Disclaimer for this and all other chapters: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended.

Chapter One

"Harry, I read about the most fascinating spell today," Hermione said. The third-year witch was sitting in the common room, with a copy of "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6" on her lap. "It's a variant on the General Counter-Spell, and will stop just about any magical effect."

"Isn't the Counter-spell something we learned back in second-year?"

"Yes, but this is an advanced variant of it. I was studying ahead for some light reading."

"Light reading? Only you would read NEWT-level text books for fun, Hermione."

The bushy-haired witch huffed, although a smile was on her face. "Never mind that Harry. Help me test it out. You can cast the levitating charm on a pillow, and I will try to use the spell to cancel the effect."

Harry cast the Hover Charm, "Levioso', and the indicated pillow rose. Hermione aimed her wand, and carefully said "Finite Ultima!'. A light flashed from her wand tip, but puttered out before it reached the pillow.

"It didn't work, maybe there's a reason this is a sixth year spell," Harry said.

"Honestly Harry, you didn't expect me to get it on my first attempt did you? Let me try again." Another 'Finite Ultima', and another failure.

"Fiddlesticks," muttered Hermione.

"Did you just say fiddlesticks?" asked an amused Harry.

"Mind your cheek Harry," Hermione grinned at her friend. "Let me try once more."

"Nah let's just give up. It's not going to –"

Hermione cast another 'Finite Ultima', just as Harry stood up to grab the pillow. Her wand tip lit up, and a bright light shot from it, into Harry. With a loud scream, he grabbed his forehead, which had the scar break open and start bleeding, and collapsed to the ground.

"Harry? Oh Merlin, someone get help!" Hermione was panicking. She rushed to her fallen friend and cradled him on her lap, as an older student rushed out to get Madam Pomfrey.

Harry felt like his skull had split open, but as the pain began to ebb away he felt lighter than he had in years. He opened his eyes, and looked straight into Hermione's. "You're sooo pretty," he slurred, and fell asleep.

Hermione watched in fascination as Harry's scar closed on its own and faded almost completely away, then she saw his hair grow and lose some of its wildness, turning a dark red at the same time. Harry's body also began to change: he grew slightly, and his gaunt frame was replaced by musculature. Combined with his slurred statement, the just fourteen-year old witch felt her hormones kick in as she was cradling the boy. Finally Madam Pomfrey arrived, and Harry was taken to the Hospital Wing.

When Harry woke up he saw by the light outside that it was the next morning. Hermione was sleeping on a chair next to his bed, obviously having not left his side. On a night stand next to him were his glasses – wait a second, why could he clearly see Hermione without them now? He also felt it was easier to think. Then the memories hit him.


A twelve-year old Harry had just learned his best friend had been petrified by the Beast of Slytherin. As he sat next to her in the hospital wing, he held her cold stone-like hand in his and promised her he would find a way to get her back.

Harry returned to the Hospital wing the next day after classes, and found Ron Weasley trying to strip off Hermione's pants. Enraged, Harry hit Ron with a stunner. "Madam Pomfrey!" he yelled out, and the mediwitch rushed towards them. Just as Harry tried to explain what had happened, his Headmaster arrived.

"Harry, you should not interfere with Pureblood matters. If your friend Ronald wants to claim Ms Granger, you should let him do so, it is his right. Oh, and before I forget: Obliviate."

The scene shifted.


An eleven-year old Harry was facing down a troll alone. The troll had Hermione covered, and was preparing to kill her. "Leave her alone you brute!" he yelled, and a pulse of accidental magic left his hand and slammed into the troll's head. The beast's skull exploded, covering the entire room in blood and gore, except for Hermione and Harry, who were protected by some kind of force field.

Wheezing from the effort, Harry fell to his knees.

The professors arrived, dragging Ron Weasley with them, and found Hermione stammering that Harry had slain the troll to save her. Ron had reluctantly told Professor McGonagall that Harry had gone after Hermione, and was told to come along.

Dumbledore took out his wand, "You're talking nonsense dear girl. Your friends Harry and Ron Weasley took down the troll by a simple first-year spell, and the troll was still alive. You forgive Ron for his words, and are grateful to him. "As for young Harry here... you're most troublesome, my boy. I will bind all of ninety percent of your core this time. Oh, and Obliviate."

The spell hit the assembled professors and the three children, and Harry knew no more.

The scene shifted.


A ten-year old Harry was sitting in class doing a math test. He knew he could do the answers, but it was so difficult to keep his attention, as if his thoughts kept creeping away from him. His teacher looked on... the boy was a known troublemaker, but at least until about a year ago he had shown to have a remarkable intellect. Now, he seemed even dumber than his cousin. She sniffed with distaste, letting the child struggle with his work and focused on the few students that did still pay attention.

The scene shifted.


A nine-year old Harry Potter was in the process of being severely beaten by his uncle and cousin, when he suddenly cried out "Stop!'. A huge flash of light slammed the walrus and baby rhinoceros away from the young boy, and slammed them into the wall.

Even as Petunia Dursley was fussing over "poor Diddykins', a "crack" sounded, and a wizard present-day Harry knew was Dumbledore arrived.

"This will not do, this will not do at all. Why do you keep breaking your bindings young Harry?


And past-Harry knew no more than that he had been punished again. He felt weaker than before, and could no longer call on the power.

The scene shifted.


A seven-year old Harry was being chased by his cousin and gang, who wanted to beat him up. Wishing he was anywhere else, he suddenly disappeared in a "crack" and landed on top of the school roof.

When he had gotten down again and returned home, he was beaten for "making a fool out of Dudley', and later that night Dumbledore arrived.

" Apparition at such a young age? Looks like binding half your core was not enough... let's do seventy-five percent. Oh and Harry? Obliviate!"

The scene shifted.

A three-year old Harry was happily levitating Dudley's toys, to the amusement of both toddlers. Petunia looked on with a slight smile, she remembered this from her own youth with Lily. It was so nice to see the boys playing together.

Dumbledore arrived with a "crack" and took in the scene.

"Why did you not call me when Harry began using accidental magic Petunia? You heard my instructions."

"Professor Dumbledore, look at them! It's as if I have my sister back. Surely there can be no harm?"

"Incarcerous!" yelled the old wizard, and ropes bound Petunia to her seat.

"You hate magic, and don't want anything to do with it. Harry must grow up a normal child, and you will tell your neighbour Mrs Figg any time you see Harry doing freakish things," he reprogrammed her mind, "now Stupefy."

Petunia Dursley fell asleep, and Dumbledore finite'd the ropes binding her with a simple wave.

"As for you little Harry... looks like it's time to bind your core. Half should be enough, I would think. Oh, and let's not forget: Obliviate!"

The scene shifted.


A two-year old Harry Potter was cradled in Hagrid's arms, as the gentle giant delivered him to a waiting Dumbledore.

"Look at "im, his momma's hair an" eyes, an" his daddy's chin. Such a pretty boy he is, innit?" Hagrid cood at the auburn-haired little boy.

Dumbledore took a good look at the boy, as Harry shifted his hair from his natural auburn to a shade more closely resembling Hagrid's, and was beginning to morph his nose into a copy of the giant's.

"Oh dear, the Black Blood from Dorea has skipped a generation it seems. We can't have that..."

Dumbledore took out his wand, and forced Harry into black hair and green eyes, his face a copy of James' at that age. Then he bound Harry's metamorphic capabilities, just to be sure.

"Albus! What on earth are you doing to the wee lad?" exclaimed Professor McGonagall, who was there as well.

"It's all for the Greater Good Minerva. But just to be sure, Obliviate!"

The spell hit Minerva, Harry, and Hagrid.

The scene shifted.


Harry happily played with his toys in the Potter Cottage, with his parents and their best friend Sirius sitting at the table a little away. "Sirius, are you sure about switching to Peter?" he heard his father say, worry in his voice.

His favourite "uncle" replied: "It's the best choice James. Nobody would ever suspect Wormtail, so they'll still go after me. And you know that Moldywarts won't kill a member of the House of Black even if he catches me, so the worst I'll have to face is torture. Meanwhile you, Lily, and little Harry can escape further, and maybe rescue a dashing rogue."

"Can't you be serious at least once?" interjected his mother's voice, followed by his father's groan as Sirius claimed he always was.

"Pafoo pway," Harry called out, and the smiling young man went over to his "cousin" to play with the toddler.


Present-day Harry woke up again in the Hospital Wing in Hogwarts.

"Hermione? Hermione, wake up."

"Hmnhrg?" she grumbled, as she awoke and looked into Harry's eyes. His eyes had a sheen of intelligence and power to them that was never there before.

"Hermione, do you trust me?"


"No time to waste Hermione, if you trust me, take my hand."

She did so, and Harry and Hermione disappeared from the hospital wing in a smoke-like effect that was unlike either portkey or apparition.

A/N: Rewritten 02-10-2013. I've moved it up to a third-year fic.
Upon re-reading my original notes for this I've found what probably inspired me: Paladeus' "I Didn't Want to Remember', part of his "Into the Rabbit Hole" series, story ID 5121007. However, I am not following his guidelines for that short and only stole^H^H^H^H^H reuse the memory block concept here.

A/N 2: minor change perhaps, but I changed the text to make 'Finite' a NEWT level spell. Thanks to reviewer Faraway-R for some good thoughts on this. For the spell to be able to undo the damage Dumbledore did to Harry it has to be significantly more powerful than most things we've seen in canon.

A/N 3: Finite is now Finite Ultima. Bad Latin, but that's nothing new to the HP-verse...