Harry Potter. Destroyer of Dark Lords, fairly successful Auror, and depressed adult.
He groggily rose from his room in his muggle apartment. He'd lived here for a while now; he'd taken out a huge sum of money, enough to last a lifetime, and was determined to live as a hermit for the rest of his days.
Flashbacks assaulted him wherever he went in the magical world. Sometimes they even assaulted him here, in his muggle abode. He stumbled down the stairs - dammit, he'd gone to sleep in his clothes again - and sighed, walking dejectedly towards his kitchen.
What he didn't expect to see was Luna, sitting serene as ever, on his kitchen table.
"Luna, how did you find me?" He asked tiredly, ignoring the rush of memories that once again threatened to attack him. "And why are you sitting on my table?"
"The Snorcacks told me I needed to be here with some things today," Luna replied airily. "I see you haven't recovered from Draco's death… perhaps these will help you." She pointed lazily to a grocery bag of vague items, one which looked like a suspiciously large tome.
"Um… thank you?" Harry stumbled, leaning against the door. "I'm sorry, I just woke up."
Luna nodded. "I know. Harry? I'm sorry I won't be able to help you further, but please do kiss Draco for me."
"But Luna," Harry protested, ignoring her comment's implications. His bad memories continued to play relentlessly. "Draco's dead. He's been dead for at least a year… He died right in front of me, Luna, and I couldn't do anything for him." He brushed away the uncomfortable tingle in his eyes and stepped forward. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"Yes," Luna nodded slowly. "Do take advantage of your heirship. You'll know when."
Harry raised an eyebrow but said nothing, merely nodding solemnly in reply.
"Goodbye, Harry," she said wistfully, trotting towards the door. "Oh - and please leave a note before you go." Cryptic message delivered, Luna walked out of Harry's apartment and left him to deal with the grocery bag of items she'd given him.
Harry hadn't slept in ages. A stale cup of coffee sat next to him, dutifully forgotten in his desperation.
The answers. They were right there.
He'd already begun to brew potions. The Deathly Hallows, as exalted as they were, were thrown haphazardly over a conjured chair that sat dejectedly in the corner. He felt his eyelids drooping and summoned another potion, one he'd brewed on day three when he realized sleep was irrelevant and had to be dealt with as unobtrusively as possible.
Gulping it down, he barely even tasted it. He blinked and returned to work, invigorated artificially by the power of potions.
Inside Luna's gift had been everything he needed to go back in time… or at least, somewhat. The book talked a lot about astral planes, other dimensions, and the fact that time travel of this scale still counted, technically, as part of the same timeline, continuing on from when he used the potion to where he wanted to go seamlessly, blah blah blah etcetera etcetera. He wasn't really interested in the details, but basically, it was the perfect way to fix everything. He could save Draco. He could do something more than enslave himself to fighting Voldemort's lackeys. He could make his life into something better than a train wreck.
It was going to be worth it. Every bit. He just needed to complete the potion, stick the Time Turner into the liquid, and chant some very long and complicated runes which he'd been memorizing half the time. If he aimed it right, he'd be able to return to his eleventh birthday or even earlier, giving him the chance to fix everything.
He kept working.
"...Itaque tempus convertero; mutatio." He dropped the Time Turner.
The world dissolved into endless swirling colour.
A/N: The first chapter is always the rockiest. It gets better.
I'll be sending out around five chapters of preview. I'd like to add a few warnings here for those of you contemplating continuing.
My characterization of each character may be a bit skewed or OOC to fit the story and universe. I understand if this bothers you, and feel free to point it out, but some OOCness is expected, so don't be surprised if they don't behave they way you expect them too.
Furthermore, I'm terrible at writing romance. I'm trying not to subject myself to regular pitfalls, like one character effectively worshiping the other; however, such things will happen throughout the story, sometimes intentionally for development, sometimes not. Their relationship will change, obviously, from when they are eleven to when they're sixteen or above. If there's any advice to be given, please do tell. I'm listening.
Finally, understand that I frequently have difficulty establishing a story. Don't judge it based on only the first two or three; I highly suggest you reach past chapter four before you decide to drop or follow this story. Thank you.