Chapter 1: The bullet that tore through.

"Lumos." An older voice cried, casting dim light into an empty, cold room.

"Neat." Another voice spoke, belonging to an individual with a scarred face carrying a briefcase into the room. "You magic folk are like the Amish, no love for electricity."

"We are not averse to it, muggle." Remarked a second voice entering after him, belonging to a tall, bulky wizard hiding behind a cracked death-eater mask. "Unlike your non-magic folk, we just don't have to pay for it."

"Maybe if your lot had just shared that power to begin with," The scarred figure said, opening his briefcase to reveal a compact sniper rifle which he started to assemble, "Then war could have been avoided."

"Peace was never an option." The first voice said. He was the smaller of the two wizards, but his mask's design looked like a dragon. Streaks of his white hair hanging out its sides made the look appear electrifying. "Enough squabbling Goyle. Let us focus on the mission at hand."

"Yes, master." Goyle said quietly as he pulled out his wand."

"Already in position." The sniper said. "Do your magic thing."

Turning to Goyle said, "Prepare to disapparate. These ancient runes I'm about to inscribe will require a blood sacrifice that will immobilize me for a long period of time, and it won't take long for the aurors to trace where the bullet came from no matter how many barriers we put in place."

The old wizard then turned to the sniper and placed a crystal ball in front of the barrel of the rifle. He pulled out his wand and began muttering an indiscernible incantation. Black veins appeared emanating from the wand that slithered their way up his arm, heart, and face. Green flame burst forth on the marks curled around him, causing him to momentarily pause, but no screams of pain were made as he continued his chanting.

Out of the tip of the wind oozed a crimson ink which he began drawing intricate circles around the gunman and the crystal ball. As he finished, the lines of ink burned and left behind a jet-black powder that resembled ash on the ground. The sniper looked closely at it and tiny complex runic equations started writing along the lines drawn. As the pattern completed, the wizard's mask dropped and his face looked hauntingly reptilian similar to his mask, but he looked gaunt and lifeless as the same written runes on the ground appeared on his skin in the same manner. As the final words appeared around his bloodshot eye he screamed, "Ditans odium meum!"

The glow of the runes disappeared. The scarred sniper looked confused as if the spell didn't work, but his eyes were trained on the crystal ball. A foggy mist enveloped the sphere. A female figure appeared on the globe, waving her hand to an audience of happy-looking wizards and witches. They were in front of the Gringotts bank in Diagon Alley. It looked like there was a large crowd celebrating. They had just elected the first muggle-born magic user to become the minister of magic. The runes on the floor flashed a brilliant white, and then shifted like a snake moving and curling itself unto around the rifle. The runes reformed itself to write a name.

Hermoine Granger

The wizard gave a nod and as the trigger was pulled, he growled, "Exponentia pellentesque!"

The gun was fired, but the bullet hung in midair from the blasted barrel, spinning in place. The name on the weapon disintegrated and left behind a rest mist that slowly drifted its way towards the hanging bullet. The bullet then blinked out of existence. Cracks started appearing on the crystal ball. The last image they could see before it shattered was that of a smiling, bushy-brown haired female collapsing into the arms of those behind her. All that remained was red fog that slowly faded away.

"That's for my son, you filthy mudblood." The old wizard sneered, before collapsing in pain.

"Did it work?" The scarred figure asked. "What now?"

"Imperio!" Goyle shouted. The scarred figure's eyes clouded over and he stopped moving awaiting his commands. "You remain here, and when the other wizards come, kill yourself with your firearm."

"Yes, sir." The scarred figure pulled out his handgun and stood motionless.

"Are you alright, Draco?" Goyle said, turning to the slumped figure on the floor.

"I told you," Draco said, being helped up. "Don't use my name. Let's leave before Potter and his squad arrive."

Draco Malfoy, visibly scarred and burned from the ordeal, looked at the broken crystal ball one last time and shuddered before he teleported away with Goyle.

"Tch…" The scarred figure spat as soon as they were gone. "Should have known to not trust these shit-eaters."

With a sigh, he pulled out a small pouch and walked towards an empty fireplace in the room. Taking a pinch of floo powder, he sparked a bright magical fire and a face appeared in it shortly after.

"Marco, Report." The face in the fire said.

"Target eliminated." Marco replied. "The bastards thought they could frame me by trying that stupid mind curse thing you guys use."

"As expected,." The face said after a few seconds. "Hence why we had to chip you for your protection."

Marco rubbed the scar on the side of his head, then said, "At least I was able to confirm the identity of our friend, his name is Draco."

The face left for a few minutes before reappearing, and said, "This information has been processed to my superior. Come home and leave the rifle. We too would like the ministry to believe it was the work of muggles."

"How are we going to explain the magical assistance?" Marco continued to ask. "How are you getting me out?"

"Help is on the way." The face said before disappearing, extinguishing the flames.

A loud popping noise cracked in the air. A naked house elf appeared before Marco standing next to a dead body.

"Is that the sacrifice?" Marco said to the elf.

"We both are sir." The house elf bowed, then snapped its fingers teleporting Marco away. A few minutes later, a loud blast could be heard as the room quaked. The house elf pulled out a knife from the dead body. As the last barrier was getting stripped from the room, the house elf plunged the knife into its heart and fell to the floor as ministry aurors flooded the room.

***Four years passed since the assassination of the minister of magic. The divide that separated the muggles from the magic world would eventually disappear with her death. At first the fighting was done in secret, but soon it erupted into open full-scale war. The magical community thought they would be able to subjugate muggle forces easily. They soon learned however; they were not prepared. The muggles were not alone in their fight. Many global governments had magic users employed in their own ranks and equipped their military with weapons and armor enchanted with its own magical protection that rendered many spells useless against them. With the help of modern technology, and science combined with magic, many wizards and witches throughout the world were slain or imprisoned. The muggle world united as one to decimate what remained of the rogue magic users that would not submit. Much of the charms that helped hide the magic community from the muggle world were revealed by roving drones with special magical sensors that helped bypass illusion charms. Many villages and towns were raised to the ground with bombs enchanted to break through magical barriers. When the ministry fell, the survivors of England's magic community all fled to Hogwarts thinking they would be protected. But even there, they were not safe.

"Harry!" Neville Longbottom shouted. "Get up, mate!" He was sending powerful beams of energy from his wand. "We need you, Harry! The barrier won't hold for long…"

Harry Potter fell to the floor, looking dejected; his wand limp in his hand. "No headmaster, it looks like this is the end."

"Damn it, Harry!" Neville roared as bursts of explosions were assailed by the onslaught outside. It sent Neville to his knees.

"What can I do?" Harry slumped further into the floor, punching the ground with his fists. "I couldn't protect them. I couldn't save Ron. Ginny…"

"You were the boy who lived!" Neville screamed, rising up again. He roared as he poured more magic from his wand. "Stand! "We still have gardens left to tend! We cannot let our little flowers wilt away!"

"Neville!" Harry shouted, reaching out hopelessly. A stray bullet broke the barrier and struck Neville in the throat.

With one loud burst, an explosion shattered the barrier that protected Hogwarts, sending Harry and several other wizards and witches flying from the blast's aftershock. Harry's ears were ringing loudly as his vision refocused. There was a sudden silence in all this chaos. Then he heard it. The sound of marching feet. A wave of soldiers approached the castle grounds. Whatever resistance left was snuffed out and gunned down systematically.

"Stupefy!" Harry yelled as he ran away, but his spell had no effect. The soldier turned to shoot his gun in the direction towards Harry and let loose a hail of bullets. It caught Harry in the arm and shot through his wand, snapping it in half.

Harry in agonizing pain, looked all around him and the destruction that unfolded. Everyone was being killed without any mercy being shown. His heart dropped as soon as he caught a glimpse of his daughter being cut down by a gang of soldiers. Rage coursed through him as he screamed through tears. He needed a wand, a strong wand. Then he remembered.

Wounded and hurt, he haphazardly dodged bullets as he ran away from this scene of carnage to a particular location he knew too well.

"I'm sorry…" He muttered over and over, as he stepped over the bodies of his friends in his attempt to escape. Grabbing a stray wand along the way, he tripped and fell biting his lip until blood coursed down his chin. A stray bullet caught him in the leg. Someone flying overhead on a broom was shot down and landed next to Harry. With another apology, he took his chance and sped as fast as he could on this cheap, old Firebolt. He flew low, but zig-zagged his way towards his final destination.

"Accio Dumbledore!" Harry said aloud, and a huge casket was pulled from underneath the tomb of Albus Dumbledore. "Alohomora!" –he frantically searched around for it. As the soldiers closed in on him, he finally found it.

The Elder wand.

"Protego." A powerful shield appeared protecting Harry, blocking all bullets from touching him. The soldiers looked stunned. They haven't encountered a shielding spell this powerful before. At that moment Harry released his fury.

"Bombarda maxima! Sectumsempra! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedav…"

A bullet barrelled its way past Harry's shield charm and pierced his shoulder.

"Target down." Marco said into his communicator, looking up from his sniper position. "Leave him alive, but proceed with caution moving in."

The muggle incursion moved hesitantly closer to Harry Potter who just caused a massive outburst of magical energy to destroy a whole squadron of their soldiers. He fell backward on top of Dumbledore's body, breathing heavily.

"Protego!" Harry screamed over and over again placing multiple barriers around him. "Fuckin' twat!" Harry cried, gasping awake from momentarily blacking out. He turned to look at the rotting corpse of his old headmaster.

"If only you were here…"

Something fell from Dumbledore's cloak that Harry never noticed before. A familiar object he hasn't seen in a long time. The Time-Turner Hermione used in their third year to save Sirius and Buckbeak from their execution.

"Even in death, Hermione." Harry whispered.

A crazy impulsive idea came to him at that moment. Since the protective charms of Hogwarts were down, this was his only chance.

"Nebulus!" Harry said, as fog clouded the area, obscuring him from the battlefield. He grabbed the Time-Turner and fled, managing to disappear before the soldiers closed in.

Harry apparated to a place he visited four years ago. The place where he found the weapon that murdered his friend, Hermione.

"This is stupid." Harry whispered as he held the Time-Turner, his body screaming in pain. He felt that he had no choice.

He began turning the dial of the Time-Turner, but he did not stop. He kept turning it. A weird scene unfolded before Harry with each turn. Time moved in reverse, for the most part the room looked empty, but every now and then a figure would enter and leave. Mostly teenagers breaking into an infamous area to graffiti it. Harry grew fatigued with each turn, but if he stopped now he would not be able to change his grim future. He would go back four years to prevent this catastrophic mess from ever happening. He knew he was breaking every law there was in the wizarding world, but there wasn't a wizarding world left for him to care.

Harry knew the strain would kill any other wizard. He knew this was only possible because he has the Elder wand to help push him past his limits. He could feel that he broke through the seal that Time-Turners had been enchanted with to prevent wizards from going too far in the past. After a very long time, Harry finally saw it. The crime scene he investigated repeatedly. A muggle with a sniper, a house elf, death-eaters… Malfoy?

"It was you-u-u!" Harry shouted as he stopped spinning, but no sound came from his mouth.

Instead, it echoed and reverberated throughout his head. The figures did not seem to notice Harry. There was a mirror on the wall before him, but his reflection made him look like he was glitching out of existence. Harry looked down at his body, he seemed ethereal as if he was turning into a ghost. His body was losing form. With what physicality he had left, he moved toward the bullet that was now hanging in the air in front of the gun. His legs felt like they were slogging through slushy, rough terrain. As Harry reached out to grab it, he found that he could grip it. #

The bullet spun faster and bore into his palm. It burned intensely. With the bullet in one hand and the Time-Turner in the other, he brought them together. Glass appeared around him in an invisible barrier. A bright light erupted on contact, and they began to melt together alongside his body. Harry screamed, but the glass cage he was trapped in only shook violently in response. A vibration that took hold of Harry.

Every atom in his body magically exploded into fractals of himself then branched off into different directions. The shattering noise reached a fevered pitch. Harry had become sound itself. The only thought that remained was how he felt. The anger. The rage that increased in ferocity. It morphed the sound's frequency to grow uglier and discordantly louder. His tone would shock the fabric of time and space so that even God could hear his pain. When no end could be felt in sight, a void appeared where Harry's body used to be.

A rip in reality appeared through the space where Harry splintered off. All particles of himself returned together at once zooming in a spiraling motion like he was being drained back into place. But when he returned, a force barricaded him from moving. Sand fell from where the hole tore open above him. Sand that fell from nowhere onto Harry. The sand engulfed him in this prison he could not see. He was suffocating, the sand poured into his mouth, nostrils, and eyes.

I'm going to die…

I don't want to die…

"By my beard!" A voice shouted. "Arthur?"

"No, I'm…" Harry blinked, and he found himself somewhere else. Somewhere strange.

"Oh, It's you, Harry." The voice spoke softly. It sounded familiar and warm. "You're alright now. Relax. Take a deep breath. You're safe here with me."

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry whispered in surprise.

"Oh, the trip has left you a bit hazy." The old wizard said, helping Harry up onto his feet. "Give it a moment. You'll remember soon."

"What?" Harry looked around confused. He was in some kind of chamber, but the walls were adorned with something that caught his eye. "Time-Turners?"

"That's right, Harry!" He said as he patted the sand off of Harry's shoulders. "You've arrived back in the chamber of time. You tried to change the course of reality, yet again. This marks your six hundred and sixty-fifth attempt. Naughty, naughty."

"Wait, you're not…" Harry said, stumbling backwards.

The wizard smiled as he moved in quickly to hug Harry.

"Shh, shh, shh. Don't you fret, you mad lad. You're back here with me, your friend Merlin. Welcome home!