Hey guys…. This is an HP fanfiction I’ve been thinking of doing for some time… Tell me if I should continue! First chapter should be up by Friday but it depends on all the votes and comments I get….!
Harry sat in front of the fire in silence, pain cursing through his heart as he thought of what this war had cost him. The person he loved, the person who was worth more than life to him, the person he would have happily sacrificed his own life for.
The war had been a success. The light had won and now Voldemort was dead in the deeps seas of hell. The fact that Harry's body was alive, his heart beating and his lungs breathing did not matter in the slightest, as what made him Harry was more than dead.
Reflected on his glasses, the fire sizzled and crackled. Its warmth the lone comfort Harry had. The spark of life and hope had been extinguished from his eyes, the green orbs turning duller and darker as his mind went over the spiral of events that cost him everything he had held dear.
The Weasley clan, his family in all but blood, had helped in the final battles finally leaving only Ron and Ginny to live for them. Months and years passed in a blur of battles, death and inconsolable years until Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville were left to fight against Voldemort. They were too young to have been condemned by Voldemort personally to die at his hands. They were too young to have forgotten about their dreams and hopes. But they had.
In the blink of an eye, they saw death at every corner. They somehow managed to stick together, and perhaps the horrors of the war brought them closer than the most fabled of lovers. It was no surprise that they had married shortly after the deaths of the others.
With only the six of them left, they had decided to pursue one last desperate plan, but the plan had failed. The one person Harry had been trying to keep out of the whole danger, the one person who was more than life to him, and the one person who he loved, married and wanted to grow old with died in front of his eyes. Ginny had died only a week ago and had left Harry. No matter how many consolers had come, no one could help him let go of his hurting. His regret on how he could have sacrificed himself, instead of putting HER in that position…
Perhaps the most tragic thing was that Harry had found a very rare spell book in the Potters' library just three days after the death of his wife. In it were spells that Harry was sure could have been used to help them defeat Voldemort and, perhaps, escape with his whole family intact.
It was in this book Harry noticed a spell to change the past. To put right what once went wrong. It would send Harry back in time, not as Time-Turners did, but actually allow him to relive his life and, hopefully, correct the wrongs.
Harry had decided to go back to his eleventh birthday. Where it had all started. So that was why on Harry's twenty-first birthday he found himself in his basement reciting a ritual which would send him back in time in order to stop Voldemort, before he had toppled the Ministry of Magic, before he had caused Dumbledore's death, before his family had died, before Sirius had fallen, before the pain, before the deaths, before the final war and before Ginny, beloved Ginny, had died.
On Harry's twenty-first birthday he decided to cast the spell. He had to recite the spell's incantation constantly for hours at a length before he felt the spell react. All of a sudden, he was dragged backwards in time, images of past time around him. All blurred with no meaning. No definition.
He closed his eyes, and hoped to arrive to a time where it was not too late to change the future. To erase what had been done and start over.