Disclaimer: All Harry Potter books and trademarks along with the characters recognised belong to J.K.Rowling.
A/N: I was bored and figured I'd get this chapter out early. Don't expect updates this quick constantly unless I'm feeling generous.
Now... Questions!
What exactly did Severus do? Good question, I'm not too sure... neither is Harry. All he knows is that Snape tricked him. He pretended to go along with what Harry wanted when he had prepared for the argument all along. He sent himself back with Harry as well as getting an oath out of him to give the memories he locked within the back of Harry's mind to his younger self. When they appeared in the past in Harry's younger self's body it was on that fateful October oh so long ago. There were thus three people in the mind of that body, the Young-Harry, Snape and Future-Harry. Snape tried to take over both of the Harry's, and apparently would have done it. Luckily for Harry, Voldemort showed up to try and kill everyone and kick both Snape and Harry out.
Does Harry eventually end up in his own body? Read on to find out! Unfortunately I believe in a little thing called 'Sods Law'. If it can wrong in this fic then it most probably will.
Are there going to be 2 Dark Lords? Actually it depends... We have Voldemort out there, still undecided if he's completely evil. We have Future-Snape hiding somewhere, definatly Dark Lord material. We might also have Past-Snape, we may as well call him Severus, what should he do if he confronts his Future Self in some way? Will Harry have to give the memories of the future to him? Oh and we have Harry... And now you should realise I haven't really answered the question.
How is Harry 500 Years old? Because that's what he is. Okay okay so it's slightly extreme. Needed to get the whole 'immortal' feel though. He's nearly as bad as Voldemort in morals now having torn his soul apart to create his own Horucruxes. He felt it was the only way to fight Tom as his equal. The Horucruxes mean that you live forever - as long as no one destroys them. Future Harry's actual physical body is like that of a 25 year old, the soul magic of the Horucruxes binds the body so that it no longer ages after creating the first one. Voldemort only looked like the distorted figure he did because the ritual to give him a body back... no one said it had to be a nice looking body.
Chapter Two: What is Normal?
Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say they perfectly normal, thank you very much. And… oh well you know the rest. They were the type of people that would fight to death to be normal, and if you pointed out that 'normal' was only a mathematical average they would chalk you up as being weird and obviously normal.
There's no arguing with some people.
The pride and joy of their life was their son, Dudley. At the moment he was customarily screaming as his mother fought to get him into his high chair. It was currently dinnertime on October 31st. Vernon Dursley was chuckling along to his son's antics, dodging the thrown food.
'All right Duddydums, I'll make you something better don't worry.' Said Mrs Dursley, as though this was a common occurrence.
She reached round his enormously large waist and tried to squeeze him out of the chair, she could cook some more food while he played with his toys, after all she didn't want her precious child starving did she.
Dudley suddenly stopped crying. Mrs Dursley grew concerned instantly.
'Duddy honey what's wron -'
Dudley's eyes suddenly flashed with such a violent green that the shocked Mrs Dursley lost control of the overweight high chair. Plunging to the floor the child hit the floor with an almighty crack, causing some of the floor tiles to splinter.
'DUDLEY!'
Mrs Dursley quickly forgot about the flash of light. Things like that aren't supposed to happen, so obviously it didn't. At least that's what she chose to believe. She was still shaking as her husband threw her into the car with the bleeding Dursley and sped them of to the hospital.
It wasn't that long a journey but it worried them that their son stayed quiet the entire time, eyes starting straight ahead. They pulled into the car park and hurried into the building, demanding that someone come and help their poor stricken child.
An hour later the two parents were sitting with an aging doctor whose nameplate declared her to be an "Esmerelda Smith". Doctor Smith clasped her hand together and stared at the Dursley's over the top.
'I'm glad you decided to come to us with the child, we can see it's obviously getting out of hand.'
Mr Dursley's beady eyes widened, as he spluttered 'What's getting out of hand!'
'Well… err the overweight problem. That is why you brought the child in isn't it?'
'Of course not! Are you telling me that while our child has been bleeding to death you –'
Doctor Smith interrupted the man mid rant, why did she always get the difficult ones? 'If I may Mr…' She glanced down at her clipboard, 'Mr Dursley? Right. Well Mr Dursley the knock to the head has been taken care of, we've run a few standard tests and the scans show no permanent brain damage.'
Mrs Dursley breathed a sigh of relief, 'Has he had to have stitches? He's dreadfully scared of sharp things.'
'The cut had already started to heal over when he arrived; we've bandaged him up. You should be able to remove them around tomorrow sometime.'
'So he's fine to go home?'
'Yes Mr Dursley, but if you'll quickly stay a moment we can discus your child's eatin – '
The door had slammed shut before she'd finished.
It was the next day and they removed the bandages quite early, they were getting worried about Dudley's complacent attitude. They had raged at the lightning bolt scar that they uncovered and Mr Dursley threatened to go down and sue the hospital for giving Dursley a horrific scar.
They put him to sleep a few hours later both agreeing they'd talk to the hospital tomorrow.
Neither of them commented on their sons green eyes.
If something couldn't happen by common sense, then it was ignored. Eyes changing colour after a year defiantly counted. Neither of them noticed that he was already losing weight as well.
Many Wizards assume that the world is run by magic. That it shapes and controls all of our lives. They use phrases like "it flows through us, it surrounds us and binds us." and "where would we be without magic?"
They would in fact, be muggles. But thoughts like that do not occur to wizards. From their perspective and point of view magic rules creation and muggles therefore are little better then things to either pity, protect, or 'put down'.
Muggles on the other hand believe that the world is run by rules. This is if fact a better assumption then the wizards and far more plausible, they do however seem to ignore the fact that there could be Rules of Magic. To a muggle, magic cannot have rules because that would take away the whole point of magic. It's meant to be there to do the impossible, to move mountains, and bring back the dead. Yes, it can of course do all this, but not without following rules like – To move a mountain you need the magical power Solus outputted into the correct elemental variations of the Loki rune stone coupled with the specific arithmetical formulae. And suddenly magic looks suspiciously familiar to some parts of science.
The magic of the world is an ordered kind. Actually it becomes obvious why this is the case if you take into account evolution. You can find out about evolution not by asking the question "why is it this way" but the question "what would happen if it wasn't this way". If magic didn't have some kind of order and restraints then we would be in a different kettle of fish altogether. This is meant in the magical sense. That by now the entire universe would have been changed into a kettle because some young chaotic mage willed it to happen without realising, resulting in the destruction of the universe, and a kettle of fish of course.
Since this is not the case we can safely assume that all magic is ordered, and thus has rules.
Now is probably a good time to bring up the differences between rules, The Law and ORDER.
When someone breaks rules then they find themselves given a good telling of by the person who made the rules, on the other hand you'll most likely find some other more shadowy people congratulating the rule breaker. It doesn't matter that much and we only follow them mainly because everyone else does and we worry what would happen if we didn't.
When someone breaks the law however, they quickly find themselves being chased by scary people saying they work for "The Law" and apparently whatever this "Law" thing is isn't happy with you. Five minutes later you'll end up locked in some cell, given a giant punishment and if you happen to get out you can bet that everyone already knows about you being naughty. This ends with your employer saying "we don't want your sort working here". Obviously "The Law" is not very forgiving. On the other hand you can actual survive breaking The Law as long as you make sure you get a good head start on the running. You also need to quickly start relying on other people who break The Law and may find yourself delving into something called "Organised Crime". Which is confusing seeing as you broke away from rules and regulations yet are told, that if you want to survive you have to follow some other darker laws that this Organised Crime syndicate enforces.
Which brings us to ORDER. Which seems to be mightily important, as we can't get away from it. Even when we break some part of ORDER it comes around, bites you on the arse and reminds you that it's everywhere. ORDER is a lot like rules and The Law. Sometimes people talk about CHAOS, where they talk about how something can be unordered, like a desk for example. What they forget is that a psychologist can, given enough time, find order in the CHAOS based on the psychological assessment of the person who owns the desk. CHAOS is actually ORDER, in a mask, who dances on the edge of your understanding. While apparently un-ruled it turns out that CHAOS does follow rules, it just doesn't like to tell people what they are. So it turns out that if we break ORDER we get more ORDER, in a mask. So no one really knows…
What the universe is really based on is indeed a mystery, but it is most likely either The Law or ORDER. Don't tell the muggles or the wizards. They might get upset.
The problem with this is that no one can normally test what would happen if someone broke The Law or ORDER of the universe.
Normal is not a word associated with Harry Potter, or Severus Snape.
Magic can control the flow of time, both in an enclosed space and a person's passage through time itself. However when going back in time it changes the future, something the universe doesn't like much. To combat this it developed the nifty idea and rule about trousers, time seemed to have a lot of them now. Another rule was that if someone went back in time they went with their own body, or possessed their younger counterpart, and the two became one, with the oldest soul dominating. One Soul equals One Body.
A Killing Curse to the forehead has just interrupted this possession…
The malevolent souls trying to possess Young-Harry have been discharged, let wild in the world. Latching on to what they could. Drawn inevitably to the best blood or magical match.
Seeing as how the universe hadn't blown up Harry didn't think he'd destroyed ORDER, as we know it.
Hopefully.
He didn't like the idea of what beings could enforce The Law of the universe.
He'd play it safe and quiet just to be sure anyway.
Deep behind Dudley Dursley's new green eyes, there was a meeting going on. Inside the mind of the boy sat Harry Potter.
The mind is probably the best representation of the muggle version of magic. Anything you can imagine can be created inside your own mind. As such a 500-year-old Harry looked like the 18 year old he'd always thought of himself as. He was seated in a plush red chair that was taken straight out of the Gryffindor common room. In his arms was a child the size of a small baby elephant. They were surrounded by darkness. A few small orbs of lights bobbed and floated through the air encircling them, every now and then they would flicker and given of light of a different colour. To the delight of Dudley they also gave of sparks.
'You know I actually think I like you better as a baby Duds.' Harry sighed and glanced round the room.
'I'll be arriving soon you know. I'm your cousin, Harry. Your mom absolutely screams when she sees me on the doorstep. Although I'm not even sure that it will happen this time around… I can't believe that the slimy git actually did it. I think he came back with me you know, I can remember him attacking me before I was suddenly flung here.'
Dudley laughed happily from on Harry's knee. 'This isn't funny you know!'
Harry reined himself in, annoyed at himself arguing with a one year old… he needed a distraction, it was happening far to fast. He hated not being in control. Worried about his younger self in this timeline, did that mean that Voldemort actually managed to kill Young-Harry? Where was Snape?
Bored from the orbs Dudley started one of his temper tantrums. He wanted attention. Harry quickly got bored himself and slapped a silencing charm on the child. 'Oh shut up will you I can't hear myself think.' As often the case, as soon as silence struck, Harry found himself unable to think of anything. He was only half-heartedly controlling the actions of Dudley's body; he could feel his Aunt try to wake him up.
Glancing down he was shocked to see that Dudley was looking at him with a face of wonderment. Harry chuckled. 'They never actually tried ignoring you did they?' He removed the silencing charm and watched as the child giggled at it's voice suddenly retuning, with a quick thought from Harry a horde of imaginary creatures started to walk past the two, giving Dudley something to gawk at.
'I never thought it would be true but you actually like magic don't you? Though I suppose I've got you before they drum in that saying of theirs. Damn it you've distracting me. Right, Snape. Where the hell is he. He better not have remained in my younger self's body or I'll kill him.'
Harry gave feral grin as an imaginary basilisk slithered past them in the mind room.
'Harwee'
Dudley Dursley looked up, eyes wide and more curious then they should be. Green eyes. Matching Harry's own.
'Oh great! We're merging and I'm taking over! Damn it.'
What exactly had Snape done?
'He's here, somewhere… He's the only one that knows what's really going on.'
Harry watched from Dudley's eyes as his Aunt opened the front door and screamed.
At least something was going right.
'VERNON!'
'What is – Oh my god!' Mr Dursley's eyes fastened on the wicker basket on his front door step, but more specifically on the child inside it.
'Get it inside before the neighbours see!'
They dumped the basket on the kitchen table, promptly throwing a towel on top to muffle the new screams.
'Why the hell is it here?' Moaned Mr Dursley, he'd feared something like this might happen since he'd heard the whisperings yesterday.
'Can we get rid of it? Throw it in an orphanage?'
They both continued on in this vein for quite some time. Neither of them noticed Dudley slowly make his way down the stairs; if they had they would have wondered how a 15-month-old child had managed to gain the engineering talent to dismantle both the cot (which had bars around it) and the safety gate at the top the stairs (bars again.).
The young Dudley heaved himself onto one of the chairs, and then stood on it to look at the basket on the table. Drawing back the towel he noticed that there was a letter nestled underneath the young boy. Most importantly the Future-Harry Potter enforcing extreme Legilimency upon his younger self, found no intruders within the mind.
Snape wasn't there. Well that was one problem solved.
The young Dudley frowned at his parents. He was slowly gaining a higher awareness with each passing moment that the older Harry stayed in his body. He liked Harry, he liked magic, and he wanted him to stay. And Dudley Dursley always got what he wanted.
'Baby Harwee!' He slowly started to reach towards baby Harry.
The childish shriek stopped the Dursley's mid rant. They quickly rushed over to try to get their child away from the Potter brat; they didn't want Dudley to catch anything after all. However Dudley screamed and stropped and scowled at his parents for a full hour. The Dursley's didn't know what to do. Dudley had of course always gotten his way until now, but they couldn't let him play with the other brat. What if you could catch magic? What if it was contagious?
'Me wan! Me wan!'
Dudley managed to wrench away and grab a hold of the younger Harry's hand.
Magic swirled. Shadows darkened as time itself slowed to a crawl. Young-Harry's eyes opened and Green met Green. A sharp pain suddenly began to build up in Dudley's scar above his left eyebrow. Magic was afoot and apparently it wanted Future-Harry in his Young own body…
This isn't supposed to happen. Future-Harry could feel something gripping his very soul with cold frosted fingers. Trying to drag him through the small portion of skin that connected Dudley and Young-Harry.
The Adversary gave a scream and threw all his mind and magic into wrenching himself away from the icy grasp while Dudley was trying to pull his hand away. The real world was gone now, lost in shadowy darkness. The last thing to disappear was the shining green eyes of death. Numbness worked its way to the heart and all was lost.
I feel so light…
The Adversary drifted alone, it would be all right to give stop fighting now wouldn't it? What was there to fight when the world was gone? Life was to long and to hard. It was time to sleep. The Darkness was creeping into thoughts, into souls.
But Snape, Voldemort?
Everyone was waiting, they had waited for so long. Fate had taken all of them away. You cannot change your own destiny. It is a fight you cannot win.
Fate!
It was… Hard to think. Move. Tired. Why fight? You would only lose.
No
Time to sleep
No
It is your Fate
No
He was Harry
With no senses, no body or magic. His thoughts had run out but instinct remained, snarling at the idea of giving up.
He was The Adversary of all
No way to move without muscles no way to know what's happening without light to see. No way to fight with his magic gone. But whatever this place between time was The Adversary still existed. With Spirit and Will.
Will that did not give up, did not stop. In the eternal moment between seconds, that spirit sharpened to a single blade, then to a point.
Fight
The Adversary awoke from the darkness, he willed himself to see. If there was no light for human eyes to see then his spirit would cast it's own light. If there was no body to crawl across the land then his essence would fly through the air. He did not need magic to fight, did not need a body to strike.
He was light.
Darkness drew back, milked its way around the light of his sight. He was not alone. The icy chains he had felt when this first began were still there. Pulling his light towards another glowing green spirit.
It was amusing how the mind interpreted images that were not supposed to be seen, it made up rules as it went along.
Spreading his light, The Adversary felt the Pink glow of Dudley beside him, half linked to his own through the beginnings of a merging. Ice drew him further forward. The connection to the green glow grew stronger and he knew it was Young-Harry.
Magic wanted him in his original body did it? He had denied the Laws of Magic once and now it was making up for it. To Merlin with that! He was The Adversary of Voldemort for half a millennium! He would do what his own will decided.
But what should he do?
If he went in his younger body then he would be merged with Young-Harry. Losing his edge and his own person. The same would happen with Dudley… wouldn't it count as killing the child to take over it's life. His own soul would overpower the other in the merging because of his age.
Another Sacrifice.
With that thought there was only one-way he would play this: Like a Gryffindor.
Blades of light struck forward at his command shredding all the ice chains he could see. It thrashed and spit back at the light like a live snake, a simile that amused The Adversary. His will was focused attacking new chains as they formed, breaking the link to Dudley so the child could float free in the abyss. He wanted his cousin safe from both himself and the chains.
Burning light flashed forward and danced, he was the light, he was everything, he felt young and powerful the like which he had not experienced in so long. His sprit sung and his will lashed out. Ice tried to wrap around him, cutting into his soul with more pain then a body of skin and bone can ever experience. He changed the light to burning flames with which the ice drew back like animals. They could not think or plan. It would be over as soon as the main ice chain between him and Young-Harry was destroyed.
A sound reached his spirit. Young-Harry was awake and struggling against his own chain with a will that surprised his older counterpart.
The chain snapped. He shielded himself from the shards but most of them flew upwards towards something that even The Adversary's senses could not reach. Instead he looked to the children, Dudley was still floating while Young-Harry was struggling.
Struggling?
He tried to stretch the light out further, to see what was happening. But the darkness curled around the light, pushing back, breaking through. It was wild and angry. Filled with a force that The Adversary knew all to well. It spilled like blood in the darkness, corrupting all it touched. Bleeding out of Young-Harry…
Voldemort
The Horucrux was awake.
Only us two, The Adversary and Lord Voldemort would have the will to exist against all odds. But where he had filled his being, his spirit with light to overcome his loss of body, Voldemort had done the opposite. The Dark Lord was aptly named, hating the light, embracing the dark. Now the abyss was not the empty darkness of nothingness but the swelling mass of dirty shadows.
Was this the darkness that had infected him all his life? How much did it push him to do? What was it responsible for?
Before he realised someone else was attacking, clumsily beating back the Horucruxes assault. The Adversary swept aside the darkness, froze it, caged it, turned it into light itself. The Horucrux was distracted, The Adversary pushed the assault until the light was everywhere, he could see everything he was everywhere surrounding the 3 souls as they struggled for control.
The children were both there, Dudley protecting a cousin he'd only just met. Pink was fighting with Red. Red was suffocating Green. They burned and fought each other until they were so close that they could not be told apart.
No… wait, they were merging! All three blended souls falling into a vortex without end.
The Adversary added his will to theirs wanting to kill any part of Volemort that he could. The Dark thing screamed, it was new, confused, in this strange place. They Beat down and caged the Horucrux in a way that would not be possible in the real world, but in this place of spirits it was.
The spirits of Young-Harry and Dudley burned together as one falling into Dudley Dursley's body.
The Adversary turned, finally looked what he himself was being pulled into.
The body of baby Harry Potter.
Both souls of Harry Potter had screamed to the universe that they belonged in one body. But only The Future-Harry, The Adversary was left whole enough to be there.
'Don Wan!'
Suddenly they were all free, tumbling as Mrs Dursley tottered to keep a hold of Dudley with his massive size. The Adversary, no, Harry Potter, blinked at the sudden Role Reversal. He was within his own mind, inside his own young body.
Dudley Dursley stared back at him with an open mouth and wide childish green eyes; a red lightning scare still stained his forehead.
What had just happened?
A/N:
Well What do you think...
What will happen to Dudley now?
Plans for the future…
Will Voldemort be completely evil?
Where do you think Snape is?
Do the Dursley's deserve a chance at redemption?
How fragile is time and Fate? Will it try to remain the same or change instantly?
Is my writing actually any good or is it boring?
Ravus