Harry Potter and the This Is a Prologue
Harry Potter hasn't slept since defeating voldemort- obviously, not intentionally, but it's been around a week since the final battle and every time he tries his damnedest to get some shut eye, he just cant. He closes his eyes, and sees the cooling corpses of children on the battlefields of hogwarts, all for the sake of what? A death eater being delayed a few scant seconds. It was vile, and he felt it eating away at him.
Harry Potter was many things; a hero, a fighter, the triwizard champion, the boy who lived and the master of death? Sure. the saviour of the wizarding world? He couldn't be that when children had died for him- not a chance.
Harry Potter begins to hatch an insane plan- if it backfired, he was almost certain that he, and a reasonable chunk of the country, would be removed from the map. Given that he was running on zero sleep and far more magical uppers than was advisory? The chance was high for it to backfire, but what if he could find a way to go back in time- not in the way one does with a time turner- although he does find himself shelving that for later- but in a way where he would be himself as a child, without the need to dance around his younger self. A plan started circling in his mind, and merlin, he would hardly call it a good one - but maybe he could infuse a polyjuice with the power of the elder wand- or- or something. It was ridiculous- but Harry found himself attached to the concept.
Another few days later, in which he had been overtaken with this fugue state, he had convinced hermione to give him the time turner that she had forgotten about- his explanation had just been "I can't let creevey die for me, 'mione- he- he was just a kid-".
It hadnt technically been a lie, and She had accepted the explanation, but Harry knew deep down that she hadn't believed him; that his excuse had been feeble and unbelievable and hermione was the smartest witch of her age, but she was also an incredible friend, one that had Harry been the type to pray, he would have prayed to God above to ensure his plan would allow their friendship once more. That it would allow for him to befriend Ron too- if he managed to get rid of pettigrew and ensure Ron wouldn't be unintentionally sleeping in the same room as a man as old as Harry's parents- to ensure Percy wouldn't have done the same? Then he would have righted at least one wrong in the world. The longer he thinks about it the more threads he might have been able to stop from unravelling. The morning after he gets the time turner, he purchases a book on ancient runes, and spends hours painstakingly discephiering the wording on the only surviving one.
His preparations take a few more days, finding the resurrection stone in the forbidden forest, the elder wand's halves from the river, his father's invisibility cloak, sourcing the oldest polyjuice potion he can- the people around him had decided he was in some kind of breakdown, and decided to let him do what he needed to to feel somewhat alright, even if his actions were seeming rather manic.
Harry steels his nerves, looking down into the polyjuice potion- with each step he takes he writes what hes doing down, to explain what he had done to himself if someone found him and his potion didn't go to plan. first, he adds the halves of the elder wand, watching as the potion begins to roil and shift colours, then, he adds the invisibility cloak- it hurts to drop it in the pot, knowing it would be destroyed if what he intended to happen didn't. The potion goes a translucent shade of gold, the scent was starting to get acrid. He then holds out the resurrection stone- he can't stop himself before he's turned it over three times in his hand. When he sees the spectre, he drops the stone into the pot in shock when for the briefest of seconds he sees draco malfoy, looking rather forlorn and uncertain- still in the same clothes he had been in at the battle.
Harry silently convinces himself that it had been a trick of the light- that what he had seen was just the fumes of the potion getting to him. He stirs the potion eight times counterclockwise. Harry then grabs the time turner, carefully he cracks it open, allowing the grains of sand to cascade into the pot, the liquid still swirling. It takes several minutes for the sand to all be out, and The golden sheen of the potion solidifies more. It hadnt exploded yet, which was rather nice.
Harry then picks up a robe, from his first year of hogwarts- the one he had worn when he originally saw the dark lord- hopefully it'd still have enough hair or cells or- whatever it actually was that polyjuice needed to be able to make him look like he had as a kid. Maybe the dust of the philosopher's stone in the pocket would help? Harry wasn't certain. Finally, he draws his phoenix feather core wand to his head, extracting a single memory- it wasn't a happy one, waking up in his cupboard before the first letter arrived to petunia's shrieking. But it was before hogwarts, before any of the deaths that he could prevent. He drops the memory into the cauldron, watching as it turned a pearly colour, wisps of golden steam oozing upwards. The entire mixture had this feeling of overwhelming power, like he was messing with something he would never truly understand.
Harry potter had faced his own death down before, he could do so again. He would do so again.
Harry Potter drops his wand into the potion- that by all rights should have just been a lumpy mess of fabric, sand and wood, but had remained a liquid- it almost looked appetising.
Harry Potter signs his name on his note, picks up a glass, drains some of his heavily modified polyjuice potion into it, and downs the liquid. For several long minutes- the second hand on his watch was moving slower than it should have been- he thinks nothing had actually happened- that he had just destroyed several one of a kind magical artefacts for no reason- then, he feels his chest cramp, and everything starts getting bigger- or, he gets smaller. Harry Potter drops to the floor, his eyes shutting.
When Harry awakens he assumes he must have been found beside his awful concoction, and taken to a bed, presumably by one of his friends- the bed is a rather comfortable one, he must add. He fumbles on the bedside table, noting the decor was rather dark- had he been brought to grimmauld place...? That's... strange, he had been at hogwarts- he pushes that aside in his mind, he had likely been unconscious for a few days, then. He glances around the room, realising that he doesn't remember it from when he had been clearing the house of artefacts with the rest of the order. He also finds it strange to not find his glasses. Then he finds it even stranger to realise he didn't actually need them anymore- the world was looking mostly clear, although he did find himself squinting the tiniest bit to pick out some details.
Harry Potter looks down at his hands in wonder- had he just invented the world's most innefficent eye-strengthener? Then Harry notices a few more things- firstly, his scars were gone- his hand no longer said "I must not tell lies". He then realises that his skin was a rather different shade- he was looking rather pale. He supposes the potion had made him unwell
Harry Potter stands- shorter than he used to be too- and walks over to a mirror.
When Harry Potter looks into the mirror he doesn't meet eyes that had always been described as being his mother's, rather he meets the eyes of an incredibly young draco malfoy. Shit.
Maybe he could work with this...