Rewriting the Timeline

Prologue

"Oh, my merlin, Potter! That's a boy! He's bleeding!" Lily exclaimed, running over worriedly to the injured boy in question. Lying there was a boy in baggy work clothing? Bloody and unconscious. There were blood covered shards stabbing through the clothes and bruises littered around his exposed skin. Lily immediately checked his heartbeat, sighing in relief that he was still alive. "Don't just stand there Potter, help me carry him!" Lily snapped as he lifted the boy. James knew all about Lily's temper, so he complied. James rushed over and carried the young boy by one side, Lily holding the other. As they walked, James glanced over at the bloodied body before his eyebrows shot up.

"Uh, Lils? Why does he look like my doppelganger?" he questioned bemused. Lily gave him an annoyed look, completely fed up with him.

"Shut up, Potter, and it is Evans to you. Now, instead of being ridiculous why don't you focus on carrying him in silence...?" Lily scolded before faltering as he took in the features on the boy's face. He did look a lot like Potter, didn't he? That was... strange. Ignoring it for now, they burst into the hospital wing without so much as a warning.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Lily screamed frantically. The medi witch looked annoyed as she gazed up before her eyes widened at the boy's condition.

"Oh my! Put him here!" Pomfrey ushered, the two placing the battered teen down on the bed. She wasted no time checking his vitals and healing the bleeding wounds. James and Lily only stood there in worry as the witch worked. As soon as most of the blood was gone, she turned to them.

"Do you know what happened?" Lily and James shook their head.

"We were in a hallway when a bright light flashed along with a crack. Then he was there," James informed. "Is he a student? He isn't wearing a uniform," James asked as an afterthought. Pomfrey glanced at the boy.

"I'm not sure, Mister Potter. Miss Evans, would you please call the Headmaster?" Pomfrey questioned, to which Lily nodded affirmatively.

"Yes Madam Pomfrey, I'll head there now." With that Lily skipped off, James deciding to follow after her.

Harry started opening his eyes, blurry vision showing up. His head was pounding and his body hurt like the Cruciatus was performed on him. He vaguely remembered the attack and the realization he'd die. Glancing down at the hospital gown he was wearing, he assumed that he didn't end up dying. He winced and put a hand on his head, was he at St. Mungos?

"Ah, you're awake." A familiar female voice stated. It sounded... familiar. Where had he heard it? Turning his head, he achily looked over to... Madam Pomfrey? But it couldn't be. It certainly looked like her, but she was so young. Before he could say anything, he heard a knock and the door creaked open. The sight that stood before him was enough for him to jump out of bed, to the distress of Madam Pomfrey.

"Professor Dumbledore?!!!!" he blurted out. That couldn't be, he was but not. This Dumbledore had a short beard with a lack of wrinkles, though there still was some. But there was no mistaking those twinkling eyes. The man gave him a raised eyebrow, hands behind his back in a nonchalant manner.

"I recognize every student that has been in this school, and you are not one of them. Yet you recognize me as your professor," the now confirmed Dumbledore stated. Harry gaped at him with comical eyes.

"Oh merlin, OH MERLIN! You actually are Dumbledore?! But you died! Why are you so young?! What is happening?!" he ranted mostly to himself. Dumbledore gestured to the door, signaling Pomfrey to leave much to her dismay. Dumbledore walked over to him.

"Last time I checked, I was alive, and I certainly look my age," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling in curiosity. Harry gazed at his face intently before his eyes widened to the point of nearly popping out. A distressed thought filled his head.

"Professor, what is the year?" he asked dreading the answer. Dumbledore gave him another curious look.

"Why, it is 1975, of course." Harry just stared disbelieving before both his hands were on his head in worry.

"FUCK!" Harry he shouted over and over as he whipped his head around. Seeing his clothes tossed aside, he frantically threw himself over and felt around the fabric before reaching his target. Pulling out from under his robes, he held onto a now cracked and slightly burnt time turner. Harry dropped his hand to his side in shock, the chain dangling onto the floor.

"Well, I guess that explains it," Dumbledore commented amused as he saw the time turner. "I'm guessing you aren't from here?" Harry nodded quickly.

"I know this is hard to believe, but I'm Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, born July 31, 1980. I'm currently from 1998." Dumbledore stared at him for a moment before humming with a nod.

"Well, that certainly makes sense. You are a splitting image of James, except your eyes are Lily's. Though you don't seem to be 15," Harry gave a weak smile.

"I'm told that a lot, and I think my body de-aged when I went back." Dumbledore hummed again.

"Well, if you would be so kind to explain some things, that'd be good." Harry sighed relieved and explained everything. From his birth, the prophecy, his adventures, the horcruxes, the battle, his experimental time turner, and how he got here. By the end, he made Dumbledore shocked. He felt weirdly proud of it.

"That's quite a tale."

"But it is true," Harry insisted desperately. Dumbledore gave him a reassuring smile.

"I believe you, but now there is a lot to figure out." Harry looked down at the sheets.

"I'm afraid there may be no way to get back. The time turner brought me this far only by coincidence, I doubt it'll happen again, not with it broken to this point. The distance it sent me probably caused it to overdrive, leading to self-destruction. I don't have the resources I need to recreate it. I'm stuck here." Harry stared at nothing for a moment before he snapped his head over to Dumbledore.

"Professor! Are my parents??" he questioned with wide eyes. Dumbledore gave him a smile and nodded.

"Yes, quite fine students they are." Harry gave a bright grin; he could see everyone! At least some news was bright. Dumbledore then continued. "Now, I'm sure you'll want to blend in right?" Harry nodded. "We'll have you sorted and claim you were a transfer student from homeschooling; you'll need to change your last name for obvious reasons too of course. I'll see it arranged for you to share a dorm with Mister Potter, Lupin, Black, and Pettigrew," Harry sneered at the last one. If Dumbledore noticed, he didn't say anything. "I'm assuming you'll also want to defeat Voldemort?"

"Of course! I know exactly what I must do after all, and I'm not a horcrux this time! You can leave it to me," Harry said determinedly. Dumbledore gave a small clap, appreciative they could solve that problem sooner.

"Excellent, well then, what shall your name be?" Dumbledore asked. Harry thought for a moment, before reminiscing back to the deathly hollows.

"Harry Peverell," he settled on. It was technically true, after all. "I grew up homeschooled by neglecting relatives. I am an orphan who doesn't know my parents, and I came here because everyone I loved had been killed by Voldemort." Harry decided to stick as close as he could to the story. That way, he wouldn't have to worry about slip ups. Dumbledore thought it was believable enough.

"Well then Mr. Peverell, let's get you sorted." And with that, Dumbledore handed him some robes to change into. Putting them on and attempting to look presentable, he followed Dumbledore through the hallways he knew so well. This would be quite the experience.