Chapter 1: The Life Recalibration
Initial Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other recognizable characters (or other properties) that may appear in this work of fanfiction. All rights associated with those properties belong to their respective owners. This disclaimer applies for all additional chapters that may be added to this story.
Harriet Potter was many things. Quiet, sure. Socially awkward, yes. Rude by wizarding standards, considering she hadn't been told what those standards were, big yep with the pop at the end. A poor student, yes, she'd cop to that. However, she wasn't stupid. As a result, she'd been completely shocked by the knowledge that her parents had faked their deaths on Halloween of 1985 when she was just 1 year old.
Dumbledore had not only known but helped them. They had left her behind as bait, a 'necessary sacrifice for the Greater Good' as the old man had the audacity to explain it. Then he proceeded to lie his ass off to Wizarding Britain and spin a mostly fictitious story of the 'Girl-Who-Lived.' They had then allowed her to be sent to Durzkaban and Sirius to Azkaban, two prisons that were hell on Earth for their respective occupants. She had slaved away at the Dursleys while her actual parents were still alive and happy. She didn't have the words to express her disgust and anger. It hurt her to know that even the worst of the Dursley, Snape and Malfoy insults about her parentage didn't compare to reality.
Then she had learned that had she not been 'contaminated' by Voldemort, they were going to marry her off to Ronald The Abusive Pig Weasley. Apparently, half of the liberties the bastard had taken with her were because he knew that she was supposed to die at the end. Wasn't that the killer? She was supposed to die. Killed by Voldemort or one of his minions. Then the real hero would show up, the one who was actually trained by Dumbledore, and he would kill Voldemort.
The wolf in her howled in rage. The wolf was always furious and usually Harriet was able to suppress it. Tonight, though she felt like letting it loose. She wanted to tear the traitors to pieces, limb from limb. Yet she clamped down on the wolf and reluctantly kept it contained. She had learned early on that there was a time to fight and a time to flee. This was one of the times to flee.
"Winky," she whispered quietly.
"Yes, Mistress," replied the elf appearing.
"Have you been able to get the supplies we were going to use this summer?"
"Yes, Mistress. Winky has everything on the list."
"And nobody else knows?"
"No Mistress. No one knows. Does Mistress need to leave now?"
"I need to leave yesterday."
"Would last week be better, Mistress?"
"You actually got them," asked Harriet, her eyes widening in surprise.
"It was as Mistress says, super easy, barely an inconvenience. Winky is sorry that she wasn't able to save Mistress's dogfather."
"Neither of us could do anything. I don't know who killed him, but stunning spells drop people to the ground. They don't send people sideways. What options do we have regarding Time?"
"Mistress can get a maximum of 11 days and 11 hours if she uses all the sandy glasses in the sequence. However, Mistress will have to live out the entire sequence before using any of the sandy glasses again."
"So, the larger turners are limited to one use per turn," she noticed Winky's nod, "You'll be able to come with me right?"
"No, Mistress. But Winky will meet you once your new present self appears."
"Will you be able to fake my death?"
"Winky will need Mistress's help. She needs Mistress to cast sickly green spell and hit her copy with it. Then Winky will need Mistress's wand to put in copy's hand."
"Let's do it and then pop me to the Shack. I should be able to make my way to Gringotts from there."
Once in the Shrieking Shack, Harriet attached each of the Time Turners to her ears since Winky had been diligent enough to make them into earrings with elf notice-me-not charms embedded on them. She placed the three turners with durations measured in hours (1 hour, 3 hours, and 7 hours in that order) on her left ear and the three turners with durations measured in days (1 day, 3 days, and 7 days in the order) on her right ear. While she hadn't expected Winky to get so many Time Turners, she should have realized that Barty Crouch Senior, despite being an absolute bastard, had trained Winky to perform at her peak abilities. So not only did she have the 6 different time turners, the Time section of the Department of Mysteries was so damaged that they would never realize that a lot of their turners had walked off.
Yes, she was aware that she would age up every time she used the Time Turners. Did she particularly care? No. She wasn't expecting to live to be Dumbledore's age let alone McGonagall's. So, accelerating her age with Time Turners wasn't a concern for her. Right now, she needed the advantage they could give her. So, she used each of her Time Turner earrings once and went back in time the full 11 days and 11 hours.
Now what could she do? She couldn't change things at the Ministry. Mainly because it was already three days too late. Also, there was too much risk of her causing a paradox. Headquarters. She was not leaving what remained of Paddy's stuff to the bloody useless Order of the Phoenix. They'd destroy half of it and hock the rest. With a soft pop, she vanished and reappeared in Grimmauld Place.
"Kreacher," she snarled.
The elf appeared and gulped as he noticed her anger, "Yes Black Mistress."
"I gave you explicit orders concerning Paddy. Why weren't they followed?"
"Disgraceful mutt used Lord Black card. Kreacher could not stop him."
"Really," she asked dangerously, "You couldn't stop him, or you didn't want to stop him? The truth now Kreacher."
"Didn't want," muttered the elf.
"So, you let the last of the main line Blacks get himself killed because you put your grudge against the good of the House. I was able to save the relics and books, was I not?"
"Yes, Black Mistress was."
"I could only do that because Lord Black gave me authority over the house in his name. Now my position is tenuous. More so because in 11 days I will be faking my death to get away from the Bearded Lemon Fucker and my actual parents. Once that happens the Ministry and every vulture with Black blood in them will try to claim House Black for themselves. At that point, I cannot stop them. Your actions have doomed House Black."
"Black Mistress must be wrong," replied Kreacher in a panic.
"I have brothers apparently and the Black line prefers men to hold the title. It will either choose one of them or it will allow a Malfoy to take over. The Potters who worship Dumbledore and despise anything that's not a specific shade of light or Malfoy who will always prize his Bad Faith over House Black. Search your feelings Kreacher, you know this to be true."
"No! Noooo!"
"Kreacher," she snapped, "I want all the family wands brought forward for my inspection. Then I want you to relocate all the Goblin made artifacts to the family vault at Gringotts. I also want all the books in the library relocated to Gringotts. Any potions and potions ingredients are to be sold, and the coinage is to be placed into the Black family vault. Any Black Family wands that I haven't chosen will go back into the Family vault. Any Black artifacts or books that have been stolen or 'borrowed' by the Order of the Phoenix and their allies will be recalled and placed in the vault. The Black Family tapestry will be the last thing that goes into the vault. Do you understand Kreacher?"
"Yes, Black Mistress."
"Good, bring me the Ward book, ink and quill."
He disappeared for a moment and then brought the wands, Ward book, ink and a quill. Harriet opened the Ward book and proceeded to scratch out all the names of the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters. She rewrote the names of Nymphadora Tonks, Andromeda Tonks and Theodore Tonks in the Family section along with her own name, those of the Malfoys and Bellatrix's. However, for every name but hers in that section, she added a note to prevent entry for 21 days from the present. She knew the note would vanish from the book the moment that the time elapsed. It would also help keep them from realizing that she was responsible for the changes.
Then she tested out the wands. Like Ollivander's most of the wands didn't work. Then she found one that did. She was surprised to find that it was made of three different woods that were blended together. The wand was also dyed a dark purple rather than retaining its natural colors. She was more surprised when the wand pricked her after showing its compatibility. She felt it testing her just like she had tested it. After a few long minutes, it seemed satisfied with her and bonded to her. She felt a rush of power that was much better than what she had experienced when picking up her Holly and Phoenix wand.
"Kreacher," she waited for the elf to reappear, "Whose wand was this before it bonded with me?"
"Hydra Circe Black," replied the elf looking surprised, "Kreacher is surprised that wand is here. Kreacher could have sworn that it was elsewhere."
"What can you tell me about it?"
"It is an old wand. Far older than Kreacher. It is made of Cyprus, Desert Willow and Oak. The core is Hydra venom, Nemean lion fur and shards of Promethean chains."
"Anything else?"
"No, Mistress Black. Kreacher is no wand expert. Kreacher can only tell what it is made of and age due to how the magic feels."
"Is there a specific wand holster that goes with this wand?"
"Kreacher will look."
He came back with a dark purple scaly holster which jumped onto Harriet's forearm the moment it was in the same room as her and the wand.
"Thank you Kreacher."
The elf vanished to get back to work. Harriet was glad to have found a wand. She knew she didn't need one but if she had a lot of things that she needed to cast in a row a wand helped a lot. She'd have to look through the Black family library and see if she could find anything on the wand's former owner. From what she remembered of Greek mythology; the last two wand cores shouldn't even exist. Yet they were in her wand. While it wasn't a bad feeling per say, she did nonetheless have a feeling that despite fleeing Dumbledore her life wasn't going to get any less 'interesting.'
Author Note: Fair warning my muse likes to jump prompts. If a story hasn't been marked as complete but also hasn't gotten updates in a bit, my muse is likely being uncooperative and I have writer's block on that story. There will be an Author's note added to the last chapter (and an update to the summary) if a story is being discontinued
