The Bunny's Name: Tim E. Turner – skips backwards, hops sideways, and rolls forwards in a zigzagging pattern with no discernible path. He is a touch absentminded and completely unorganized, but he is eager to please.
Disclaimer: All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites.
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, character death, character bashing, sensitive topics/themes, language, alternate universe, angst, drama, and explosive removal of anything resembling HP Canon.
AN1: I would like to take this time to warn you that this will not be a warm and fuzzy kind of story. It starts out somewhat darkish before it lightens up towards the end. There will be mentions, especially in the early chapters, of child cruelty that borders on abuse, outright abuse, corporeal punishment, and scenes with mild to moderate mental and emotional abuse. If that bothers you, don't read this story. You have been warned. I will say that there will not be any very graphic or detailed descriptions of said abuse, but it is glaringly obvious when it occurs. There will also be, at one point, a fairly detailed list of injuries that are a direct result of said abuse.
Finally, I would like to give credit for the birth of the plot bunny of this story to Radaslab (30 minutes I & II and the Harem War), bellerophon30 (Harry Potter and the Final Straw), robst (Knowledge is Power, Can't Have it Both Ways, and In This World and the Next), and the authors of many other similar FanFictions I have read here and on other sites. Thank you all for inspiring me after a long dry spell of writer's block. And while they inspired me I did my best not to copy their ideas but with the huge number of time travel stories out there it is inevitable that some of what you will read will be familiar - it was in no way intentional but I've read thousands of FanFictions and thousands of books published by hundreds of authors; keeping all of them straight in my head and separate from my original ideas is near impossible.
AN2: Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit.
Chaos by Request
Chapter 1: Prologue – Dropping the Proverbial Pebble
February 26, 2020 11:45 PM
Thirty-nine year old Harry Potter climbed to his feet with a groan before stretching out his cramped muscles. He'd just spent the last twenty-four hours straight on his knees on the hard stone floor of the basement under his house, carving an intricate circle of runes into stones. Shaking the life back into his tortured limbs, he studied the rune arrays to insure he had not made any mistakes in their order or alignments. Satisfied that he'd done his job correctly, he used his wand to gently blow the stone dust and chips scattered around his circle into the nearest corner before vanishing the waste. Next he filled a nearby bucket with warm water from his wand and proceeded to wash the floor in Muggle fashion, paying close attention to the ritual circle he had carved into the floor. When he finished, he rinsed it off with a near boiling stream of water from his wand and spelled the entire floor dry.
The rune carvings stood out palely in contrast to the dark, well worn, and stained stone blocks that made up the floor of the basement. After a quick glance at his watch to check the time, he knelt back down beside the circle and began deepening the carvings and smoothing out any rough edges using a charmed chisel designed to slice through stone as easily as a knife cut through butter. Methodically, he worked his way around the circle, taking care to not skip over any of the runes, slowly working on turning each etched rune into a one inch wide and three inch deep trough would hold liquids or fine powders in a specific shape. After he'd done the first two, he glanced at the remaining runes in the overly large and intricate circle and bit back a groan before shaking out his sore hands and getting back to work.
February 27, 2020 11:45 PM
Harry had just finished his second twenty-four hours straight of carving. He'd completed four more turns around the circle, making certain that each and every rune had a depth of exactly three inches and smoothing the sides so that each rune would roughly hold the same amount of liquid. After each trip around the circle, Harry would get up and stretch before cleaning the stone shards from the floor and washing out the runes by hand. It had been a tedious task to say the least, but it was a task that Harry willingly undertook after spending well over fifteen years researching this particular ritual.
Without stopping to rest for once, he cleaned the rune circle one last time taking special care that no dust, water, or stone chip remained inside the carvings. He then got back down on his knees and pulled out a large bottle of neutralizing gel and a half inch paint brush made from the tails hairs of a newborn unicorn (freely given) out of the left side pocket of his robes. Gently, he opened the bottle and dipped the tip of the brush inside, coating it evenly with the thick, clear substance.
Dropping down onto his belly, he carefully began coating the inner walls of the runes with the solution. It took him seven hours and seven bottles of solution to coat each of the eighteen hundred and eighty-one runes that made up the circle. The next step repeated the entire process, this time with a solution made from a mixture of pure silver, ground moonseeds, powdered unicorn horn, holy water, and virgin olive oil. An additional seven hours later, he trudged upstairs into the small kitchen and announced that the circle had finally been finished to the two individuals brewing at the table.
He then dropped down into the nearest chair and spent a couple hours dozing lightly while the wrinkled old house elf and elderly gentleman worked on finishing the highly complicated brewing of the ritualistic potion that would be poured into the rune carvings of the circle once it was finished and the silver based coating on the runes had dried completely.
February 28, 2020 5:45 PM
Harry woke up reluctantly as his long time house elf, Kreacher, shook his leg to get his attention. He thanked the elf kindly and headed upstairs to his bedroom to shower and put on a clean set of silver and white robes. He returned to the kitchen twenty-five minutes later, carrying two sterilized vials and a silver ceremonial dagger etched down the blade with purity runes. Setting both vials carefully down on the table, Harry turned to face Kreacher as the elf watched him intently.
"Are you sure you wish to do this, Kreacher?"
"Kreacher be certain."
Harry nodded and gently took the elf's right hand in his and used the knife to slice the elf's palm open just enough to allow the elf's blood to flow freely. Quickly, Harry set aside the knife and picked up one of the vials to collect the blood before more than a drop could splash down onto the floor. Once the vial was full, he capped it with a silver tipped cork and helped heal Kreacher's small, gnarled hand. After he was sure the cut would not be ripped back open during the ceremony later that night, he spent a moment cleaning the elf's blood from the knife before slicing open his own palm and filling the second vial with his own blood. Kreacher than healed his wounded hand for him in turn before handing him a bottle of pepper-up potion to help him stay awake for the ceremony that would take place later that evening.
The rest of the night Harry spent packing everything Kreacher would need to take with him when he was sent on his journey. Each item was securely wrapped in its own packaging and placed into a special overnight bag with strategically placed sticking charms that would insure they weren't lost or banged around too much while Kreacher was en route to his destination.
At seven-thirty, Harry collected the still warm caldron of finished potion, and carried it downstairs where he first checked to see if the silver lining of the runes had dried, before immediately ladling the watery concoction carefully into each of runes until there was exactly one inch of free space left inside them. The potion swirled gently as it settled down into the bottom of the runes, an iridescent sheen ominously snaking across its surface continuously in the dull light of the oil lamps that lit the basement.
Any extra potion remaining inside the cauldron was quickly vanished when the last rune had been filled. Harry then returned to the kitchen and double checked the bag of items he'd packed. Hoping he'd remembered to pack everything they'd agreed would be needed, he sealed the bag and sat down to write out two separate letters; one that would be delivered by the traveling elf shortly after arriving at his destination and the other to be given to the recipient on a specific date and time. He was joined at the table by the elderly gentleman who'd helped brew the potion for the ritual.
"Anything I can help you with, son?"
Trevor Matheson had quickly become Harry's closest friend and mentor during the previous fifteen years. Harry had come to think of Trevor as a father figure or close uncle shortly after stumbling into him on a busy London street, while the older man treated Harry as practically part of his family from the first moment he'd seen him. Trevor had at one time, revealed that he was somewhat distantly related to Harry through marriage on his father's side; he'd been married to a cousin of his grandfather's back during the first rise of Voldemort.
The man freely admitted to being what was considered a high level squib, he had more magic than Argus Filch or Arabella Figg but he was completely unable to use a wand, and a lawyer who was well versed in both wizarding and muggle laws that Harry had met during the lowest time in his life. Trevor had eventually helped Harry out of his depression and the two worked extensively to get to this point in time.
"Nothing I can think of, Trev," Harry replied after a moment's pause. "It's just kind of hard to believe we've finally reached this point. After all the research…"
"I understand," Trevor murmured gently.
Harry swallowed thickly before adding tiredly, "I find it so hard to hold onto the hope that things will get better, can be made so much better then they were. So many, so very many, things have gone wrong, in my life and in others… and now here we are… standing at the edge of the abyss… and I'm so scared that what we are doing isn't the answer I've been looking for over the last two decades…"
"Get a hold of yourself, son," Trevor admonished thickly and somewhat sharply. "Don't allow your insecurities to catch hold or we'll be sunk before we can truly begin. Be strong, hold fast to your course, and pray for mercy. But don't doubt yourself, especially after we're nearly ready to begin."
"Thanks, Trev," Harry rejoined sincerely, with a soft smile ghosting across his features. "I really needed to hear that. I know in my heart I am not afraid; whatever the outcome will be. I guess I'm just feeling the strain of being awake for over seventy-two hours straight, since my catnap earlier can't really be considered sleep."
Trevor smiled in his direction and the two men allowed the silence to surround them once more as they settled back to await the arrival of the witching hour.
February 28, 2020 11:45 PM
The alarm on Harry's watch beeped loudly; he silently turned it off and slowly rose to his feet before gathering up the packed bag of supplies from the table. He then approached Kreacher and reluctantly handed the magically enhanced overnight bag to the elderly house elf. He helped the elf secure the strap of the bag over his chest and shoulder, before giving said shoulder an affectionate squeeze with his hand.
"I've packed the food items you prepared yesterday, all of the evidence of the crimes against me that we were able to gather, several artifacts, documents, and photos to help prove that you are who you say you are and that you speak the truth, as well as half of the former Black fortune that Trevor had converted into Muggle currency, I made sure to pull the ones from years dated later than the year of my birth so there shouldn't be any trouble with them, so that you will be able to provide for yourself and your charge. That will negate the need for you to venture out into the magical world with your charge before he's ready. There is also a small box containing shrunken books that will be useful to you and the boy as well as three packages of healing potions and a box of warm muggle clothes," Harry informed the elf, who simply nodded in return. "Here is the letter for your charge, to be given to him on his eleventh birthday, and one for our friend as soon as you've made first contact with the boy."
Kreacher solemnly accepted the two envelopes with another nod and tucked them into his faded bath towel uniform. "Kreacher promises to see they are delivered. Kreacher will not fail, Master Harry."
"I know you won't, Kreacher," Harry agreed as he squatted down to look the diminutive elf in the eye. "You've served me well, these many years, and I will never forget you. Nor will I ever forget the sacrifice you are taking by going in my place tonight."
Kreacher made a soft keening sound as he lunged forward and hugged Harry tightly around the neck. Harry gently returned the hug and the two sat there for several long minutes just taking comfort in the contact, both knowing this would be the last time saw each other; regardless of whether they were successful or not tonight. Reluctantly they pulled apart a few minutes later, both struggling to control their emotions now that the moment had arrived for their plans to be carried out.
Trevor coughed discretely to get their attention before announcing; "It's time to begin."
Harry and Kreacher simply nodded in response as they followed the older man out of the kitchen and down into the basement where the huge circle made up of potion filled runes had been painstakingly carved into the stone floor. Kreacher gathered a few of his most prized possessions and tucked them into various pockets in the uniform he wore before entering the circle and taking a seat in the exact center of the diagram.
"Kreacher is ready, Master Harry," Kreacher wheezed.
Harry nodded an acknowledgement as he began to run his wand over each rune to charge it with his magic. The moment the fully charged rune began to glow he would place exactly seven drops of his blood, from the vial he filled earlier, into the rune before moving on to the next one in the series. When he completed the full circle, the room began to glow with an eerie red light.
"Kreacher the House Elf, you have been charged with a task of greatest importance and even greater risk," Trevor intoned ceremoniously as he traded places with Harry at the starting rune, a bag of finely ground quartz crystals cradled in one hand. "Do you accept this task of your own free will?"
"Kreacher accepts, Master Lawyer Matheson," Kreacher replied calmly.
Trevor nodded and began sprinkling the powdered crystal over top of the blood and magic charged runes as he chanted repeatedly in Latin. When he reached the end of the circle, he tucked away the bag of quartz and pulled out the small vial containing Kreacher's blood that Harry had collected.
"Who here charges Kreacher the House Elf with this task of greatest importance and even greater risk?"
"I, Harry James Potter, Head of the Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter and Black, do so charge Kreacher the House Elf."
"Then take this blood, freely given by Kreacher the House Elf, and add it to the runes so that he may be bound to his task as charged," Trevor ordered as he passed the vial to Harry.
Harry accepted the blood and proceeded to charge the runes a second time, this time sealing each one with three drops of the elf's blood from the vial as Trevor once more chanted in Latin. The runes lit up with a sickly, pale green light when he reached his starting point and poured the very last drop of blood into place.
"Who will witness this pact that charges Kreacher the Elf with his task?" Harry demanded as he faced the inner circle where Kreacher sat still as a statue, his small body frozen in place by the magic of the ritual.
"I, Trevor Lynn Wenlock Matheson, stand as witness to this binding," Trevor answered as he began to dust the runes a second time with the quartz while Harry chanted in Latin this time.
The room pulsed with magic with each step Trevor took around the circle, each rune flaring a vivid blue before fading back to the pale green as the quartz powder was placed over it. As he reached the final rune, he slit the palm of both hands with the same knife Harry had used to draw his and Kreacher's blood, and placed his now bloody hands directly on top of the first and last rune in the sequence – sealing the circle closed with his blood and the limited magic that flowed through him.
The rune circle flashed bright blue, a loud thunder clap rang through the room, and Kreacher's body vanished in a cloud of thick smoke. As the smoke cleared the light of the runes slowly faded out of existence and both Harry and Trevor sank to the ground exhausted, panting heavily in an effort to catch their breath.
"Merlin willing, Kreacher will end up where and when he needs to be," Harry gasped roughly as he rolled over onto his back and closed his eyes.
Memories that he'd kept bottled up inside him for the past twenty-two years broke loose inside of him as he allowed himself to truly feel hope that things would finally be put right. Before he could become too caught up in the past he hoped to change, Harry was startled out of his thoughts as Trevor began to scream in pain. Jerking his eyes open, he turned his gaze towards the man who had stood by him through the last fifteen years and gasped in shock at what he saw.
Trevor was thrashing where he had fallen, his body being shredded alive by a backlash of the magic that had powered the runic ritual. Harry crawled forward with his wand held ready and a healing spell on the tip of his tongue, intent on helping his friend, when he felt his own body being attacked by the violent magic. All too soon his voice rose out sharply as his own body was caught up in unbearable pain while his screams joined those of Trevor's.
His last thought, before his soul was obliterated completely, was that they had miscalculated. His only comfort was the knowledge that their failure was also tearing the fabric of reality apart and destroying the entire known universe with them. The knowledge that he was getting his revenge against those who had betrayed him was almost as satisfying as successfully going back in time and changing his past for the better.
AN: And so it begins... I don't think anyone else has ever sent Kreacher back in time before though I know someone has sent Dobby back (I found that story after I'd written half of this one). I will say that I am confident that this won't be like most other time-travel stories since I tried to avoid most of the 'Harry or Hermione or whoever jumped back suddenly knows everything and the world is going to be just fine because they are going to kick butt and take names' cliches that are out there. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, next chapter will be up tomorrow, and the day after that I'll be posting on Wizard's World again. ~ Jenn