Disclaimer: No. Not Rowlings. Nothing belongs to me. Just playing in her universe

A/N: Hi. This is my first attempt at publishing, although I've got about 8 stories in progress. As you start reading this story, there are some very strong similarities to S'Tarkans story Nightmares of Futures Past. It's an absolutely BRILLIANT story, and if you haven't read it, I highly recommend it.

As far as the similarities go, they're mostly in the beginning. This story goes in a very different direction, and, I believe, takes on a life of its own, but I'll let you be the judge. Thanks for reading, and I hope you like it.

Midnight Star 25


Prologue/The Curse

A cold wind blew across the desolated land. A 30-year-old Harry Potter stood in the Headmasters office of what was left of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The castle had been the target of many attacks. The war had raged on for over 10 years after Harry had graduated. He had finally brought they war to an end just 4 months ago. He had defeated Voldemort nearly a year ago, but it took the next 8 months to finish rounding up the last of the Death Eaters.

Now the Wizarding World was on the path to recovery. Harry just wondered if there was anything worth saving. The Wizarding and Muggle populations of Great Britain were severely depleted. The Ministry and Muggle governments were just barely hanging on. Thousands of children were left as orphans, hundreds of families were completely eradicated, and even more people were severely injured, and their lives would never be the same.

Harry's life would never be the same. Everyone he had ever cared about was now dead. They had ALL died for HIM! HE was supposed to be the only casualty. NOT his friends and family. That was why he now found himself in this office arguing with a portrait.

"I HAVE to try this Albus!"

"This is very Dark Magik, Harry. The repercussions could be…severe."

"No kidding, Albus!" came the sarcastic reply "I kinda figured that out when I inherited over 60 years of Dark Arts knowledge!"

It was true. Something strange had happened in the Final Battle. As Harry had cast the fatal curse, destroying the final part of Voldemort's soul, a bright light arose from his ashes, and struck Harry right on the forehead. It seemed to absorb right into his scar, before rendering him unconscious. He woke up two days later back in 'Order' Headquarters. When he awoke, he felt…different. He had memories that weren't his, powers he didn't recognize, and knew spells he had never heard of. Somehow, all of Voldemort's powers, memories, and skills had transferred to him.

"I just don't think you know exactly what you're getting yourself into."

"I'm getting a second chance, Albus. If this works, I can drastically change the last 20 years, and DON'T give me

that song and dance about messing with the timeline. Frankly, it needs to be meddled with." Harry was angry.

"But for Voldemort to be alive again…"

Harry rubbed his eyes. "Albus, please. We've been over this for the last 3 months. I'm dong this. I WON'T be stopped now!"

With that, he stepped into a pre drawn Pentagram, surrounded by a series of intricate ancient runes.

"Goodbye, Albus. Hopefully the next time I see you, it will be under better circumstances."

He started chanting, and within minutes, he was surrounded by a swirl of magical energy. With one final gesture, he pointed his wand at himself, and uttered the fatal curse.