|His Second Chance
Author: Tiffany's Hogwarts Secrets PM
The Final Version of this story: He was alone in his world and Minerva saw fit to give Harry a chance to live a childhood. As James Potter's 5-year-old brother! Can Harry survive pranks and childish adventures after so long? AU! Childfic somewhatRated: Fiction K+ - English - Hurt/Comfort/Family - Harry P. - Chapters: 7 - Words: 19,981 - Reviews: 98 - Favs: 130 - Follows: 168 - Updated: 03-12-10 - Published: 07-22-09 - id: 5239774
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
His Second Chance
By Tiffany's Hogwarts Secrets
Chapter One "Start Over"
Disclaimer: I do not have blond hair and I'm too young considering I'm barely a teenager. Thus, JK Rowling owns Harry Potter 1 - 7. I simply own the patent that is A Second Chance.
Warnings: Violence, Time travel, Child fic, Spoilers, Alternate Universe, OOC!Characters, and family fluff. This is my take on two different AU Harry Potters. Rated K+ for some contents that will be said later on in the story. If you find that the rating seems to need to be bumped, then please inform me.
A/N: Probably the 3rd Time this story was written. I promise I won't be doing that again. I wrote some kind of irony in this chapter. If you look, each character that died or was injured, has a relation to how they died. Look Hermione and Malfoy Manor. It's just the what if they had not survived that kind of deal. Hope you all like it and I'll be working on His Hogwarts Years as you read this story. I actually planned this out entirely. So that long wait you've been having for His Hogwarts Years? Sorry! I've also been working as another alias on other sites to improve my writing, using other fan fictions to do so. So, hope you enjoy the story!! Early hint is that it's a four-story series. His Second Chance, His Hogwarts Years, His Growing Up, His Final Chance.
There was an odd kind of silence that night. That night that Harry James Potter stood in front of Lord Voldemort, their wands poised against each other. An audience stood around them like a snake coiling around its enemy. They were waiting with baited breath. To die or To win. Which was it? There were many scents mingling with that. One that held defeat, angst, hatred, and the strongest scent.
"Its your one last chance Riddle," spat Harry, "its all you've got left... I've seen what you'll be otherwise... Be a man... try... Try for some remorse..."
"You dare-" said Voldemort in anger only to be cut off.
"Yes I dare," said Harry, "because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle." Voldemort hissed at him and Harry could feel a satisfied smirk threatening to make its way to his impassive face. No time to think right now. Harry gound himself revealing that he had destroyed his Horcruxes (serving to further anger the snake face). There was finally silence until two voices made their way known and two different colors shot out from opposite sides of the room, from two wands.
With an electric green, yet strange light, the Expelliarmus hit Voldemort, mixed in with Avada Kedavra. The monstrous man fell to the cold, cement-made flooring, his eyes closed never to be seen again to torture an innocent. His eyes never to open to create another day of charos and misery. There was a new silence roaming the room. This world was in peace...
Tom Marvolo Riddle which was changed to Voldemort through means of murder, lay dead in front of his destroyer. A mere 17-year-old boy. With that all done, the world was rid of the evil that lasted a decade and more, Voldemort was deceased and into the realms of Hell.
Harry fell to his knees, panting in relief and exhaustion... Finally! It was over, the monster that destroyed his life was finally rid of him. Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, Master of Death, Youngest Seeker in a Century, Youngest Goblet of Fire Champion, Godson to the first person in Azkaban to escape, son of the Marauders ring leader; had finally took away the life of Tom Marvolo Riddle also known as Voldemort. He won the war, at a great cost, but was it really worth all this? Was it worth these many deaths? Harry sighed, slumping. To him... that was a no. But obviously the rest of the world did not see it as that way, taking in account of the numerous cheering and loud screams of joy that lingered in the air that night. The thunderous shouts of glee. They didn't lose so many people as The Boy-Who-Lived did...
The Minister of Magic was chosen that night, Amelia Bones, thus people once again began to build their lives for a better place. Whether they were Creature, Muggle, or Magical, it wasn't asked and thus now the world could begin to get along. It had taken so many years to do so though...
But down in the destroyed ashy headmaster's office was young Harry Potter, now of the age seventeen, sitting firmly in the headmaster's seat, staring up at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore.
Harry simply smiled saddly. Yes, Voldemort was destroyed, but he missed everyone around him. Hermione... like a sister to him... had been killed in Malfoy's Manor when they escaped and after, Dobby had died, apparating at the same time, and was killed by his former master by a spell. Molly had perished as well, attacking Bella Bellatrix in revenge for killing Ginny Weasley. Harry revealed himself at that time after and finally planted his revenge upon that woman. The insane woman who murdered her own cousin was now in the realms of hell, probably in love with the Devil who guarded her.
Tonks and Lupin died in the final battle against Dolovoh. Their baby boy, his godson, not to ever know his parents like Harry. His godson was being taken care of currently by a heart broken Andromeda Tonks. Harry didn't have the heart to face the two... To see the boy who looked like his father and mother, blended perfectly with his metamorphangus ability. He had seen George and Lee Jordan be tricked by Yaxley, and killed instantly from the man. Dolohov had been slaughtered by tiny Flitwick who was enraged at the man for killing Remus Lupin, one of his former favorite students. Hagrid had died by Macnair, trying to save the flaming forest. Fenrir Greyback, Rookwood, and Thicknesse perished throwing Percy, Arthur, Ron, and Neville to the floor in an explosion. Only Arthur had survived that mess. Neville was gravely ill and injured right now, but Harry had told his friend he owed Neville a thousand suns for saving Ron, even if he went insane. Neville died a good ten minutes after the battle... telling Harry thank you. For everything.
So many deaths. No! No more!!
This was always too much for Harry's emotionally torn heart. All those innocent people had died just to give Harry the life needed to defeat the dark lord. Why? Why did they have to die... His eyes began to burn, his throat constricted, fists clenching, teeth gritted, and his eyes squeezed themselves shut tightly. A tear threatened its way to his eyes but Harry opened his eyes again and glared at the floor until it left him and landed on the floor in a splat. For all he knew, there were still many more of his loved ones, dead and on the ground being mourned for.
Cedric Diggory a handsome man who just entered that cup and had died wanting to save Harry from the depths of dark magic and Peter Pettigrew (though he had never known who the man was). Pettigrew got his just desserts but he was betrayed like he betrayed... by his own hand given to him by his master. Ron was at St. Mundugos and insane, probably lying next to Alice and Frank Longbottom, all three victims of the Cruciatus Curse... Ron's father, Arthur, was in hiding with Muggles because he couldn't take the losses anymore. Molly had been slaughtered horribly by Bellatrix Lestrange. Sirius, his godfather, had died behind the veil but Harry was still unsure about that... Albus, saving him, stunned Harry so he couldn't get caught, died. Those eyes looking towards the now also deceased Severus Snape, so pitiful... so scared... Harry couldn't tell why they looked the way they did. He just knew those once twinkling and knowing eyes were forever in a portrait now. Speaking of which...
Albus' portrait was still staring at him in concern. Obviously something was bothering the bo- no... young man.
"Harry," said the painted and enchanted portrait of Albus Dumbledore, "are you alright?"
"I am fine, Albus. I am fine." said Harry more out of apprehension than anything else. Though he was not fine at all. He felt like he was about to break down again, but he had to hold himself strong. If not, who would? He was their blood savior after all. Saviors did not cry. They didn't...
"It is alright to cry you know." said a voice. Harry looked up and saw that it was Minerva McGonagal who had entered the office quietly. Her eyes pierced through him sharply, her hair slightly frazzled. She had fought for Hogwarts and had always shown a soft spot for Harry. He shook his head and got up, saying a quiet goodbye.
However, right as he was running to the exit, Minerva grabbed hold of his arm, spinning him around so that he came face to face with her. She clutched both of his wrists and held them in her grasp, her eyes looking deep in to the young man's eyes, searching for him. The real Harry and not the Boy-Who-Lived. When she found him. He snapped. Harry's eyes began to burn, and before long, he choked and tears blurred his sight. With a mental break, he fell right into her arms and soon Harry began blubbering and sobbing right into Minerva's open arms and crying his heart out. Minerva closed her arms around his shoulders and held him as the child, as Harry was still that in her eyes, cried his heart out. He bawled and shook, clutching her as if his life depended on it. Fawkes began circling around the two, singing the song that he had sung the night Dumbledore died. A soft and strong song that slowed the cries of the 17-year-old and eventually (hours later) Harry calmed himself. He looked up and smiled gratefully at Minerva who smiled back at him. She released one hand from him and reached into her pockets. Harry looked at her in puzzlement.
"I have something for you Harry." Minerva told him, digging in her pockets. She handed Harry the tiny item she retrieved. Harry held it gingerly and looked and studied for awhile.
It was a ring, of brass and diamond on the top of gold, with three words engraved around it's glory. Fate. In blue sparkles and a small sapphire stone dazzled below the words. Time in green with an emerald that wrapped beneath. Life in everlasting maroon. A glittering ruby under it. Minerva took it from him and held one of his fingers, slipping it on his index finger. The ring shaped itself and Harry felt as if it never was on him, even though he could clearly see the ring on his right middle finger. It weighed nothing and he felt nothing.
"I want to give you a chance to start all over. As in, make something for yourself." Minerva explained, slipping the second item over his head and locking it around his neck securely. It was a silver chain with a golden phoenix figure on the end. The smallest words were carved in to the wings. The letters; A-G-E were imprinted very neatly and it seemed as if the wings could turn and the eye could be pressed. Harry stared at them in amazement. The phoenix was gliding and shimmered if light hit it's body. Fawkes landed nearby and trilled his approval.
"These two items, were given to me by my grandfather Micheal McGonagal before he died. His adopted daughter, my aunt, was a seer who crafted these two items for a time when they were needed. I'll turn the wings around 12 times and the ring will need to be turned by yourself, around 25 times without stopping. It should send you to the time of 1972 and in the physical age of five years. The necklace de-ages you permanently so you'll be growing back up. It also acts sort of as a disguise, which means your appearance changes so that even with your black hair and green eyes, you'll not resembled a Potter much and the necklace will dim your memories for a year or two so that you won't be as effected of your past as much." Minerva smiled and (after he slowly nodded in acceptance) she gently took hold of the necklace and twisted the Phoenix's wing repeatedly a dozenth time before she quick let go and Harry felt himself wrapped in a white blinding light. He didn't feel any pain as limb by limb, he shrunk a good 12 years from his real age. He felt nothing but a sense of peace. The minute he could see again, Harry blinked nonstop before the spots cleared from his eyes and he looked up, he had to look up even more than before, to see Minerva smiling sadly down at him.
"A drawback was, you look exactly like you do when you were actually five, meaning the Dursley's abuse is showing clear as day." Minerva pointed out. Harry looked down, only to then notice his former pants and T-shirt was almost literally drowning them. They were even more larger on him considering they were Dudley's castoffs. It didn't help that Harry had bruises and cuts from his time with the Dursleys when he was young. Harry remembered clearly when his uncle had spent that entire 5th year of his life, trying harder to beat out his magic. All well, beggars can't be choosers. Right? Harry was impassive as he looked at Minerva for her to continue.
"Here." Minerva said, smiling. She knelt down and lifted Harry up from under his armpits. She stood his naked self in front of her and then eyed the clothes. She transfigured them permanently in to a nice pair of small blue overalls, red boxers, and a cute green shirt that matched his still vibrant green eyes. Harry blushed and mumbled a thank you for everything, which was whispered so softly only a werewolf or canine could pick it up, of which was similar for Minerva the cat animangus. Minerva helped him dress in to the clothing, just finishing up the last of buckling his overalls on and stringing the small white sneakers on his feet, she finally smiled and then stood up, looking at him in a fond way.
"Remember, 25 times with out stopping. Have a good life for me Harry child. This is my wish to you. But, I'll also be meeting up with you in a few days as a red tabby cat. Look for me. I'll see you soon." Minerva whispered gently to him, leaning down and placing a delicate motherly feeling kind of kiss on the brow of the 5-year-old child. Harry smiled up at her, his eyes shining brightly for the first time since that chilly night on Hallows Eve.
With one long last look, Minerva swept from the rooms. Harry could hear her footsteps fading and when he could no longer hear her, he turned to Albus' portrait.
"Thank you Albus. Please tell that to Minerva for me." Harry said. His smile was bright, eyes glittering, and Albus the painting also found himself giving a magically painted smile on his face. Harry took a look over the room before he closed his eyes and summoned his bag to him which held the items he had with him while on the run. Harry smiled as he caught it, thanking his wandless abilities, and he sat down on the floor. He sorted through it all, organizing the bag. Once he finished that, he used his wandless magic to shrink it and pocket it. Harry took a deep breath. This was it...
With shaking hands, Harry held out his hand and began turning it. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... His hands carefully turned as he counted, not wanting to mess up... 20... 21... 22... 23... 24... 25... With a deep breath again, Harry let it go. Instantly, he felt a pull at his naval, even stronger than a portkey. He felt the sensation of being squeezed through a tube, and with a final thought, Harry blacked out, never to see his old world ever again. Because really, time travel and changing the future, always leads to an alternate universe. Harry already knew that, and it was with that thought, that he welcomed unconsciousness...