I don't own anything in the books.
Hi I'm reposting this story, thanks for bearing with the long wait.
The golden G
At the household of Privet Drive number four, a teenage boy could be seen sitting on the windowsill on the second floor, feet dangling dangerously on the outside. The boy kept looking back into the room, as if something or somebody was calling for his attention.
Everyone in the neighbourhood knew who he was, he was practically famous.
Everything about him was strange, he had appeared over night and nothing had been the same in the neighbourhood since.
He was the good for nothing nephew of Petunia Dursley, a very admirable woman for taking in the dark haired Potter boy. His parents had been unemployed drunks, who had died in a car crash, no doubt because of the above mentioned. According to Mrs Dursley, her innocent, young sister had fallen for the charm of a dark haired boy, a lousy criminal called Potter, and left to never be seen again. They had, had their toddler son in the car with them at the time of the crash, showing just how irresponsible they had been. The boy had luckily, or as some would whisper, unluckily for the Dursleys, survived bearing only a strange lightning bolt scar on his forehead as a reminder.
The Dursleys, who were very much respected, had taken the poor orphan boy in to their home, out of the goodness of their hearts. Many of the neighbours now pitied them, and said they were the perfect example of how bad things could happen to even the best of people.
The boy had after all turned out very badly, it was probably all in the genes. At the age of eleven, he had been sent to St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys, not a moment to soon. And every summer since he had been coming back, looking more and more like a criminal, the poor Dursleys even had to send him back, weeks before the school started sometimes. The boy was pale and would often be seen walking around outside, on odd hours of the days. No doubt causing trouble and vandalising the streets.
The Dursleys own son, Dudley, now that was a fine boy. He was not what you would call handsome in anyway, a few pounds to much here and there. But that was easily over looked, he was after all a student at Smelting, a local school with good discipline, many of the fathers living in the area had been students there. And the boy was also a good boxer, and everyone knew that athletes were good role models for the younger children.
The just mentioned, younger children, had an entirely other opinion though. It was well known among them, that the strange Potter kid had done nothing bad to a single child in the neighbourhood. (They had asked around to make sure.) Dudley however, was notoriously known to bully the smaller children in the near by area, with his gang of friends.
But however much the children tried to point this out to their parents, they were ignored. The parents would continue to warn their small, to stay away from that terrible Potter boy.
Harry Potter however, couldn't care less about the fuss that was made about him. He didn't really attend St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys, his parents hadn't been unemployed drunks or died in a car crash. His aunt and uncle had made that up in fear of the neighbours finding out their terrible truth.
Harry really attended, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And as far as Harry knew his parents had been well respected and liked by many. They had died, protecting him against the dark Lord Voldemort, or as people called him, You-Know-Who. Voldemort was so feared by the wizard population that they refused to say or write his name.
Harry's feet dangled freely outside the window, as he stared up onto the darkening blue sky. It had been one of those lovely days that would be remembered when the cold and rainy days returned, not that Harry had noticed. He cast a glance into the untidy room he had his back against. He had not cared to unpack his things properly, but had instead settled for throwing it all out on the floor. Piles of hand me down clothes laid mixed with schoolbooks and owl treats. The owl in question sat perched in her cage, resting her head under her wing, occasionally hooting softly in her sleep. Harry was however not looking at any of these things, but at an object lying innocently on his unmade bed.
A thin golden chain with a beautiful hourglass shaped diamond was sparkling on top of the crumpled covers. If any of the neighbours had caught sight of it, they would have called the police at once, accusing him of theft. It looked ridiculously expensive. But the muggles, that's what the wizards called the non-magic folks, didn't know what it really was. It was an object well known and highly illegal to use in the wizardry world, unless given permission by the Ministry of Magic. The small hourglass contained highly magical sand grains, and was known as a time-turner.
Time-turners were illegal due to the fact that your past self could kill the future you, since you didn't know before hand that you would be travelling back in time. It was very complicated business and therefore handled deep in the Departments of Mysteries, situated in the Ministry of Magic. To use one, you would be put to many tiresome interviews and you could still be turned down. (Only a handful of people were allowed to use it every year, under strict regulations.) A well educated wizard would spot a difference on the time-turner lying so carelessly on Harry Potters bed, in the muggle household he was living in.
It had a golden letter G, engraved on the diamond surface. Someone familiar to Harry's past, (Almost every wizard in the world, as he had killed, You-Know-Who as a baby) would be able to make at least a guess as to what meaning it had. As a second year student at Hogwarts, he had pulled the sword of Gryffindor, one of the schools founders, out of the sorting hat. (It placed the students in the four houses the school had, and was very cleaver indeed.)
The chain and its magical hanging had been sent to him anonymously, although Harry had a very strong suspicion as to whom it could be sent from.
However, as the suspected man was dead, Harry was forced to speculate. Harry had yet to decide, what to do with it, knowing the retributions of meddling with time.
A small note attached in the parcel it had been delivered in, stated that he was allowed to travel back in time, as far as he was of an age to attend Hogwarts. At first he had planned on travelling back a year. That way he would be able to save the life of the Headmaster, the person, Harry suspected to have sent the chain. One of the teachers in the school, who had been posing as a spy for the light, had betrayed the Headmaster and killed him.
However, after some thought Harry had realised that he had the power to save not only the Headmaster, whom he regarded as a grandfather, but also his godfather and a former student who both had been killed by Deatheaters, followers of You-Know-Who.
Harry had just about decided to travel back to his fourth year, where Cedric Diggory, a fifth year Hufflepuff had been murdered, when he had realised that the note could be interpreted in a different way.
It had said, that he could travel back as far as he was of an age to attend Hogwarts, which he was, having just ended his sixth year and there being seven years of studying. Did that mean that he could travel back to his first year and pose as an exchange student, after explaining the situation to the Headmaster? Or could he even be so bold as to assume, that the chain held far more power. Could it in fact transport him to his parents' school years, where not even the Headmaster would know of him?
How long he had been sitting there in the window he didn't know, but when his uncle's car drove up on the drive way, he quickly climbed inside the room. It wasn't worth the agonising hours or even days, of being yelled at, if his uncle caught sight of him sitting in the window, It was after all not normal behaviour.
He walked over to his big trunk, where all his now scattered things had been removed out of, and lifted the trunks heavy lid. Inside it, he had kept his most prised items.
The Dursleys, who didn't know that the Headmaster of Harry's school had died, would usually have tried to take possession and lock the trunk up, had it not been for a visit made by said Headmaster just a year ago. They had been properly scolded for not letting Harry have what belonged to him, and had therefore not even tried to take it this year.
Harry held no doubt, as to if to whether or not they would claim it, had they known of the elderly wizards death just weeks away. In the trunk his invisibility cloak, a magical map of Hogwarts and his photo album shared space. His Wand was stuck in a back pocket, although he had been warned that in doing so he risked getting his buttocks blown of.
He gently lifted the photo album up. He had a very difficult decision to make, and he hoped that the pictures inside would help him decide.
The first picture was of himself as a small child. He was being held by his smiling mother and standing behind her was his father, whom Harry often heard he looked like. Harry felt a twinge of longing in his heart, as he always did looking at his dead parents. The next picture was of his parents wedding day, which looked to have been a very happy occasion, by the looks of it. In the picture his parents were joined by their friends, among whom Harrys godfather Sirius, could be seen smiling cheekily at the camera.
Harry quickly turned the pages until he came to his friends from school. A tall, lanky red head could be seen standing next to a smiling Harry. Behind them, a bushy haired girl sat reading the thickest book imagined, casting unimpressed looks at the boys and rolling her eyes from now and then at their attempt to pull her over to pose with them. The next picture was from a Christmas holiday, celebrated at his Godfathers house. It showed Harry and his godfather smiling at each other and exchanging presents. Harry felt a tear trickle down his cheeks at the picture.
He had finally decided what to do.
If he travelled back to his parents' time, it would give him years to prepare for the killing of You-Know-Who. Harry had been told by the Headmaster that he was prophesised to vanquish the evil wizard, who'd reappeared in Harrys fourth year. If he were to go back to their first year, he would have as much time as possible with them. He understood that his parents' were as dead as they always had been, but he could get to know them as younger students. He would of course be a seventh year student, and that would give him the opportunity to save their lives.
After closing the album, he started collecting his clothes and the school books from around the room. He sighed, wishing he could have had the chance to say goodbye to his friends. It did feel a little better knowing that he could have them grow up in a better world than the one they were living in today. Putting the last books down in the now filled trunk, he took a look around the small bedroom that was his, to make sure that he hadn't forgotten anything.
He finally grabbed his owl Hedwig, still in her cage in one hand and the trunk's handle in the other and noisily made his way down stairs. His aunt turned sharply at the sight of him. Harry didn't give her or his uncle, who had made his way over, the chance to speak.
"I am leaving now! You will never see me again!" he didn't wait for their reply and opened the front door slamming it shut after walking out. Once outside he walked towards Mrs Figgs house, (A cat crazy squib, a witch or wizard with no magical powers.) where he guessed that the protection wards raised around the Dursleys house ended. He had figured that it would be best to time-travel outside, as there would be other people living in their house.
"Here goes nothing, Hedwig." He whispered quietly. He pulled out the chain hanging around his neck, from inside his jumper.
"Oh, bugger! What year did they attend Hogwarts? How do I get to mum and dad's first year? Was it 67 or 70?" Harry said aloud to Hedwig, frustrated at himself for not thinking the whole thing through. He was however pulled out of his own musings when the small hourglass started spinning on its own. Soon all Harry saw was a small glowing, golden orb between his outstretched hands. He didn't have time to panic as he was blinded by the light that had spread out from between his fingers