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Chapter 1: Into The Past

He rolled over, only for his forehead to be greeted by the wall. Ugh. This is why you shouldn't put your bed against the wall.

He jolted awake. The wall?! Their bed wasn't against the wall! It was right in the middle of the room. Harry had insisted on this when they shifted into their new home.

And why was it so dark?! Their room wasn't this dark, even at late at night! Clevedon Court was a very bright home, surrounded by light on all sides.

"Up! Get up! Now!" Harry started. Someone rapped on the door again. "Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. Was he at the Dursleys!? He had left them years ago! How was he back in his cupboard?! He clearly remembered cuddling with Ginny after a long night at the Auror Office.

Had he dreamt it all!? No, it couldn't be! It wasn't a dream. It couldn't be a dream. That would mean his life wasn't real. The life he had made with Ginny, and the Weasleys. How could he have dreamt a life 13 years into the future, and in such detail? It wasn't possible. Or had something else happened? Was he in the past? No, time travel wasn't possible. They had destroyed all the ministry time turners in 1995. Unless, he had actually traveled into the past? But why wasn't he in his 23 year old body? If you time-travelled, then you would be in your own body, not in your younger self's body! His mind raced thinking of all the different possibilities. His aunt was back outside the door. "Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Yep." He got up and opened the door. "Get a move on. I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn! I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday." Aunt Petunia said.

It was Dudley's birthday? How old was he? What year was it? He walked over to the stove and started cooking. Was any of this real? Was he in the past? Had someone cursed him?! No, Ginny would have realized, wouldn't she? A horrible thought occurred to him. Was she real?! His best friends, Ron and Hermione, were they real? Had he dreamt his future life? If it was a dream, then why would he dream about going to sleep? And going to the bathroom? It was too detailed to be a dream. He could remember every single detail, like his dreams about Ginny, his visions, little snippets of personalities. Why would his subconscious be so conscious?

Could he actually have travelled to his younger body? He looked down, and realized that he could only around 9 or 10 years. He looked older than a 7 year old, and he wouldn't be cooking like this after Hogwarts. Hogwarts! Was it actually real? It had to be! He wouldn't believe otherwise. Hogwarts was his first home, and it would stay that way. Oh, I wish there was some indication that this was all real. I have no idea if this is just a dream or something else. He heard someone come down the stairs, and walk into the kitchen. It was Uncle Vernon. "Comb your hair!" he barked at Harry.

Harry was frying eggs when Dudley came into the room. He started counting the presents on the table, which had been overflowing and fully covered with gifts. "Thirty-Six." He frowned. "That's 2 less than last year." "Darling, you haven't counted Aunt Marge's present, under this big one from Mummy and Daddy!"

"Alright, Thirty-Seven, then." Petunia obviously anticipated danger, because she quickly reassured him. "We'll buy you another 2 presents when we go out. How's that darling? Another 2 presents." Harry, as a kid, had thought they were being incredibly unfair, but looking at it from an adult's perspective, he realized it was just bad parenting. Petunia and Vernon had not only been bad parents towards himself, but also their own son, Dudley.

Though, he also realized that this scene was very familiar. It must have been Dudley's 11th Birthday. That meant he would be getting his Hogwarts letter in a week or so. He was hoping he would get to keep the letter, because the first letter is always important. But he would gladly give it up, if it meant he would get his first proper bedroom. But he made sure that he would keep the one he got from Hagrid. He vaguely registered Vernon praising Dudley. He snorted to himself. As if the kid needed more encouragement.

He heard the telephone ring, and Petunia going to answer it, while both he and Vernon watched Dudley rip open his presents. Petunia came back from the telephone looking both worried and angry.

"Bad news, Vernon. Mrs. Figg's broken her leg and can't take him." She said, jerking her heard in his direction. Dudley's mouth fell in horror, while Harry's heart gave a leap. They were going to the Zoo! Should he free the Boa Constrictor? While he didn't want the punishment, he thought it was worth scaring the Dursleys. "Now what?" Looking furiously at Harry as though he caused this, Petunia asked Vernon.

"We could phone Marge." Vernon suggested. "Don't be silly, she hates the boy." "What about what's-her-name, your little friend, Yvonne?" "On vacation in Majorca." Petunia snapped. "Well, I suppose we can take him…..and leave him in the car…" "The car's new; he's definitely not sitting in it alone…" Dudley began to cry loudly. Harry rolled his eyes. "Dinky Duddydums, don't worry, Mummy won't let him ruin your special day!" Dinky Duddydums?! Harry started sniggering. He had completely forgotten about Dudley's unique nicknames as a child. "I don't want him to come! He always spoils everything!" Not that Petunia had stopped calling her son her special nicknames.

The doorbell rang. "Oh, Good lord, they're here!" Petunia frantically ran to open the door. A moment later, Piers Polkiss entered. Harry remembered him being part of Dudley's gang, and also one of his biggest bullies. Half an hour later, Harry found himself sitting squished between Piers and Dudley in Vernon's new car. Vernon had reluctantly agreed to take him along, but had threatened Harry before they left. He started complaining as he drove along the road. Harry, people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, and the bank were just a few of his favorite subjects. He seemed to love complaining.

They reached the crowded zoo. He registered getting an ice lolly, getting to finish Dudley's Knickerbocker glory, and heading to the reptile house after lunch. The reptile house! Harry needed to vanish the glass! They entered it and Dudley immediately ran up to the largest one there. Harry walked over there too. Dudley had his nose pressed against the glass. Harry had the urge to vanish the glass there and then, but he knew he had to wait.

Since the snake was sleeping, Dudley got bored pretty quickly. He waddled over to some other snakes that seemed to be awake. The last time he had been here, he could only hear hisses all around, but now he could clearly hear some slurred English as well.

Slowly, the snake woke and looked up at him. It gave him a plain look saying, "I get that all the time." "It must be annoying, eh?" Harry started conversing with the snake. He knew it was only a matter of time before Dudley saw this and came back. As if on cue, Dudley waddled back towards him and shouted at his parents to come look at what the snake was doing. Harry got pushed on the floor, but didn't mind. It allowed him to vanish the glass discreetly. He silently vanished the glass, letting Dudley fall in. The snake slithered out, thanking him. Harry happily welcomed the snake and let it roam free. He looked up to see Vernon glaring at him.

He got up, dusted himself off, and walked off towards the entrance. He was honestly proud of himself for managing it so discreetly. A few moments later, the Dursleys, with Piers in tow, walked out. Vernon grunted at Harry to follow them. He stepped slightly behind the group of four as they walked towards their car and got in quickly. The drive back to the house was silent and subdued. They dropped Piers off home and went to Number 4 fairly quickly.

Vernon grunted at Petunia to bring him a beer and ordered him to go to his cupboard. He turned his back to them, grinning, and entered his cupboard.

He hoped he would get his letter soon, because clearly he was magical.

He went to sleep, and for once in his childhood, he didn't dream of anything.