year's Eve as calculated by an ancient warlock, the same day of Tom's birthday.
But amidst the celebrations, an entire settlement of muggleborn witches and wizards had been slaughtered to the last, mauled by werewolves and tortured by men in black cloaks and masks, a smoked symbol of a massive skull with a snake out of its mouth hanging overhead. And just like that the Blood War had begun.
Dumbledore had formed his Order of the Phoenix to counter his moves but the grim pictures still rang true. Entire families were being killed in the blackened night. Terror was spreading faster than an out of control fiendfyre. The government was paralyzed as most of the heads of departments were pureblood wizards, since the majority of the pureblood families were the ones causing the problem in the first place. Though Albus did not know which families were allies to Tom but he did have his suspicions.
Albus was used to the Great War with Grindelwald, one which had supply lines and bases, one where the law was on his side, one where he had the support of a majority of the ministries of the world. This was different. This was as if Magical Britain was being eaten from the inside. Torn and sundered, and on the edge of total collapse. A Civil War. Albus was holding on, but for how long, he did not know. His own influence was waning as there was a new Dark Lord powerful enough to challenge his magical prowess. He still remembered the furious duel he had against his old student during one of his raids. Tom had fled but he had enough of a picture to know that he was on the same level as Grindelwald. Grindelwald had his experience of fighting Titan level wizards like Rasputin, also known as the Russian Menace and Lawrence Fontaine, the then Headmaster of Ilvermorny, both archwizards who were killed in combat against his old friend. For Tom to equal him now without that experience was nothing short of astounding. He had no doubt his former student would surpass him if the war continued at the pace it was.
He had been drowning in paperwork, trying to block the activity of Tom's "Knights" from inside the ministry, who were pushing laws to weaken the already unsteady foothold of muggleborn in Britain when he received a visit from a group of Unspeakables in his ministerial office who wished for him to grant them access to Hogwarts. He didn't like their reasons either. Temporal fluctuations could mean only one thing. Someone was playing games with time. Those never ended well for anyone. Especially at a time like this, in the middle of the civil war that was stewing. Unfortunately by the time they got to Hogwarts, the magical signature was in the wind due to Hogwarts' powerful wards and ambient magic. Things were moving too fast for his liking and he didn't like that one bit.
Diagon Alley was bustling with excitement as its traversers bounced from one shop to another. Numerous businesses filled with customers could be seen even far into the distance. The streets were full of people meandering about but one among them stood out.
Harry, disguised as he was, couldn't help but let out a nostalgic smile after so long. It had been a very long time since he had seen this sight. Harry could still remember his first visit to the alley, accompanied by Minerva Mcgonagall. It was in fact one of the memories that he used to this day to form his patronus. He could remember his first visit to Gringotts, a ride to the Vaults, the final letters of his parents, his visit to Flourish and Blotts and the books he'd nabbed, his first owl in Eeylops Owl Emporium, and finally his most cherished one, the visit to Ollivanders, to get his beloved wand.
His replacement wand, Aspen, Dragon Heartstring, 12 inches could never compare to his original even if it was made by his teacher. The Holly, Phoenix Feather, 11 inches was the wand made for him. He still remembered the warmth that spread through his soul as he grabbed that wand, like a missing part of him had been reunited. The Elder Wand also felt the same after he collected all the Hallows but it was too recognizable, mostly by Dumbledore to risk. He'd also be lying if he said that he didn't miss his original. He knew the Ollivanders were allies of Dumbledore and the information that he got the brother wand to Voldemort would undoubtedly reach Dumbledore's ears but damn the consequences.
So once more Harry stood in front of the worn out dusty shop with peeling gold letters, Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
The show display was as Harry remembered, with a single wand on a royal purple cushion, Garrick Ollivander's first wand, if his word be believed. A small doorbell rang as Harry entered the shop. He could see the hundreds of boxes on shelves each containing a unique personality in them. Gellert had been an excellent wand maker as he's been trying to replicate the Elder Wand and had passed a bit of that passion down to Harry as well.
Just as Harry was about to look around for the owner, a voice rang from his blindspot, "Good afternoon, how may I help you?"
Harry turned to see a familiar mop of silver hair and a pair of sterling silver eyes. Harry had to suppress a small quirk of his lips, he still remembered how Ollivander had startled him when he had first been here.
With a small smile Harry said, "Why, yes. I happen to be looking for a wand and I do hope you'll provide me with a satisfactory one."
"I can never answer that question for it is the wand that chooses the wizard and not the other way. However, no customer has ever left my shop unsatisfied, of that I swear on my pride," Ollivander replied playfully.
"I think this is not your first wand Mr…" the wandmaker trailed off leadingly.
"Harry. Just Harry. And no, this is not my first wand. My first wand was shattered in a duel." Harry replied firmly. It was true, his first one had been destroyed in a duel.
Ollivanders eyes softened as he began pulling his measuring tape with a tap of his wand. He replied, "Most unfortunate. It pains me when wands are destroyed like that."
The measuring tape zipped around as a comfortable silence lapsed in the shop. While Harry didn't know specifics of wand-making, Gellert had told him that the body structure of the wand has significance in determining the length of the wand received by the wizard. There was an arithmetic formula but Harry had never really bothered about it.
After he was done, Ollivander handed him wands one by one. Some deflated, others placidly fell, some gave rotten scents other rigid denials. This continued for nearly half an hour. Finally, Harry felt that Ollivander approached with a nondescript dusty box and handed him a whitish wand of eleven inches.
With a smirk, Harry felt the rush of power like he once had all those years ago. The very air around him vibrated as the wand purred a soft hum of a phoenix's song after being held by its true master.
Ollivander's eyes widened, not having expected such compatibility, especially with that wand but managed to contain his surprise to a small murmur, "Curious."
"What is?" Harry askey almost expectedly.
"Holly, phoenix feather, 11 inches. I had thought you as a dragon heartstring customer," Ollivander deflected his question deftly.
"Well, I don't know enough about wandlore to understand that but I do like to think of myself as a bit above ordinary," Harry joked with an upward quirk of his lips.
"I do not doubt that but that will be 14 galleons and 7 sickles," Ollivander smiled knowingly while his eyes drifted to Harry's wand.
Harry sighed quietly. He had known that phoenix feathers were expensive as he had bought some for his eyesight correction ritual back in his third year. This was a lot of money but worth it to get his original wand back. Deftly twirling the wand between his fingers, Harry withdrew his transfigured pouch and paid the requisite amount and left the shop without another word except a quiet, "Thank you".
Ollivander observed as "Harry" left his shop knowing that he would have to have a small chat with his old friend again.
Unfortunately Harry didn't have much money left except for a small capital amount. He could use this money to buy potion ingredients to sell potions to shops. He was still a master potioneer, one of only a handful in his past world who had successfully brewed Felix Felicis. But for that Harry needed to get a workspace and more importantly, a secure base of operations. That meant that he'd have to build one from scratch. That would definitely take a significant amount of time. He still had to try finding out whether Tom had made Horcruxes or not and so many other items on his checklist. Especially since February 29, 1976 was fast approaching. Harry had read about the infamous attack on Hogsmeade by Voldemort and his Death Eaters, the shot that had made Voldemort feared throughout the magical world.
The British Ministry was trying to keep a front that Voldemort was not as threatening a wizard as people thought even after his might had been proven multiple so Voldemort had brazenly attacked Hogsmeade. It was the first time such a bold attack had been made, especially in a place as safe as Hogsmeade. He remembered reading that nearly thirty to fourty Hogwarts student were murdered in broad daylight, indicating that no one was safe from his wrath and led people to calling him you-know-who and other such asinine nicknames when people who brazenly called Voldemort in public where murdered or tortured in creative ways. It was a devastating bit of psychological warfare that Dumbledore had been unable to contain because by then everybody was afraid.
If Harry could successfully repel this attack, he would be able to thwart Voldemort's plan then he wouldn't have to deal with such asinine names anymore at the very least.
If the Hogsmeade attack didn't happen, well he'd just be a face in the crowd. For now he had a base to build and a plan to make.
Two days later,
Outskirts of Lancaster,
Two restless days and Harry had finally a base of operation. After hours of scrounging, he had managed to find an abandoned warehouse that he'd given a bit of a makeover and put up wards and other defenses as well as muggle-repellent wards. Now he wasn't homeless. He already had set up cauldrons and bought ingredients to start selling potions. He couldn't sell to official business' as he didn't exactly have an identity like an apparition license much less a certified mastery but he could sell to shady business in Knockturn Alley at the very least, even if the gain would be far less. He'd probably be able to bribe a few ministry officials to get him an identity and take a few mastery tests then.
For now he had decided to travel to Albania to see whether he could check the original location of the Ravenclaw Diadem and see if it was still there or not. Unfortunately he's never visited Albania before that meant that the closest Apparition point would have to do. Harry had visited Greece with Gellert before so that was probably as close as he could get.
Apparition across countries could only be done by a select number of wizards because of the sheer demand of magical power, fortunately an area that Harry was not lacking in. His bigger concern was whether he'd like the answer he found or not. If the diadem was not there, then Helena never hid it there or Tom took the diadem but didn't put it back at Hogwarts. If the diadem was there then it likely wouldn't be a horcrux but Harry then couldn't confirm whether Tom had horcruxes or not. It could be that Tom made Horcruxes but never made the diadem as a Horcrux as he couldn't coax that information out of Helena. Harry could go to Little Haggleton but didn't want to do so immediately before Tom's plan to attack Hogsmeade in case they got into an altercation and he lost his element of surprise. He also didn't know how the Hallows would react to one another, especially from another timeline, possibly a different reality due to the diadem horcrux being missing, so Harry played it safe and went for the diadem instead.
Hours later, in a forest in Albania, one man would find a silver diadem in a hollow willow tree much to his chagrin.
In a dimly lit room, a hooded figure was seen kneeling down in front of another sitting on a royal red velvet throne, postured like a king swirling a glass of red wine.
"My lord, the Unspeakables of the Time Chamber were quite rattled about something this afternoon," the kneeling figure reported.
The enthroned figures' eyes gleamed an eerie red, indicating his interest in the topic. He let out a quiet hiss as he drank his wine regally after swirling it in his cabernet glass.
"Go on."
Author's Note:
Alright the setting is done, plans are made and action scenes are going to happen. Get ready for a bumpy ride because the next chapter is going to be jam-packed. Anyways, it's 1 A.M. and I feel like going to sleep is my next priority. This is an AU Harry time-traveled into AU, if you can't guess already.
Please Review as it helps a lot!
