Here's part two. A few caveats
This is a fix it from here on out. I don't do angst. I don't even like to read angst, let alone write it. For me, fanfic is an outlet that allows me to wallow in the best parts of a story. Sorry for those who are looking for more meat, less grist. This is the wrong story for that. I am the wrong hack writer for that.
Speaking of the best parts of the story: I am utterly in love with the idea of the "tech" of the wizarding world. I'm fascinated so I often write a lot about the "things" they find/have and use. This story has a fair amount of that, also.
Caveats done. Again, this is fully plotted and fleshed out. At least 2 more sections are fully written. I still have a month + of school left. I will post it all as soon as it is clean.
~~~~ begin scene ~~~~
Harry came awake, not remembering falling asleep. He kept his eyes closed, as he was alone in his bed. 'Please be in the loo. Please be in the loo.' No sound came.
He did a tempus charm before rising, though he could already see the drapes of his Hogwarts bed. According to the charm, the date was June 10, 1994.
1994.
He'd gone back a decade.
A sick, awful feeling filled him. He was thirteen years old. And from Hermione's old diaries, he knew that Pettigrew had just got away, the prior night. Riddle wasn't alive, but he'd soon be in his baby-mort version.
Ron was in the hospital wing.
Hermione was probably down in the great hall, thinking about the prior evening, or maybe trying to avoid thinking about the prior evening, reading a book.
Hermione. His Hermione.
He rushed to the loo and threw up whatever was in his system. Grief overwhelmed him. But Hermione, his Hermione had helped him plan.
What could he do to maximize his return trip? They'd made lists and preps for every Hogwarts year. And he supposed it could be a lot worse. It could have been 1997, with Riddle in power. Or 1987, with Vernon in power. At least he had some choices now.
And the room of requirement was still whole.
Harry headed there, skipping the great hall. People would be staring as gossip of his latest adventure started to manifest. This year had been the quietist. But Snape, the bastard, would be gloating and furious at the same time.
When Harry got into the room of hidden things, he called Dobby to himself.
"Master Harry Potter calls Dobby?" The little creature looked around with interest before looking earnestly at Harry.
"Hey, Dobby." His voice was high. Shit. But he smiled gently. "Yeah. I called you because I wanted to see how you are, and if you've found work. It's been a year, and I needed to make sure you're okay."
The elf nodded, also smiling; its wide, unblinking eyes staring at Harry. "Dobby not find work yet, but Dobbys be lookings." The quick nod he gave showed Dobby's determination and optimism.
"Will you work for me?" Harry asked seriously.
The creature took on a stern look. "Dobby not work for pay for Master Harry Potter. Dobby be Master Harry Potter's elf."
Wait. What? "You're already my elf?"
The little creature nodded, hard. "Yes. But Master Harry Potter wants Dobby to be free, so Dobby acts free."
"Well, I can still pay you. If you want. Or you can be my elf friend."
The brightness in Dobby's eyes was beautiful to behold. "Dobby be good elf. What does Master Harry Potter need?"
"Can you get funds from my vault if I approve?" At the emphatic nod, Harry continued, "Can you find me a blank leather journal?" Harry had done a point me for that specific item and had home up… ha ha… blank. He wanted to enchant it to be ever filling and for his eyes, only. He had memories to record and lists to make. "Also, get me… wait. Point me master engraving kit." His wand pulled in two directions. He found both: one was missing a key piece and was made of inferior steel. The second seemed to be a mithril-titanium amalgam and completely intact. He ran all the detection spells he knew – and he knew a lot – and it seemed to be clean and new. A present, perhaps, and lost before the recipient could get it. "Yeah. A blank journal. Oh, and a tent. It should be small, but safe. Best warding and charms you can get. OK?"
"Dobby do." The little elf popped away, and Harry continued to search. He found a few mirrors that he'd enchant. He'd lost his Hermione, but this Hermione was still his friend. He'd say he found the mirrors in his vault, and he'd be able to talk to her, daily.
Next, he searched for lead. Lead was magic-null. If there was a big enough box, he'd put the tiara in it. He found both a box of good size and a lead-lined silk bag. Even better. He put the tiara (his occlumency-trained mind had come back with him, and he was able to find just where to look) in the bag. He found a few leather bags that hadn't yet been enchanted and could be used as school bags, a Potter coin purse (how had that got here? It was the only thing that belonged to a Potter in the room), and a mokeskin bag. He began enchanting the school bags to be like Hermione designed: endlessly deep, organized, protected and secure. He also keyed them with notice-me-not and muggle-repelling charms.
Then he searched for money - any loose, uncursed money he could find. He quickly amassed a pile of seventy galleons, two hundred and twelve sickles, almost countless knuts, and a variety of muggle money.
He took the lot. He'd saved Hogwarts multiple times, twice already even in this timeline, and he'd never gotten anything out of it. He wasn't so altruistic this time around. He'd be taking out society's dark lord quietly, and he'd need funds to do so.
Thinking of killing the dark lord, Harry decided to try something.
"As Black heir, I call Kreacher to me."
The elf that popped in was filthy, decrepit, and angry. "Dirty mudblood calls Kreacher?" he growled, ironically, Harry thought, as Harry was clean and Kreacher was anything but.
"I prefer filthy halfblood. Kreacher elf, would you like to fulfil your promise to your former Master Regulus?"
The elf's eyes narrowed, and the tip of his finger started to glow. "How scarred boy know of this?"
Harry looked into the grisly elf's eyes calmly and seriously. "I am a master of time and death. I know of the necklace. I know how to kill it. Would you allow me to help you do so?"
The elf was wary but saw truth and knowledge in the wizard's eyes. "What does boy want?" he asked with no little resentment and distrust.
"I am going to go to a different place. I will call you within half an hour. Bring the necklace and an uncursed, goblin-made dagger. I know house Black has at least one."
The elf nodded shortly. "Kreacher will wait for your call."
Harry remembered what Neville said about the room. He searched the room for a broom that worked well enough – he found a practically new Cleansweep that must have been a first year's contraband in the last decade. It would do. He wanted to make sure he had a way out of the chamber in case the elves couldn't get in or out.
Then, he wished for a door to the chamber. Following the seemingly-endless stairs, he eventually made it to the chamber. When he stood on the dank, cold stone, the door behind him disappeared.
The carcass of the basilisk sat, not even beginning to rot.
Dobby suddenly popped to him. "Master Harry, Dobby be getting journal and tent." The elf stopped and looked around. "Why Master Harry in bad, dirty place?"
"This is what Malfoy tried to sic on the student population last year, Dobby. You did such a good job warning me and then kicking his arse."
Dobby nodded slowly.
Then Harry called Kreacher, and that elf popped in. Dobby went on alert at the venomous look Kreacher gave Harry.
"He's okay, Dobby. He's a Black elf, and I'm the Black heir. Kreacher, are you ready? Bring it here." Harry had found the tooth that he had stabbed the diary with and walked to it. It practically glowed with menace. It was still filled with venom. The chamber must have some sort of stasis charm on it, that things didn't change when no magical human was there.
"You'll have to wear something to protect your hand. This is a basilisk tooth. The venom will destroy the locket after I command it to open." Kreacher took in the tooth then looked around for the first time. Seeing the dead snake, his respect for the wizard grudgingly grew. He nodded and called a dragon-hide glove to himself.
Kreacher picked up the fang and nodded to Harry. Harry spoke to the locket. Though Kreacher recognized the language of the snake, he didn't know that Harry only told the locket to open. But when it did, Kreacher didn't hesitate. His dragon-hide clad hand slammed the tooth into the locket, even as the locket tried to speak poison into the elf's mind. The locket screamed, and a black cloud exploded.
The elf fell back, almost losing his balance. But he looked at the locket and saw it had, indeed, been defeated. Tears filled his eyes.
"Little master helped Kreacher. Little master good master."
Harry smiled kindly. "Did you bring the dagger?"
Kreacher nodded and produced a scabbarded blade that was much smaller than a sword in size – the whole thing was less than a foot in length and could be worn attached to the thigh – but was obviously deadly-sharp. "Thanks!" Harry took the blade out of the sheath and handed the sheath back to the elf.
Harry took the fang back and what liquid was left he dripped onto the blade Kreacher had provided. The blade seemed to absorb the liquid and looked stronger for it. The elves both watched quietly, knowing something important was happening.
Harry pulled the silk bag from his satchel and pulled the tiara out of it. Both elves shied away, Kreacher actually snarling at the miasma of evil that emanated from the headpiece. Harry simply touched the newly-strengthened blade to the center stone. It cracked as the horcrux therein died.
"We need to keep this dagger. We might need it again." Kreacher nodded and returned the sheath. Harry put the dagger, the silk bag, and the two dead horcrux in the lead box he had found. Before he could seal the thing, Dobby popped out and popped back in with the diary that had been destroyed just one year earlier. The trio of evil objects looked obviously defeated, and Harry had a cold, grim smile on his face.
"Kreacher, it is up to you, of course, but would you like to help me kill more of these?"
Kreacher stood up straighter. "Kreacher do!"
Harry nodded. "Dobby? You too?"
"Of course, Master Harry."
Harry nodded and turned back to Kreacher. "Do you have access to all Black vaults?" At the elf's nod, Harry continued. "Bella has one of these. It was a cup… and stolen from its rightful owner. I'm not sure what would happen if you killed it in the vault. Would the goblins know? Probably. And they'd probably kill you for it. On the other hand, her vault is cursed and I don't know that you can take anything out."
Kreacher smiled evilly. "Kreacher get cup."
When Kreacher popped out, Harry turned to Dobby, who handed him a blank, brown leather journal. "You have the tent?"
Dobby nodded as he did everything: enthusiastically. He bounced slightly as he described his find, snapping and then placing the newly-appeared, packed tent on the floor. "It be fancy dancy explorer's tent, so has good weather spells. No mugglesies see it and magic stays insides. Has kitchen, loo, bedroom, clothesies cleaner, common room, and room for rituals or magic practices. Dobby pickeded best one of lot!" Harry figured, with the world cup coming, there had been a lot to choose from, but he also knew price gouging happened.
Harry nodded. "Sounds perfect. Did I have enough to cover it?"
Dobby looked sly. "Master Harry told Dobby to get. Dobby got from old bad master's warehouse."
Harry grinned and chuckled aloud. Anything that hurt the Malfoy bank balance was excellent, to his mind. "Good work! Can you get me a food stasis cabinet the same way? Or do you need funds to purchase one?"
A look of determination and… revenge appeared on the elf's face. "Tent has food cabbee-net. Bestest one – both hot and cold and for potionees too. Old bad master's warehouses for busyness have lots of stuffs. You want should Dobby fills the foods up?"
"Yes, at least six months' worth, if you can."
The elf nodded shortly as he erected the tent and snapped the cabinet out. "Dobby do. Anything else?"
"Healing potions?"
Dobby grinned maniacally. Stupid Malfoy man has apothecary business too. "What Master Harry want?"
Remembering the course of repair Hermione had put together, on the 'in case you go back to puberty, you can fix it!' plan, Harry recited from memory, "Nutrient absorbers, nutrition potions, bone strenghteners, organ health, appetite enhancers. And the usual: pepperup, blood replenisher, murtlap, headache potion, skelegrow, dreamless sleep, you know."
Dobby nodded. "Master Harry wills be finally fixing hisself?"
Harry nodded "Yep, and you're key to me being able to do so." Dobby bowed shortly and popped away with the stasis cabinet.
Harry smiled. His magic had ensured he'd made it to adulthood; he'd even made a respectable 5'9". But he'd never been completely healthy, and knew he never would be unless he fixed it now.
He supposed it was a benefit of coming back. Hermione had always said…
Hermione.
His heart tripped. He'd kept himself busy all morning. Refusing to think of the last night. Refusing to let himself remember the perfection of being with her… of finally, finally letting himself go with her.
And it was gone. She was gone.
He'd not cried in years. It was no use, was it? To cry? Absently wiping the tears from his cheeks, he tried to school his feelings; to raise his occlumency. He had his memory of her. And now, he had a long-ass life ahead of himself. A long-ass, lonely life. Because he was 23 in his mind. He couldn't fit with teenagers. Thinking of Hermione as a woman when she was 14 was just disgusting.
His Hermione, the confident, snarky Heriome that she'd grown into, was gone.
"Ah, gods," he whispered, shaking his head and closing his eyes. His sense of loss was staggering.
Kreacher popped back in, and Harry set himself to the task at hand. Voldie was out there. This time, he was going down before he could hurt anyone else.
Moments later, four dead horcrux were stored in the lead box. The silk bag and basilisk dagger were in Harry's bag. Kreacher would pop the box and store it in Grimmauld place.
"Can Kreacher collect fantastic snake specimen for Black collection?"
Harry shrugged. "Sure!"
"Kreacher know how to sell parts to make money, but skeleton will make fine decoration for dungeons."
Harry grinned. "And I know of the perfect prisoners to enjoy it. Kreacher, will you let Dobby help you fix the house up? I know the horcrux would have poisoned your home."
Kreacher nodded slowly.
"While you're cleaning, I'm looking for a multi-compartment trunk. Mine's not big enough for what I need. If we don't already have one, I'll buy new."
"Kreacher already know!" The elf popped out suddenly.
Dobby popped back in with the stasis cabinet, popped into the tent, and put the cabinet into place. Popping back out, he shrunk the tent again. "Dobby gots one year of foodsies and much medicines."
"Brilliant. You remember where I live?" Dobby nodded and Kreacher popped back in with a black trunk with pewter fixtures.
"This was Master Regulus's. He just bought before… It has three compartments. Wardrobe, library, storage. We can lock to youses magics."
Harry smiled. "This is perfect. Thank you for letting me use it. Dobby, set up the tent behind the shed in the Dursley's yard. You said muggles won't see it?"
"Nobodys not keyed in sees – mugglsies not see, magicals not sees either. Good warding. Dobby adds Master Harry's signature. Only Master Harry and his elfsies can see."
"Great. For now, that works. We might be adding others in the future." Dobby nodded and popped out again, taking the tent with him. Harry turned to Kreacher. "Does this trunk get any smaller? I have a bottomless bag, but it only opens this far." Harry demonstrated how the large mouth of the bag opened. It looked like an antique physician's bag in chocolate leather. It had a shoulder strap and handles. The opening went quite wide, but the trunk was very large. Kreacher showed Harry how to make the trunk slightly smaller and then put it into the newly-enchanted bag.
"OK, Kreacher, I'm going to leave you to this snake. If you need anything from me, just make sure I'm alone before you pop to me. OK?"
"Yes, Master Harry."
Harry cleared the old rockfall, disillusioned himself, mounted the purloined broom, and flew up to the top of the stairs. Whispering for it to open, Harry found himself in Myrtle's empty bathroom.
He turned around, whispered 'close' in the language of the snake (which had been dead useful in enchanting and protecting his own, patented work). Taking a moment to center himself again, he tried to think of the positive. Everyone was here, alive, safe. Even Sirius was alive and safe, or relatively so. He put the broom in his bag and stiffened his spine.
It was time to start moving on to the plans Hermione had helped him make.
Leaving the bathroom, he found a quiet corner and took off his disillusionment. He had not walked far, thinking to make his way back up to the room, when Hermione – hair bristling, eyes wide with nerves – found him.
"Harry! Where have you been?"
Her voice was just a bit higher, her skin the dewy freshness of a mid-teen. She was gorgeous, and she was fourteen.
"Sorry, Hermione. With what happened, well, I'm not fit for human consumption." It was true. She would think he referred to the Sirius situation. In reality, well, best not to dwell on what was or could have been.
Hermione nodded and started to walk with him. "I can't believe the minister and the chief warlock would just…" she looked through the deserted area, not seeming to notice anything in her thoughts, though even the walls in this part of the castle were bereft, "well… you should be careful, though. That particular phrase – the human consumption one - wasn't used until the two-thousands. Of course, we could just pass it off as muggle but…"
He stopped short, realizing what she said. "Hermione?" He whispered, hope stirring within him.
She looked at him with eyes suspiciously moist. "Did you really think I would let you go on this adventure alone? When I just got you where I want you? Really!"
He threw himself at her, hugging her in a manner Molly Weasley would envy. He kissed at her hair, rocking back and forth. Her arms came around him. "It's okay," she murmured, "You're not alone. I'm with you."
"Love you," he whispered.
"Love you right back." She pulled away, running her fingers through his birds' nest of hair. "And we are going to totally kick arse with this do-over."
~~~ seemed like a good chapter end point? ~~~~