Hello, boys 'n' girls. I know most you are probably gonna think I'm nuts for doing a Harry Potter fic, but I couldn't resist.

Note: This is gonna be somewhat of a Harry/Harem with a fair bif of bashing and a 'don't eff with me' harry. Cliche' I know, but just work with me. My muse is going nuts.



Neville Longbottom sighed as he thumbed through an old tome of spells, mumbling to himself at each page. He would have ran a hand through his hair in exasperation at that moment...That is..if he still had hair.

Close to fifty years had passed since he graduated from Hogwarts and the now seventy year old ex-Gryffindor was feeling his age. Even though he had gotten a bit taller, he still retained his somewhat pudgy appearance to go with the wrinkles he had acquired over time, but now he carried the air of a confident wizard. However, all that was a moot point as he turned to face another man joining him in the main hall of Longbottom Manor.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this? One miscalculation and you'll go up like a party popper." He said, taking the pouch he was handed. While Neville was more than able to hold his own in a fight; his guest was just plain intimidating even to him. At 6'7" he easily stood over the aging wizard. Once black hair was now a mix of grey and white as well as the long goatee he sported. His emotionless face was betrayed by the hints of lingering rage and sorrow that still clung to his piercing green eyes.

His name: Harry James Potter; former hogwarts golden boy of Gryffindor, 'boy-who-lived' and chosen one. Although if anyone asked, he'd state that he hated the nicknames with a passion. Once a boy who thought the people around him were actually his friends and cared about him

Of course, all that was gone now. Replaced by a man who learned too late that he had been played like a harp for nearly half his life.

"It's my only choice, Nev.." Harry responded, "Those bastards meddled with my life as if it was their god-given right."

Neville sighed again. In all honesty, he couldn't blame the man. It wasn't until after Voldermort's final defeat, but it was still unforgivable in his eyes.

Ginny Weasly, a girl he thought he was love with..until Luna Lovegood caught her pouring a love potion into his drink. After a few well-placed threats and hexes, the redhead admitted she had begun using it during his sixth year...he was her reward for the family taking him in. He learned the hard way she was only interested in 'The Boy Who Lived', not Harry.

Ron Weasly: a guy he considered a brother...paid to be his friend. It would've been one thing if it was just money, but he, like Ginny, had been using a love potion...on Hermione Granger. However, by the time he had found out, the stupid sod had started mixing it with a loyalty potion. The combination stripped her of her free will, in effect turning the poor girl into little more than a toy for his amusement.

And the rest of the clan (with the twins being the only exception), paid as well with cash from his own vault..paid by the one person he trusted above all else...

Albus Dumbledore..the mere mention of the man's name sent his blood to boiling, the bastard had planned out the whole thing: leaving him with the Dursleys to 'resue' him from them every year to keep his trust, using each year..the Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, Even the Tri-Wizard Tournament the 'train' him as a weapon for the 'light'. It took all Harry had to keep his anger to just swearing after he learned the old man was using HIS family vault to fund the Order and to pay for the potions Ron and Ginny had used as well as bribing the Dursleys to be extra sour towards him so he'd be grateful to the man every time he left Privet Drive for Hogwarts.

"It's taken me nearly all my life to research and prepare this spell, Nev, But now, it's finally ready." Harry breathed a sigh of relief as Neville took some candles out of the bag along with a few bottles full of a thick indigo liquid, "The old goat probably didn't expect me to ever find out about the Temporal Gate. I plan to make sure Dumbledore never gets his chance to start screwing around with me."

"I just hope you did it right, mate. This spell takes EXACT preperation to work. The runes have to be written in the exact order and proper ink, the candles have to be the correct dimensions and the proper wax..." Neville began to fret. Over the years, Harry had become more or less like a sibling to him. He started to go on again until Harry stopped him.

"Neville, calm down. Half a century studying one spell is more than enough time" The bald wizard watched as Harry used his wand like a paintbrush and spent several hours drawing a circle on the floor with the liquid, filling it with complex runes and symbols. Meanwhile Neville set up a dozen orange and yellow candles around the circle. As soon as everything was ready, Harry looked at his handiwork, "Well...I guess it's now or never."

"Harry..? Good luck, mate." Neville said, hugging the man he called his brother.

"Thanks, Neville." Harry took a deep breath before standing in the middle of the circle while Neville lit the candles.

The aging wizard let his body relax and started the incantation:

'Lords of time, open your gate,

hear my cry, let me undo my fate!'

The candlelight grew brighter; he repeated it again in Latin.

The runes began to glow.

He repeated it again and again, in Greek, Celtic, Russian and Japanese. Each time the lights and runes grew brighter and brighter until he was encased in a column of bright blue light.

"TEMPORA EX CHRONOS!" With those words the light exploded in a blinding flash, forcing Neville to shield his eyes until it dissapated.

When it did, Neville fought back a tear as he saw that the only thing remaining in the circle was a pile of clothes, "Bye, Harry..."


Number 4 Privit Drive, 70 years earlier:

Dumbledore grinned smugly to himself as he set the bundle on the Dursly's doorstep, this was the perfect environment to ensure his weapon grew the proper way, "Can't have you become unmoldable now, can we?" However had he bothered to pay attention he would have noticed the baby of James and Lily potter glaring daggers at him from inside the blankets.

"I won't be TOO confident if I were you, you senile old coot."The waif thought to himself before stealing glance at McGonagall and the still sobbing Hagrid, "You guys better hold onto your hats, 'cause Harry Potter is baaaaackkk!"


I know this story isn't exactly the most original, but it should provide a good read.

In this story, Harry's gonna be the kinda kid who'll beat the hell outta you if you cross him.