September 1, 1991

Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. Covering one side was the image of an ancient old man, his white beard falling past the bottom of the frame. His blue eyes twinkled from behind a pair of half-moon spectacles. Written in fancy script at the bottom was 'Albus Dumbledore.'

"So, this is Dumbledore," Harry said, turning the card over in his hands. A bunch of facts filled the card.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Dumbledore," Ron scoffed. "Hey, can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa—thanks."

Harry turned the card back over and saw that, to his astonishment, Dumbledore had disappeared. "He's gone!"

"Let's pray he stays that way!" Ron snapped.

Harry nodded firmly.

…Wait. What that hell?

Ron and Harry jumped up, their young bodies falling into their best approximations of the battle stances they had once known instinctively. They eyed each other, shocked.

Harry barely bit back a gasp as he took in what Ron looked like—again. He was tall, thin, and gangly, with big hands and bigger feet. His ears stuck out and his nose dominated his face. His eleven-year-old body still didn't quite know what to do with all the extra length that Ron's twenty-one-year-old self would layer with muscle. His jaw had yet to balance out his ears and his cheek bones were hidden by baby fat. His hair was still a vibrant red but fell floppily into his eyes, hiding their sharp blue. Freckles littered his face with cheerful abandon.

Harry, thinking distantly of what he'd looked like at eleven, bit his lip and looked away. He felt even tinier than he remembered, shorter than Ron by at least a head. His brushed a hand through his hair, feeling the uncontrollable mess that only some extra length had ever tamed. His awful Dursely glasses still covered his face, which was doubtlessly pale and thin like the rest of him. He looked down at his clothes, horrified to see Dudley's castoffs again. He practically swam in them, only serving to make him look smaller. How had no one ever picked him out as a neglected child, Harry thought, momentarily stunned, if not an abused one? Gods, what had been wrong with the adults in his life?

Wait, no. Focus, Harry chastised himself. Focus. He swept his eyes up again, taking in the familiar interior of the Hogwarts Express. The sound of the train, rocking gently as the tracks ticked away below the dull carpet. The smell of children and teenagers packed into small spaces, laid over with the distinctive not-scent of freshener charms. Ron Weasley, staring at him in complete captivation from such a young face.

Oh hell, Harry thought, bordering on hysterical. We're back in time. How had that happened? The last he remembered was—dying. So many people, dying.

Ron made a weird crossbreed of a sob and laugh. He dropped the wand Harry hadn't even consciously catalogued him as having raised. Staring at his own hand, Harry belatedly did the same. Obviously, just because their bodies were now young and their surroundings familiar didn't mean that their instincts were prepared to leave behind a lifetime of memories. That, at least, was a comfort. So was not being dead, Harry allowed wryly.

Swallowing, Harry took a step towards Ron, who bit back a flinch. Harry paused. "It's okay," Harry said, "It's me, Ron. I swear on my magic."

The tension went out of Ron's shoulders. "Oh, thank the Gods."

With a wavering laugh, Harry pulled Ron into a hard hug. He relaxed himself only when Ron's long arms settled around his waist. For a moment he simply buried his nose in husband's—his once-husband's? Did time travel negate a marriage?—neck and breathed in the comforting smell of soap and skin. For that moment he let himself be grateful. Sure, they were inexplicably eleven in every way but mind, but they were alive when they should have been dead. That was something, at least.

Yet, Harry thought, it was not enough. Pulling away, he set his hands on Ron's shoulders and looked into his blue eyes. "Neville," he said.

Pain flickered across Ron's face. Harry sighed. With gentle hands Harry pulled him toward the seat he'd staked for his own, clearing the candies to the side. The sight of their spoils only served to remind Harry just where they were. Shaking his head, Harry buried the anxiety he felt building in his gut and adjusted them so that Harry could lean back against the window with Ron's head against his chest. He ran his fingers through Ron's soft hair. Struggling for confidence, Harry began to speak. "We're back. Everything is going to be okay, now."

He would make sure of it, Harry swore. If it was the last thing he did. If they truly were back in time, then this was an unprecedented opportunity. Harry just had to believe that; what other explanation could there be?

Ron snapped to attention. He angled his head back to catch Harry's eye, his fists clenching at his sides. "No." Ron growled, "It's going to be better. Starting with that bitch."

Harry made a commiserating sound. There were honestly half a dozen people Harry thought could be described by that term, so he wasn't entirely sure which one Ron meant. He supposed one would be as good as any.

Harry frowned. Could their enemies have returned as well? It seemed possible. He had no idea what force had brought then back, nor what the constraints of the magic were. It certainly wasn't anything he'd done. His only experience with time magic came from that adventure with the time turner in fourth year. Whatever had sent their memories back a decade had to be far more powerful than a gadget meant to help a young girl pad her timetable.

"Do you think we're the only ones back?" Harry asked in a rush. Is Neville back? He thought, his stomach dropping out. He couldn't voice the question. He couldn't imagine having to survive this new twist without his other husband. The Fates couldn't possibly be so cruel—

Harry paused, thinking about what he'd been through. Yes, they could.

"Merlin, I hope not," Ron muttered. He turned his face into Harry's shoulder, as thought that might somehow protect him from the possibility.

"What do we do?" Harry asked softly. He didn't mean to ask, to sound so pathetic, but the words slipped out all the same. It was slowly dawning on him just how incomprehensible their situation was.

Ron didn't answer at first. "We wait for someone to find us," he said at last.

Harry bit his lip. Part of him rebelled at the plan. He'd never been good at waiting, and the thought of Neville alone somewhere on the train made his gut twist horribly. But there was enough sense to Ron's words that eventually Harry made an agreeable noise and settled down.

There was no use in stirring the cauldron if they didn't even know the ingredients. If this was truly a chance to do over their mistakes, they had to be smart about it.

As time slipped by Harry watched the countryside flying past the window disappear, the neat fields bleeding into raw forest. He and Ron began to make their way through a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, savoring the taste of the candy. Treats like this were tricky to come by in their time. They were picking through the most iffy-looking ones when a hesitant knock rattled the compartment door.

Sharing a look with Ron, Harry called for the knocker to come in. A teary round face poked through the door. Wet chocolate eyes regarded them dolefully. "Sorry," the eleven-year-old Neville said, "But have you seen a toad at all?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other. They could both tell when Neville was faking tears. Neville only did so when wanted something or when he wanted to know something. They had quickly learned to pick out his tells to preserve birthday surprises and Christmas presents.

The last time he had been in tears—the night of their deaths, Harry thought faintly—Neville hadn't been faking. This time, he definitely was.

Relief crashed through Harry like a wave breaking on the shore.

"That depends," Ron started, staring at Neville with a wide grin. "Are you still planning on naming our first born after that damned thing?"

Neville beamed. He scrambled to shut the door behind him and flung himself into their arms. Harry and Ron caught him easily, Harry whispering praises to every deity he could think of. Their Neville was back! They settled quickly down beside each other, and, for a moment, everything was sweet and perfect as they basked in each other's presence.

"I was so worried," Neville said. "I thought I might be the only one back—" the rest of his words were cut off by a yawn. Spontaneous time travel was pretty exhausting, Harry thought. If it weren't for his fear of nightmares, he might have given in to a nap himself.

Ron pulled out his wand, smiling gently. "Here, love, let me conjure up a blanket."

But just as Ron was about to cast, the compartment door slid open again. Hermione Granger stood there, an eleven-year-old once again and already wearing her new Hogwarts robes. She was framed by the doorway like a B-movie villain trying to make a dramatic entrance.

Neville stiffened, hand reaching for a sword he wouldn't wield until seventh year. Biting back a sigh, he took up his father's wand while Harry already spun his holly-and-phoenix feather between his fingers. Ron let a poisonous expression drift across his face, fingers tightening around the ancient wand he'd had for his first two years.

Note to self, Ron thought, eyeing the wand. It only worked about half-well for him, being a hand-me-down of some dead relative. They had to go shopping for some proper equipment as soon as possible.

Hermione, oblivious to the sudden shift in the atmosphere, continued to stand there with a superior look on her face. "Has anyone seen a toad?" She started, her chin tipped up arrogantly. "A boy named Neville—" Hermione's eyes widened as she noticed Neville. "Oh, hello. I thought I lost you."

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," Ron sneered. Logically, he knew this girl was yet innocent of what the Hermione Granger had done in their world…their timeline? That didn't stop the rage he felt boiling in his gut, however.

In any case, Hermione ignored him. She was looking at the wand in his hand. "Oh, are you doing magic?" She asked, perking up immediately. "Let's see it, then." She sat herself down expectantly. Her words sounded like a command.

Ron smirked, a wonderful idea swimming to the fore. "All right, then."

He cleared his throat and pulled out Scabbers. He almost dropped the rat right there, as realization descended that Peter Pettigrew had been in his pocket, just like the first time around. From the brief shock that skittered across Harry's face, he wasn't the only one who'd forgotten about his odious little pet, either.

However, Ron had been through a war, a rebellion, and was now just getting the hang of time travel. He was a bit harder to shake than he'd been as an actual eleven-year-old. Summoning up his magic, he cast a silent sleeping charm on the little bastard to keep him from causing any trouble until they figured out what to do with him. That managed, Ron went back to his fun.

Discreetly pointing his wand at Hermione's face, he cast a silent color spell. Between one blink and the next, Hermione Granger was bright canary yellow. Behind Ron, he could hear Harry choking on a laugh, nearly wrecking the whole thing. Ron bit back his grin harder as he caught Neville's elbow digging into Harry's side, turning the laugh into a cough. Hermione glared at the both of them for being a distraction. Ron grinned winningly at her before dramatically clearing his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow," he chanted to a charming singsong tune, "Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!" Ron waved his wand for added effect, but, of course, nothing happened. Pettigrew stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" Hermione asked snottily.

I'm a first year, Ron spat in his mind. Color charms weren't even taught until second year. Only the age no one could read on his body had let him pull his little prank off.

"Well, it's not very good, is it?" Hermione said smugly. Her hands perched on her hips, she drew her shoulders back confidently.

Harry would have liked to hit her, then. The muggle way, just the once. He just might have, too, plots and schemes be damned, if not for the fact that he could barely keep a straight face when met with her yellow one. Not laughing took all his considerable willpower. As he exchanged glances with Neville, he knew he wasn't the only one feeling it, either.

In the background of their mirth, Hermione rambled on the way she had the first time they'd met her. By the time she was done the flush on her cheeks made her face look a bit orange. Harry finally broke into a suspicious coughing fit that even Neville couldn't silence. Hermione glared at them, her cheeks reddening more, which just made it harder for Harry to get a grip.

Finally, Ron took pity on him. "Well, you already know Neville," Ron said genially, "And I think that is already too much." Hermione gasped, surprised and offended, but Ron merely rolled his eyes. "Leave, please."

"Well, I never—"

Harry joined Ron. "And you never will," Harry drawled, channeling his inner Draco Malfoy. "Get out of here before we catch your godawful attitude." Hermione looked near tears when, after a stunned beat, she finally fled the compartment.

Once they were sure that she was well and truly gone, they broke into laughter and turned back to sit with Neville. He sent them a quelling look from his place reclined on the seats. Harry felt himself blush. Alright, so maybe Ron's prank was a little juvenile. So be it. They did look eleven.

He smiled innocently at Neville. Ron mirrored it quickly.

Neville snorted. "Don't give me those puppy dog eyes. You two are as subtle as a brick through a window." He smiled. "But you're my bricks, so come sit down and keep me warm."

With matching grins, Harry and Ron did as they were told. In minutes, the trio was cuddled up under a huge, fluffy grey blanket transfigured from Ron's jacket. At about three, they finally shrugged out of their nest to don their uniforms, not wanting to be rushed as they had the first time around.

Harry hummed happily as the semi-thick autumn robes settled over his shoulders. He should have done this immediately, he thought, screw looking like a suck up. Anything would have been better than wearing Dudley's castoffs. He almost felt like a proper wizard, a proper person, again.

All that was missing was his wand holster, he thought critically. There was a pocket in the robe for it, but not in a convenient location for a quick draw. Placing his wand there went against his instincts, so instead he kept his wand in hand.

Neither Ron nor Neville missed how Harry kept toying with his wand. They cast each other concerned looks but didn't say anything. Harry had always been the wary one of them and they knew better than to try and settle him. It didn't help that Mad-Eye Moody had mentored Harry all throughout the War, either.

Ron was taking Neville through the finer points of not having a toad when the compartment door slid open yet again. Three boys entered, just as before, but not the exact same three boys from the first time around.

Ron shook his head, chuckling. "Draco, you just gave yourself away by not bringing Crabbe and Goyle."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Possibly, but at least I didn't turn someone yellow."

"Accidental magic," Ron shrugged innocently.

Draco smirked, ready to continue their bickering into infinity. Blaise Zabini placed a stilling hand on his shoulder before Draco had the chance. "Focus," Blaise said, making sure to catch the eye of all those in the compartment. "Remember what we have the opportunity to do." His voice was as sweet as poison.

Ron and Draco gave brisk nods.

Harry stood up, bringing himself to stand shoulder to shoulder with Ron. He drew Neville with him. "Do you know if anyone else made it back?"

Theo Nott smiled from his place at Draco's left shoulder. The expression was an alien thing on his typically solemn face. "We rounded up those back in our year. They're waiting in our compartment."

Draco turned, smirking over his shoulder. "Leave your things and come with us."

They made quick work crossing the train, Draco leading with Blaise to his right and Theo on his left. Harry, Ron, and Neville mirrored their posture. Now officially in the 'Slytherin' section of the train, a set of compartments way far in the back where the prefects never really bothered to visit, there was a certain order to things. As the one with the most political clout and a legacy of Slytherin House, Draco acted almost like an immunity against inane people trying to get their attention. Even the draw of the Boy Who Lived wasn't enough incentive for nosy students to upset the hierarchy.

It was something Harry appreciated about traditional, most often meaning Dark, purebloods.

When they reached the proper train car, Theo made them pause outside the door. He rightly took exceptional pride in opening the compartment, revealing an expertly expanded space that could have comfortably fit a third of the in-coming first year. He gallantly allowed Harry and the others to enter first, accepting their awe and thanks with a pleased little smirk.

It really was a nice piece of work. Harry could feel the hum of the numerous noise-canceling and protective charms like vibrations against his skin. Of course, Harry would have expected nothing less from the future youngest charms master in British history. Looking around, Harry catalogued the occupants.

Lavender Brown had her blond hair long and curly again, her pale skin free of scars. However, there was no carefree happiness in her brown eyes this time. They were hard and calculating, the eyes of a long-time, well-read reporter. The eyes of an enraged war veteran. Next to her sat Parvati Patil, who had never lost her long black hair but once again wore it plaited as she had at eleven. Parvati had a glare in her dark eyes that belonged to a young, brilliant equal-rights lawyer murdered mysteriously at the height of the Light Purges.

Beside them, Dean and Seamus conversed quietly. Dean had lost the peaceable atmosphere he'd once radiated. Now even the way Dean sat made him look dangerous. It was a common trait of all the soldiers Harry had trained. Seamus mirrored his boyfriend, chuckling meanly at something Dean said.

On the other bench was Daphne Greengrass, long blond hair falling artfully around her cold blue eyes. Not much had changed about her, at first glance, but there was a certain violence to her posture. She had been another of Harry's top fighters in the Resistance. They exchanged nods before Harry moved on to the girl beside her.

Susan Bones stared out the window. Her expression was as fierce as her fiery red hair in the reflection. There was no doubt that she was out for blood in a way she had never been in her past life. She had been a healer, Harry thought. Neville had worked with her at Saint Mungo's before all hell broke loose.

Next to her, Draco and Blaise had taken a seat, and next to them, Theo. Neville, Ron, and Harry took the seats opposite them.

The silence was deafening as everyone sized each other up. Harry was tired of the tension. "I am not becoming a Gryffindor," he said. Several heads snapped to him.

"I don't give a damn!" Susan growled. She stood sharply and drew her wand. Her brown eyes were red-rimmed. "I just want Hermione Jean Granger to suffer!"

Daphne pulled her back down to her seat. She drew soothing circles on Susan's trembling shoulders, her gentle actions mismatched with the fury on her face. "Don't mind her. Terry didn't recognize her when we found him on the train."

"Oh, that's tragic," Lavender said sympathetically. Lavender had no idea if Dennis was back, either. "But now's not the time." Her eyes narrowed, growing colder. "We have to focus on what we do as our next step. Which means Harry is right. The Sorting is our next step."

The room went quiet as everyone thought this over. The train ticking over the tracks began to sound liked a timer ticking down. No one seemed to want to voice the obvious.

Finally, Dean leaned forward. "Slytherin," he stated simply.

Harry felt Ron and Neville tense on either side of him, probably on instinct. Even if they had grown close to certain members of the House once Lucius Malfoy turned spy, they had still locked up many Slytherins while hunting down Death Eaters. It would be a rough adjustment, but…

"It is the most political house," Draco agreed. "We'll hear ever whisper and rumor. Once we climb high enough, the hierarchy will keep people from making whispers and rumours about us. It should be easy to make it to the top of the ladder, too." After all, Draco had made it to King of Slytherin in their last life. If he had done it once as a blind child, he could do it again with a war and a rebellion under his belt.

There were sounds of agreement, though the non-Slytherins looked a bit hesitant. Draco figured that was to be expected and settle back against Blaise. Working with people instead of just ordering them around was always such a bother.

"Do we know if any of the upper years have also returned?" Or our families? Daphne purposely didn't ask. Harry, her old commander, in particular turned a bit white at the question. Must not have occurred to him, she mused. She hoped he had some luck there.

He deserved it. They all did.

Theo Nott shook his head. "We thought it would be a bit suspicious if some random first years starting popping into the other years' compartments. I suggest that if you are missing someone, send them a letter and find out for yourselves." His face was even more grim than usual. Daphne remembered that he had been married to Luna Lovegood the last time around. The poor man must be just as worried about his once-wife as she was about her sister Astoria.

The compartment was silent for a moment, everyone lost to their own worries. A disembodied voice broke the peace: "Students, we will be reaching Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train."

Ha, Daphne thought, did that count emotional baggage as well?

Beta'd by the lovely LoonyLaLuna! Give her a big cheer, guys!

Also: YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING! I've never had such a supportive fan-base after adopting a story. I tried to answer everyone who reviewed, but as I received thirty-six plus PMs, I don't think I quite managed it, which is entirely on me. Instead, I went back and editing this up for you guys :)

PS: If you have questions about the story, though, I will make a point to answer those ASAP.

Anyway, I've played with the length of chapters a bit. I've been trying my best to equalize things for continuity's sake, so if something seems off, that's probably it. Also, this chapter has recently (07/08/2022) been edited for the sake of the timeline/plot/my peace of mind. So that's why things may seem a bit different if you're re-reading. I hope you like the changes!

Anyway, thanks for all your support! I can't wait to hear what you think about this chapter and if you have questions about something I've written don't hesitate to ask!

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BlackRoseGirl666