The Beginning
Harry stands, leaning against a cold brick wall in an even colder alley. A dull gray smoke, traveling into the dark sky above him. The long drag from his cigarette is his only savior in the dreadful town. This town had a handful of homes, but a graveyard full of at least a hundred bodies. According to the paper on the target, this town had been a very important one during the first wizard war. Many lost their lives, but Harry saw no importance in this dread of a tow.. It was nothing but a dead end. A dud on the end of a cigarette. Harry looked down the street, seeing identical houses on all sides, every lawn perfectly mowed, every car perfectly parked. Harry's greatest wish was to leave as soon as possible. This small street was a touch perfect for his mind. A street full of muggles, most likely. All could've been killed if he hadn't been sent on this mission when he was. His latest Aura mission was to retrieve a cruciatus victim from their home before they hurt their own family, however, the mission was simple, easy even. And this left Harry with more time to take a break. Harry quite liked being able to get away from the others, to find a quiet corner of the world that was all his, somewhere he could think. He may not be as smart as Hermione, but he was still quite intelligent. Infact, he was currently trying to find a way to visit his parents' memories from their school years. Now, he could go ask them for a story, or even use a pensive bowl, but the problem with both of these options would be: his parents need to be alive. Besides, Harrys trying to not have to resort to trying to learn necromancy. Not only is it one of the most dangerous methods of magic, but also the hardest to learn. And as smart as Harry is, his patience is only so thick.
As the cigarette bud dies out, Harry flicks it onto the ground, stomping on it with his black combat boots he inherited from Sirius. Unlike most combat boots, this didn't have the silver circles for the laces, no, these were plain black plastic ones that blended into the shoes. Sticking one hand into the pocket of his black leather jacket, yet another inheritance from Sirius, Harry pulls out a pack of gum to get rid of the smell of nicotine. He promised Ginny he'd try to quit, but when you're the boy who lived, the stress tends to outweigh the want of good health. As he chews on the minty gum, Harry puts on his emerald green scarf, something Ginny mentioned brought out his eyes, but Harry knew better. He didn't buy it to match his eyes, he bought it to remember his first love. Someone else who died, protecting him. Harry glanced at his watch and realized it was finally time to Apparate home.
Opening the front door to the small potter cottage, a house he inherited from his father, he was meet with a sticky note on the fridge
“Gone on a trip for a quidditch match, burgers in the fridge if you'd like.
xoxo-Gin”
Ginny must've made it to the final tournaments if she's gone for the weekend. Harry pulls the burgers out of the fridge, and starts to cook them in the skillet. He only cooks one, but it's all he's hungry for.
Once Harrys finished with his dinner, he sits down in his office. Its a nice room, a cozy one even. Two walls are both lined with bookshelves, full of books and other trinkets from over the years. He has his desk right under the window and a cork board on the last remaining wall. He has some photos of him and Ginny, as well as some of him, Ron and Hermione. But his favorite photo is one of him and his first love. They sat in the snow of Hogsmeade in their 6th year, and Harry took the photo. Both of them were smiling as snow glistened in his lover's blonde, short hair. He kissed the photo for good luck before he tried to mess with a spell. And so that's what he did. Harry stood in the middle of the room and looked over some notes. With the notes provided if he used a Retro spell, mixed with a Tempus wand waving, he should go back a few seconds. One thing Harry forgot to take into account, was his terrible pronunciation of words.
As the blinding fog settled, Harry opened his eyes. He was no longer in his office, or even his house. He also felt shorter, and younger. Harry ran to find the closest mirror. Looking in the mirror, he starred in it. Taking in every little detail of his face. The lighting bolt scar was now more prominent as it traveled over the right eye, in jagged little lines going all directions. His skin looked slightly darker, healthier even, he saw his mullet as well. Was he 14? Okay.. so his body went back in time, and he's in a different house, a house he doesn't even recognize. He remembered noticing paper on the nightstand in the bedroom he appeared in. He walked back in there, maybe he accidentally went back to 1994? As Harry grabbed the Daily Prophet, however, he was not expecting to be met with today's date being June 13th, 1974. Harry grabs the letter next to the newspaper. It's addressed to him, but how? He only just appeared in this timeline. Opening the letter he carefully read its contents:
Dear Harry J. Potter
You have tampered with dark magic and the bound of times in need to fulfill your selfish desires. We will work very hard to reverse this magic, but it is seeming to be impenetrable at this moment. We expect you will have to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please use a concealing charm as well as a false identity. And whatever you do, do not interact with people unless deemed absolutely necessary. We cannot have you changing the ways of time, as one small conversation may change everything in the future. Your wand and clothes have been left on the bed. This cottage is abandoned and there is also money in the pouch. Good luck.
-The Ministry of Time
If Harry was sure of anything, it was that he had never even heard of the ministry of time. He proposes that's the point, as it seems to be a secret. But one small sentence caught his eye. “One small conversation may change everything in the future” what if he could stop the war before it even started? What if he got to live with two happy parents? No one had to die. Not Sirius, not Remus, or James, or lily, or even peter. And most of all, Draco. He loves ginny, but they both knew if given the choice they would chose someone else to fall in love with. He could live happily with Draco. Now harry knew for certain, this was his one chance to be happy, to not be abused. So fuck the ministry of time, he didn't care if this was selfish he knew that if he ever wanted to know his parents, to save their life's and everyone else's, he’d have to save the future, again. It truly was becoming quiet an annoying inconvenience, but if he could save his parents, he'd be okay with the inconvenience.