Title: My Name is Cameron Sage
Summary: Things are going poorly for the side of the light, and in a last-ditch effort to fulfill his destiny, Harry goes back in time to try again.
Warnings: SS/HP slash, mentions of past unpleasantness (rape, torture, child abuse)
Disclaimer: I'm making zero dollars off this story.
Author's note: Diverges from canon sometime during the battle at Hogwarts.
Chapter 1 – Going Back
He did his best to block out Shacklebolt's shout, but it wasn't easy. If he would just leave Harry alone for five blessed minutes, he could get on with his plan.
Sometimes—not often, mind you, but sometimes—it paid to be the Boy Who Lived. All he'd had to do was whinge about missing Sirius and say he wanted to visit the Veil Room to 'say a proper goodbye'. A plaintive plea for a moment's privacy, and he was able to duck into the Time Room and snag the Time-Turner he was currently fiddling with.
There weren't many left after the fiasco in fifth year, but he'd got the biggest one he saw. The one Hermione'd used before—or it's twin brother, anyway—had been there, but he remembered that it only went back an hour for every turn. He was going to need a year at least. Hopefully more.
He slipped the chain around his neck and rummaged through the shrunken items in his pockets one last time to make sure he really had everything he needed.
Trunk packed with several changes of clothes. If he went back any significant amount of time he was definitely going shopping for something that fit, but he'd need some things for until then.
Moneybag. It contained every last galleon from the Potter and Black vaults, so it was a good thing it was much bigger inside than out. Otherwise he'd be driving a money dump truck around. And, as he didn't exactly have the strength of a mountain troll, the built-in featherweight charm didn't hurt.
And that was it, really. He'd considered bringing lots of other things, but he didn't know what time he'd end up in exactly and he didn't want to be caught with anything too incriminating. If all went well, no one would ever know he was from the future, or that he was really Harry Potter.
And it better work. It just had to work. The battle at Hogwarts had been over six months ago and they weren't making any progress. The Great Grey Bastard had hidden Nagini away and no one knew where she was. And after Harry had died and come back to life and everything! Word had it that now that old Snakeface knew all his other Horcruxes were destroyed, he was planning a few new ones. If he started making more, they'd never win.
Besides, there had just been too many losses. Remus, Tonks, Luna, Hermione, Fred, Mr. Weasley, McGonagall, Hagrid, Flitwick, and even Snape had all died. Maybe if he went back far enough he could save Dumbledore, too. Maybe even Sirius.
"I said dinner's ready. Harry!"
Shacklebolt was going to bust a lung if he kept yelling like that. At least he wasn't coming upstairs yet.
Harry put his shrunken trunk and moneybag back in his pocket, checked to make sure his wand was still in its holster, and slipped his invisibility cloak on. He was assuming the Time-Turner would drop him in the same place he left from, and he couldn't be sure that 12 Grimmauld Place would be secure in the new time.
He tip-toed down the stairs, slipped through the front door, and walked a couple of bocks toward Diagon Alley.
Pressing close to the building, he took out the Time-Turner. It was shaped like an hourglass, about six inches tall, and had a rod through the middle that it spun around.
Great, now he was getting nervous. He would just have to spin it has hard as he could to make sure he got back far enough. Somehow, he didn't think he'd get a second try at this. He also knew that no matter how he spun it, it could only take him backward. There would be no coming back to this time except day by day like everyone else.
All right, deep breath. He reminded himself that he was a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake, and gave the hourglass a forceful spin.
After a dizzying whirlwind that seemed to go on for years, the world settled back down. It was a good thing he was leaning against the building, or he probably would have fallen over. The footpath was just as empty as it had been when he left, but it definitely wasn't winter anymore. At least it was daytime.
He took off the cloak and shoved it in his pocket. He didn't know what year it was yet, but he hoped the minor changes in his appearance would keep people from recognizing him. He'd taken a potion to speed hair growth, so his unruly mop was tumbling past his shoulders. Just the day before, he'd been to St. Mungo's and had his eyes permanently fixed so he could dump the distinctive glasses. And, of course, there was the scar.
Or lack of it. Once he'd died and gotten rid of the creepy baby Horcrux thing at King's Cross, it had disappeared. That, more than anything, gave him hope that his new identity would be believed.
He started off for Diagon Alley. It was about time he figured out when he was. He could tell from the cars driving by that he must have traveled at least a few years. He was beginning to wish he knew more about muggle automobiles so he could be more specific when he spotted a newspaper machine on the corner. He didn't have any muggle money to buy one, but he'd probably be able to see the date through the plastic.
Oh. Oh, goodness.
Well. At least he didn't have to worry about not having gone back far enough anymore. What with it being 1977 and all.
He flopped down on his bed at the Leaky Cauldron and basked in the fact that he'd made it through his first week.
So far, everyone had bought his new identity without question. Even Ollivander! He'd always thought the old man had a sixth sense about who people were and what kind of wand they had, but when he'd gone in to get a new one and explained that his name was Cameron Sage and his stupid cousin had broken his wand, Ollivander just nodded and started summoning boxes.
At first, he was worried about the holly and phoenix feather wand. If he bought it now, it wouldn't be there when eleven-year-old Harry needed it. But it turned out not to be a problem, because Ollivander seemed pretty confident about the twelve-inch ash wand with a phoenix feather core. It made sense, he supposed. He'd done quite a bit of changing in the last seven years.
Once he had his new wand, he'd considered destroying the old one. It wouldn't do for anyone to discover he had Harry's Potter's wand, now would it? But, in the end, he decided to just shrink it to the size of a match and Spellotape it to the inside of his moneybag.
The Ministry had believed him, too. Once he'd got his wand and spent a few fruitful if frustrating hours at Madam Malkin's (the woman was a bloody menace with that tape measure), he'd presented himself at the Department of Magical Education to take his NEWTs. He figured it was good to establish who he was and get some credentials, since he was most likely going to be living with this identity for the rest of his life.
Frankly, he was amazed they'd bought his story. Not that he was complaining, of course. He was now officially Cameron Sage, who'd been raised by muggle relatives after his parents died and tutored by an old wizard who lived in his neighborhood. No, he didn't have any identification and no, he couldn't give them his relatives' address because they didn't approve of his living in the wizarding world and he'd run away. Since he was comfortably over the age of majority, they didn't question him any further.
He'd spent Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday taking NEWTs with three other home-tutored kids—two witches and a wizard. He'd done what he considered the bare minimum in subjects: Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Supposedly he'd get the results by owl either today or tomorrow.
He had a new birthday and everything. It had been December when he left, and he counted the number of days it had been since he'd turned eighteen. Then, for his new birth date, he just counted back the same number of days from when he'd arrived. He just hoped he would remember to celebrate his nineteenth birthday on the second of February next year.
A 'tap, tap, tap' drew his attention to the window. He heaved himself up off the bed to let the barn owl in and untied the scroll he assumed contained his test results.
'Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test official scores for Mr. Cameron Evan Sage are as follows:
Defense Against the Dark Arts: O
An official copy of this document has been filed in the Department of Records. Congratulations from the Department of Magical Education for the successful completion of your education.'
Well, that was a relief. He'd been pretty worried about Potions and Herbology, but it was over now and everything turned out fine.
He felt a little silly for using Evan as his middle name, but he had to have one and it felt good to keep just a little something from his past. It was a risk, but he could have chosen plenty of names that would have been much more conspicuous, so he wasn't going to worry about it.
Besides, now that he had finished with the exams he had plenty of other things to worry about. Like what exactly he was going to do now.
His first thought when he'd seen the date was that he could save his parents, but he'd quickly discounted that idea. There was no way he'd be able to find and destroy all the Horcruxes in time and if he interfered, The Menace's body might not be destroyed. It wasn't worth it to risk the years of relative peace that had followed his parents' deaths. Sacrificing them felt almost like he was murdering them himself, but he didn't really have any other choice.
Then he thought that maybe he could just get to know them a little. But that had its own set of problems. It would be way too easy to mess things up with the Fidelius Charm or the Secret Keeper (bloody traitorous rat) or any number of things. Plus, it would only make it that much harder when they died if he made friends. And wouldn't it be weird to be friends with his own parents? Besides, that was not what he'd gone back in time to do.
He figured the first Horcrux he should go after was the locket. He could let Regulus and Kreacher do the hard part and get it out of the cave, then he could take it and destroy it. Only, if he was doing his math right, Regulus was only fifteen or sixteen right now and wouldn't be stealing any soul fragments from any dark lords any time soon. He'd have to wait a couple of years.
In the meantime, he planned to learn. He'd find a house somewhere where he could have some privacy and he'd learn. He'd read any pertinent books he could get his hands on and look up as many words as he needed to to really understand them. He'd travel anywhere he needed to and find experts in dueling and defense and dark artifacts and whatever else to teach him what he needed to know. He'd maybe make contacts with some choice individuals to keep track of what was going on with The Great Git and his merry band of Death Eaters.
Right. So what he needed now was a realtor.