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SIYE Time:7:48 on 20th April 2024
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Do Over
By Jeograph

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Category: Time-Turner Challenge (2014-2), Buried Gems, Time Turner Challenge (2014-2)
Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Oliver Wood, Other, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Sirius Black
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Romance
Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 34
Summary: Harry plods toward his death, toward the Dark Lord to give himself up, to make the greatest sacrifice of his life. Literally, his life. He goes to meet Death... But Death finds him first, and wants to make a deal. The question is Harry, do you think you can make things better? If you could make it all different. Would it all be better?
Hitcount: Story Total: 15226; Chapter Total: 2696





Author's Notes:
On to the big event! Harry faced Voldemort! Yes, we are jumping around in time a little, but then again, it's a time travel story, so why shouldn't we? Sorry, to anyone who tried to read this before the formatting problem was fixed. Big thanks to SeekerDestiny for his amazing Beta work. Update: Chapter has been re-edited by Arnel. Thank you so much!




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Chapter Three

Time is Seldom Time Enough



Halloween night, 1981.



Harry crouched beneath the trees outside the little cottage in Godric's Hallow. He'd been looking for the house for some time. He knew where it was located, having been there in another time, but finding it in this time, while under a Fidelius Charm, had proven a bit problematic. He followed his hunch that his parents could not resist the festivities of All Hallows' Eve, and so he was not surprised that an exception had been created for the holiday and around noon the cottage had become visible in what had previously appeared to be a vacant lot. Under a Disillusionment Charm, he was there to see the evenings trick-or-treaters come and go.


His heart had leapt every time he watched his mother, or father, open the cottage door and happily dispense treats to the eager children. He could not help but smile each time he'd caught a glimpse of his younger self dressed in an adorable lion costume, smiling and giggling. Even then, it seemed, his parents were anticipating his placement in Gryffindor house.


He wanted to run into the house, throw his arms around his parents, hug them tightly, and warn them to run. He knew such contact would be far too dangerous. He had already caused too many deaths, changed things too drastically. He was more determined than ever to finish this game and protect his younger self from the life he remembered. The trick-or-treaters had dwindled as the night wore on, till eventually the streets had grown silent and the lights had dimmed in the surrounding houses, and the cottage itself appeared to fade away once more. It was approaching midnight. Time was getting short and he was unsure how this would all play out. He was too close to fail now, not after coming so far.


Movement caught his eye and he could see two figures approaching up the road. One was tall and lean, wearing a hooded cloak; the other shorter and slightly built, hunched at the shoulders. This was it. But where was the snake... Where was Nagini? It would all be for nothing if she was not with her master. She was the final Horcrux, and because she was a living creature she was the most defenseless of the six. Voldemort would keep her near, but where was she?


Harry crept toward the gate between the low wall and the hedgerow. The gate opened and the two figures proceeded up the walk. Harry sensed the beginning of panic and he clutched his wand tighter in one hand, the hilt of a Black ancestral dagger in the other. He had honed the blade to razor sharpness in preparation for this night. Voldemort stopped several paces from where he obviously knew the house to be, and pulling out his wand began reciting a ward detection spell. The result came quickly as several layers of wards began to appear, translucent and wispy but clearly evident. The cottage became visible once more.


"Master, perhaps the wards are too powerful, perhaps we should..." Wormtail whined pathetically.


"Quiet, coward!" Voldemort commanded. "You have already betrayed the Potters. Your only role now is to protect Nagini while I dispatch the child." Voldemort turned. In full concentration he began to counter the wards.


Harry stopped holding his breath. Nagini is here, he thought, It could all still work.


Then he saw her, slithering under the gate, cautiously following her master's voice, her long tongue tasting the air. She stopped, and turning her head toward Harry, she whispered. "Who hides there, friend or foe?"


She was much smaller than the snake Harry remembered from his previous encounters. But while he remembered her, she could have no knowledge of him in this place and time.


"I know your master, Nagini," Harry whispered back in Parseltongue. He did, in fact, know much more about her master than he could say, so the statement was not a lie. Which was a good thing because it is difficult to lie in snake language.


"You, can speak," Nagini stated with what passed as surprise for the cold blooded creature. "Why do you hide?" she asked while slithering a bit closer.


"Because, I do not trust the frightened one, he is panicky and I fear duplicitous. He may betray your master at any moment," Harry replied quickly, again, without telling the snake a lie.


Nagini slithered even closer and raised her head up behind the hedge to the height of Harry's face. "Yes," she whispered finally after a tense pause, "he is vermin, but he has knowledge my master needs." She paused again. "You are wise to hide, even if you are here for our protection. My master does not take kindly to any who act without his order." The snake paused a third time. "I will not reveal your presence," she whispered finally.


The wards around the cottage collapsed and with only a deeply satisfied chuckle, Voldemort proceeded to the door and thrust it open with a silent spell. Without even a hesitant step the Dark Lord disappeared into the house.


Harry could see lights flicker to life in the upper windows and he knew he had precious little time. He stood up behind the bushes, still concealed by his Disillusionment Charm; he could feel anger coursing through his bones.


Wormtail turned suddenly and looking at the spot where Harry stood, brandished his wand calling, "Who's there?"


Nagini slithered forward from beneath the hedge. "Oh, it's just you," Wormtail said dismissively. "Stupid snake," he said under his breath.


Harry dropped his Disillusionment Charm. "You brought him to the Potters," Harry said flatly, "How does it feel to betray your friends who trust you?"


"Stupefy!" Wormtail cast in a panic.


Harry easily deflected the attack with a shield. As expected, Wormtail transformed into his rat form, but Harry was ready, hit him with his own Stunning Spell and the plump rat rolled immobile into the grass. "A small treat for you Nagini," he said in Parseltongue. "Let's call it a thank you."


The snake looked back momentarily and in an instant was on the still rat, extending her lower jaw and swallowing the rat whole.


Harry cast an urgent look at the house and heard the sound of spell blasts. His father was obviously dueling with Voldemort.


He moved toward Nagini cautiously. "Tasty?" he asked.


Nagini turned, extending her body upward to help the rat slip down her throat. "Yes, thanks," she hissed.


The Dagger flashed faster than the snake could react and its head dropped clean from its body. Harry paused for only a second as sickly green smoke rose from the severed neck of the snake's corpse with a pathetic other worldly scream. He dropped the dagger, and in a panic turned and bolted for the cottage door. Harry had not been fast enough. All of his planning and work and he was failing to save his parents. If that was how fate would have it, at least he would save himself and the people he loved in his memories from a life threatened by Voldemort.


At the base of the stairs he saw his father's lifeless body, but he could not pause. He forced himself forward taking the stairs four at a time. He reached the top and faced the open door.


There before him, beyond the edge of Voldemort's billowing robe, was his mother. She was standing before his cot, wandless, pleading, and the words she was speaking struck Harry as an unwelcome memory. He froze. "No, anything, anything, just don't hurt my son, don't hurt Harry," Lily Potter screamed.


"Move out of the way, you stupid woman, or you will lose your life as well. One of my favored has plans for you," Voldemort said.


Panic flashed in his mother's eyes, and Harry suddenly realized it was Snape. Voldemort had promised his mother to Snape! Despite Snape's memories from a future Harry alone remembered, memories that had swayed Harry's opinion and made him feel grateful to the man; despite his actions and his professions of a life long love for Harry's mother, here in this moment, Snape's motivations were clear. What was most clear to Harry was that Snape's obsessions had nothing to do with anything remotely similar to real love. The epiphany sickened Harry and bile rose in his throat.


Lily turned her back on Voldemort and Harry knew, he remembered, even though he could not hear her now, that she was saying, "Harry, my darling boy. Mummy loves you, always."


Harry's mind screamed, but before a sound could reach his lips he heard Voldemort's voice, "Avada Kedavra!"


The sickly green light issued forth from the Dark Lord's wand and engulfed Lily Potter. An expression of horror on her face, she fell dead at the foot of baby Harry's cot.


Harry's voice exploded, a single word, issuing forth with the resonance of thunder upon a stormy plain. "NO!" In that instant a force of unbridled magic burst from Harry's wand, streaming at Lord Voldemort with all the anger and hatred, anguish, confusion, and purity of love that ever rested upon the young man's soul. The blinding burst struck the Dark wizard like an explosive blast, dragging with it and demolishing everything in its path.


When Harry's vision cleared he was standing at the top of the stairs. The hallway and carpet were scorched and black, the wallpaper bubbled and torn. The doorway and front wall of the nursery were simply gone. The furniture and wall hangings of the nursery were crushed to dust, the windows blown out by the frames, the ceiling and walls collapsed. All that remained untouched was his mother's body and the baby's cot, which were surrounded by a shield of pure love. The baby Harry sat sobbing quietly in the cot, confused shock evident in his cubby expression.


Against the far wall Voldemort stood charred and burned, his flesh still smoldering sickeningly, against the bare blackened brick.


Harry stepped forward cautiously. A strained low chuckle filled the air and Voldemort's eyes snapped open. He peeled himself from the brick, literally leaving remnants of cloak, clothing and flesh stuck behind him. "You cannot beat me, whoever you are. I cannot be killed," he proclaimed ominously, "I am far greater than this weak vessel of bone and flesh." He lumbered a step forward.


Harry reached where there had once been a doorway. "You are wrong, Tom," he said weakly. "I will beat you. You can be killed. I have already done it, six times."


"Impossible," Voldemort screamed with false confidence. Harry could see the glint of panic in Tom Riddle's eyes. Voldemort raised his arm painfully, leveling his charred, but whole wand at Harry. "Avada Kedavra," he screamed angrily.


The spell issued forth as though in slow motion and Harry watched it come. The sickly green light engulfed him. Harry felt it, like an invisible force trying to turn him inside out. He felt something break off inside himself, like a leach dowsed in salt. His scar burned worse than ever he remembered. There was an audible pop and he felt blood streaming down his face. But, he knew also, that the sliver of Voldemort's soul, placed inside him at this same moment in time, but in another time, was now and forever, gone.


He raised his own wand arm, surprised, and not, that his flesh glowed a sickly green–that the Avada Kedavra would yet take him, and he said, simply, "Stupefy."


It was not the most powerful spell ever cast, and it was not the death assuring Unforgivable, but it was enough. Tom Riddle, so near death already, fell painfully backward onto the rubble of brick and plaster, heaved a gurgling last breath, and ceased to be.


All pain left Harry. He stared at the body before him and watched as the last remaining sliver of twisted soul rose from the corpse and in apparent desperation flung itself at the baby Harry. The ragged, miniscule point of dim light dissipated into nothing against the magical shield still protecting the child.


He looked down on himself and watched impassively as his own body, clothing and wand included, disintegrated into nothing. Like ashes from an abandoned fire, the substance that had once been Harry Potter scattered to the wind, floating through the open ceiling and dissipated before the night sky.


Harry expected Death to appear. To his astonishment, nothing happened.


*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***



Sirius Black collapsed in a large leather chair in the small sitting room of his small flat, above Gambol & Japes in Diagon Alley. He'd just returned from Godric's Hallow with his godson Harry Potter. He had transfigured an extra dresser into a cot in his bedroom and the child was now sleeping peacefully. His best friends were dead, as was, he hoped, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The scene was a jumble and he was having trouble processing it all in his head.


About 12:30 AM, Hagrid had found him at a local pub on the alley, and asked urgently if he could borrow Sirius' enchanted motorbike. Hagrid didn't want to answer any questions, but when pressed a bit he had said only that it was urgent business for Dumbledore. Sirius had handed over the motorbike and watched as Hagrid had shot into the sky and headed full out West-southwest over Muggle London. It had taken a couple of minutes, but it soon occurred to him that, as the crow flies, that was roughly the direction of Godric's Hallow and the home of his best friends, the Potters, who were in hiding there. On impulse, he'd decided to Apparate to his friends’ home and check on them. If it was something else, well, it wouldn't be the first time Sirius had landed on the Potter's doorstep after a late night out.


When he appeared on the street in front of the cottage in Godric's Hollow, it was immediately obvious that something was wrong, very wrong. The cottage should not have been visible. Instead, it looked as if there had been an explosion. He rushed into the cottage and after finding his best friend dead on the floor he had run up the stairs to find Lily dead, an unidentified charred body and his godson, asleep in his cot.


He sent a Patronus to Dumbledore, and ignoring what he knew the man would say, he sent another to the local Magical Emergency Office.


A clap of thunder sounded outside somewhere in the distance and soon large drops of rain were pelting the windows. As the rain turned to a down pour, Sirius stood from his chair and crossed to a small table where he poured a drink from a crystal decanter. He turned to the fireplace and with a flick of his wand levitated a few more logs from the bin, into the grate, and teased the flame to a robust crackle. Returning to his chair he gulped at his drink and sat heavily again. Tears began to roll down his cheeks.


Sirius was woken by a loud knock at his door. He sat up quickly and looked around the room blearily. Soft streams of mid-morning light where entering through gaps in the curtains.


He went to the door and pulled it open. Albus Dumbledore was there, smiling weakly, carrying an official looking leather binder and sporting a tattered umbrella. Rain was falling steadily. "May I come in Sirius?" he asked.


Sirius stepped back allowing Dumbledore to follow. A soft cry sounded from the bedroom door at the back of the flat and Sirius seemed momentarily surprised. "Make yourself at home Albus," he said as he turned and went to check on his godson.


He returned a few minutes later with Harry in arm. Albus had hung up his traveling cloak and umbrella and was seated in the kitchen, the leather binder in front of him on the table.


Sirius filled the tea kettle and set it on the stove, then he opened the nearly barren ice chest and sighed heavily.


"Trouble?" Dumbledore asked.


Sirius looked at Dumbledore. "Just nothing in the flat for Harry to eat. An easily correctable problem I'd imagine."


"Ah, perhaps I can help in the short term.” Dumbledore said something quietly and immediately a half dozen house-elves, dressed in Hogwarts tea towels appeared in the room.


"You desire something, Headmaster?" they squeaked in chorus.


"Yes," Dumbledore said, addressing the elves. "Would you be so kind as to bring an appropriate breakfast for young Harry?" He gestured to the child in Sirius' arms. "And, how about you, Sirius, would you like something?"


Sirius shook his head.


"Just for Harry, then," he said to the elves.


"Immediately, sir," one of the elves replied and bowing slightly they all popped away.


Harry squirmed in Sirius' arms and focusing on his godfather made a curios noise that sounded a bit like "arf, arf!"


Sirius smiled, at Harry and said, "I am sorry, Harry, but no arf, arf, right now."


Harry frowned.


Sirius crossed to the table and sat opposite Dumbledore with Harry in his lap.


"I take it Harry is familiar with your Animagus form?" Dumbledore asked.


"You know about that?" Sirius asked.


Dumbledore chuckled. "There is very little that happens at Hogwarts that I am unaware of," he said simply.


Sirius nodded.


A highchair appeared at the end of the table and a tray of food materialized. A bowl of warm porridge, a bowl of diced fruit, a few child's biscuits, pitchers of cold milk and apple juice, along with a child sized spoon and a choice of baby bottles or Sippy-cups.


Sirius transferred Harry to the highchair and offered him one of the biscuits. Then busily prepared a smaller bowl of porridge with some of the fruit and placed it in front of Harry, with the spoon. Harry dug into it happily as Sirius prepared the Sippy-cups. When he was finished he sat back down and said, "Thank you for this, Albus."


"Happy to help," Albus said. "You know, I was half prepared to suggest Harry might be better left with his Muggle relations..."


Sirius interrupted angrily, standing at his chair and leaning into the table. "Not while I draw breath. That family is Muggles of the very worst sort!"


Dumbledore raised an open palm to calm Sirius. "But..." he continued, "Now I see him here, and see that you are obviously familiar with his care. I think that it is best he remain here."


Sirius nodded and relaxed. He had looked quite prepared to bite. He slowly eased back into his chair.


"Some adjustments will have to be made." Dumbledore continued matter-of-factly. "You may need to move to larger accommodations... I could perhaps loan you one of the school's house-elves, temporarily or you could simply hire a housekeeper." He paused. "Alternatively, I would guess Molly Weasley would be splendidly happy to help from time to time, and having two children very close to Harry's age, it might be good for Harry's development to have some… play dates, I think they are called?"


Sirius had risen while Dumbledore talked to retrieve the kettle and prepare tea. He returned to the table with the steeping pot and service tray. "I appreciate all the suggestions, Albus, and I will take them under consideration. Kreacher has put me right off house-elves I'm afraid, so I will pass on that offer."


"As you wish," Dumbledore nodded. "Still, the offer stands in cases of emergency."


Sirius turned to Harry, who was making quite a mess of himself, but had managed to get most of his meal into his mouth happily. He offered the cup of juice, which Harry took and drank noisily.


Sirius eyed the leather binder on the table. "Well, with the question of Harry settled," he began, "I expect you come with news of other matters?"


"Yes, indeed," Albus replied. "I have spent most of the morning hours at the Ministry. The charred body that was found at the scene has been positively identified as that of Tom Marvolo Riddle, better known as Voldemort. And of course Lily and James were recovered. Also, the beheaded remains of Voldemort's snake was found on the front lawn with a freshly eaten rat lodged in its gullet. The rat was removed and upon examination was found to be none other than Peter Pettigrew, in his unregistered Animagus form." Dumbledore paused, but seeing no reaction from Sirius to this news, pressed on. "After an examination of the recovered wands, one was determined to belong to Peter. The last cast spell was "Stupefy," and was concluded to have had nothing to do with the main altercation. Riddle's wand revealed three consecutive castings of the Unforgivable "Avada Kedavra." Lily's wand was found in another room and revealed no castings recent enough to have been involved. James' wand revealed an assortment of spells which have formed the basis of the Ministry's conclusion that; shortly before midnight, Voldemort arrived at the Potter's home, and after defeating the wards and front door, entered the cottage where he dueled with James. That duel ended with the first casting of "Avada Kedavra" and James' death. Voldemort, than proceeded up the stairs where he found Lily and Harry in the nursery. He again cast the Killing Curse, resulting in Lily's death. The Ministry then concludes that Voldemort cast the Curse a final time at young Harry, and in a miraculous display of instinctive, self-preservation magic, Harry released a bolt of raw magical energy sufficient to dispel the Unforgivable Curse, kill Voldemort outright, and cause the explosive damage to the home. All, while protecting himself and the body of his mother."


They both turned and looked at Harry somewhat dubiously. For his part, Harry was slouching in the highchair, his face and arms covered in porridge and bits of fruit, lightly banging the empty Sippy-cup on the tray and gurgling juice bubbles from his lips, all while an enormous bogy bubble was forming from his right nostril.


Sirius raised his wand and cast a household cleaning charm which removed the breakfast residue and cleaned Harry's face and nose.


"Right," Sirius said, protracting the word, as he turned his head back toward Dumbledore.


"That is the Ministry's official finding. Which, I might add, has already been leaked to the press. The morning addition of the Daily Prophet, is already on the stands with a banner headline of The Boy Who Lived. Further, they are reporting the death of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and heralding Harry as the savior of the Wizarding world.


Sirius dropped his forehead in his palm and said, "Oh dear." He looked up. "I take it you do not agree?"


"Let us just say I have a few more questions," Dumbledore said. "Oh, by the by, you did not happen to take a dagger with you when you went to Godric's Hollow last night?"


"No," Sirius responded with a dismissive chuckle, “why would I have done so?"


"It seems that a dagger was found on the ground near the snake," Dumbledore stated. "Precisely, a silver dagger with a thirty-centimeter blade, an ebony handle and the crest of the Black family set into the guard."


"I know that dagger, it belonged to my Grandfather Pollux. I haven't seen it in ages. As far as I am aware it remains at Grimmauld Place," Sirius said.


"It is a mystery, then," Dumbledore said. "The Ministry will be asking you about it. They are concluding, falsely, that as it is a Black family dagger, you must have brought it with you, and when confronted by the snake on the lawn, you were the one to remove said snake’s head... It might be most convenient all around, if when asked, you simply agree, and tell them that the shock of finding your best friends and godson as you did, simply made you neglect to say so."


Without much consideration, Sirius agreed. "If you think it best, Albus. It would give the ministry the nice tight conclusions they desire, and end any further investigation."


"Quite," Dumbledore agreed. “Now, lastly, as you will now be responsible for Harry, I took it upon myself, while at the Ministry, to convince Minister Bagnold to finally release the assets and properties of the Black family, seized after your Mother's death and your brother's subsequent disappearance, to you as your rightful inheritance. These papers," he pushed the leather binder across the table to Sirius, "are those which were held in the Barrister's office for you until their release. I hope you don't mind, I used my position on the Wizengamot to convince them I could be trusted to deliver to you."


Sirius reached for the binder and began to open it. "Not at all, thank you," he said.


On top of the stack of legal-looking documents was a thick sealed envelope addressed to Sirius. He picked it up and examined it. "This appears to be Regulus' handwriting." he broke the wax seal and pulled out several sheaves of folded parchment. He began to read as Dumbledore turned quietly toward Harry, magically cleared the dishes, conjured a set of wooden blocks and began to play with him.


After a few minutes, Sirius picked up some of the other pages with his free hand. "It's... Well, it’s an apology." Sirius paused a moment. "He says that he had terrible regrets after joining Voldemort's forces. He says that during the course of his service he overheard many things and began working to uncover Voldemort's terrible secret."


"And… did he?" Dumbledore asked distractedly.


"Yes... Yes, he did. It says that he learned that Voldemort, in an attempt to achieve immortality began, while still at Hogwarts, to create a series of something called Horcruxes."


Dumbledore's attention was immediately focused back on Sirius and the letter.


"Six to be exact, which, with himself included, formed a set of seven separate vessels containing parts of Voldemort's soul. He says that with the help of a friend he was able to locate all six Horcruxes and destroyed four of them. It was his hope that his friend would be able to destroy the last two and therefore be able to kill Voldemort."


"Which offers a plausible explanation for our mystery man with a Black family dagger." Dumbledore said. "Does he name the friend?"


"No," Sirius answered. "He goes on to say how sorry he is that he joined Voldemort at all and how he regretted our differences as brothers. He says that he is writing down for me lists of all the Death Eaters he is aware of, the locations from which Voldemort and the Death Eaters operated, all the people he knew to have been placed under the Imperious Curse, as well as all the families and individuals he knew to be inactive, but voluntary political and financial supporters of the Dark Lord."


Sirius brandished the lists. "This is incredible. The information contained here goes on and on.


"He concludes by pleading that I act on this information to set right all the wrongs that he and others performed in Voldemort's name," Sirius said, reading the letter again. "He ends the letter, simply, I am so entirely sorry, Regulus. But, there is a note at the end in someone else's hand. It reads, 'I am certain Albus Dumbledore will be enormous help in using this information to set things to rights. H.'"


Sirius turned the parchment over in his hand to see if there was anything more. "That is it, Albus."


"It certainly seems we have important work to do," Dumbledore said, taking the offered letter from Sirius and examining it curiously.


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Chapter Four
Time and Time Again


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