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Harry snapped the newspaper shut in disgust. He could not believe he had forgotten Rita Skeeter's ruthlessness, especially since she had written that preposterous biography about Harry himself, following the defeat of Voldemort in 1998. But at least by that point, most people knew better than to listen to the drivel of 'that old cow'. This article, on the other hand, would be believed by the majority populus, despite its many lies. How could she call him Voldemort's right-hand-man? He had spent his entire life fighting that monster; how would he even begin to contemplate aiding Voldemort in a siege on Hogwarts? It was enough to make his blood boil with anger.

Then, the biggest marvel: Gilderoy Lockart was a hero? Harry knew of his deception in the future, but to think he was capable of weaving such a tall tale as a mere first year was a phenomenon. Then again, he was a Ravenclaw, and Harry knew better than to underestimate the brilliance of that house. Still, it was a miracle that Lockhart was able to not only win himself an Order of Merlin, (First Class, no less!), but also managed to bring down Harry Porter's name. Harry only hoped this had not caused his students to cast away all they had learned that year due to the revelation of their Defense professor's supposed true allegiance.

Then Lockhart had driven Mad-Eye insane by Obliviating him. This was what angered Harry the most. The slander of Harry Porter's name was nothing, but to hurt his loyal ally, his friend? Harry had changed the past for the sole reason of preventing the terrible fates of those like Moody, yet he had failed yet again, just as he had with Dumbledore.

Dumbledore; that was another thing. The wise old man had always been there for Harry during his Hogwarts years, whether he had known it or not. Then, after traveling to the past, Harry had thought he would get his mentor back once more. But apparently, this was not meant to be, as he ended up causing Dumbledore's death to occur 19 years earlier than it originally had. Dumbledore's fate lead him to another question; what had happened to Snape and Regulus? Skeeter had said Harry Porter had kidnapped them, but Harry knew this was obviously not true. So where had the two Slytherin boys gone?

Despite these speculations, Harry knew there was nothing he could do about Lockhart, Dumbledore, Snape, or Regulus. So, Harry placed the newspapers back on their shelf in Flourish and Blotts, and Disapparated.

Harry appeared back outside St. Mungos. Glancing up at the sun, he judged that it was about midday, so he had probably been gone for a couple of hours. He hurried inside and back up to his room on the fourth floor. Bursting into his room, Harry froze as he saw a frazzled looking Neville standing in the center of the room.

"Harry!" Neville visibly deflating in relief, "Where did you go? I was about to file a report . . . not to mention, I'd probably be reprimanded by Healer Smethwyck for carelessness . . ."

"Sorry, Neville. I . . . went out for a walk," Harry replied, "To maybe help jog my memories." He mentally winced at the pun.

"And did it help any?" Neville asked curiously, and possibly a little hopefully.

Sensing an opportunity, Harry answered with an abrupt, "Yes! Yes, it did."

Neville chanced a small smile. "So, you remember everything? And Leah and Liam?"

"Your siblings?" Harry guessed, letting out a breath as Neville nodded. "So am I free to go then?"

"Well, there wasn't really anything stopping you earlier," Neville joked, "But yes . . . just don't tell my boss." As Harry headed out, Neville suddenly called him back, holding out a small piece of paper, "Oh, and Harry, if anyone asks you what you're doing, just hand him or her this slip and say you got it from Healer Longbottom."

Harry thanked him quickly before leaving. This time, he made for the other end of the floor, to the Janus Thickey long-term residence ward. He had a sneaking suspicion the person he most wanted to see was being held there.

A single door separated the ward from the rest of the hospital. Walking forward, Harry attempted to open it, only to find it had been magically sealed. A frowning healer approached him, asking, "What do you think you are doing? This a secure ward for our long-term patients!"

"Uh - here," Harry said, thrusting the slip Neville had given him toward the Healer, "I need to visit ex-Auror Moody."

The healer snatched the paper and squinted at it. "You were sent by Healer Longbottom?"

Not wanting to get Neville into any more trouble, Harry replied, "I'm here to visit Alastor Moody to . . . conduct a study. Healer Longbottom merely supplied me with this pass."

The healer continued to frown, but nevertheless unlocked the doors for Harry to pass, with the promise to be back within an hour.

As soon as the healer left, Harry scanned the room for Mad-Eye. And there, on the bed at the end of the room, sat Mad-Eye reading a newspaper. He wore a long hospital gown and monocle sat above his human eye, but what struck Harry the most was how aged the wizard had become. Why, his white hair could almost rival Dumbledore's! As Harry approached him, Moody smiled cheerily. Harry shook his head at the sight; it was quite unbecoming to see the fierce ex-Auror grin so candidly.

"Um, Auror Moody? Sir?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Hello," Moody said welcomingly, "And who might you be? Have you come to visit me?"

"I'm, uh, Harry Potter, sir," Harry replied, thrown off by Moody's warm nature, "Yes, I've come to ask you, if I may, about what you remember from the night of May 7, 1977?"

Moody's smile slipped and his expression grew somber. "That's the day I lost my memories, Mr. Potter. How could I remember anything?"

"Right. I'm sorry," Harry said, "But I think I knew you before, and I was hoping you could help me now."

Mad-Eye's eye narrowed, "That's impossible, boy. You couldn't have even been born then!"

Harry glanced around the room, to find the two alone, (the only other occupant being a comatose witch). "Well," Harry began, "There's something I am going to tell you, but it will sound completely mental." He once again winced at his own choice of words.

It was some time later when Harry completed his tale. "So, if I understand this correctly, Mr. Potter, you traveled back in time and changed the future to what it is now?" Moody asked.

"In short, yes," Harry replied, "But it's nothing like how I expected it to be. My parents and brother . . . everyone . . . are all dead."

Moody scowled at him, "Are you crazy, boy? What did you expect the world to be like? Time is very temperamental, something you ought to know by now! After all you've said you've been through, could you be so naive as to believe you could alter fate itself?"

Harry, looked away from the aged ex-Auror, feeling properly chastised.

Seeming to take pity on him, Moody continued, "But it seems you have no choice but to see this to the end I believe that besides coming to check on my senile old self, you are in need of some help."

"I need help?" Harry asked curiously.

Moody grunted, "I may not be the capable Auror I once was, but I've managed to keep myself posted on the goings-on in this world. The healers are hoping regularly reading the newspapers may jog my memory. I may be able to give you the information you seek. Especially -" Moody broke off, looking at Harry pitifully. "Especially about your wife."

Harry looked at him, asking with wide eyes, "My w - Ginny? You know what has become of her?"

"Yes," said Moody, and the words that followed made Harry's heart clench painfully, "Ginevra Weasley is in Azkaban."

A/N: Please review! Thanks!