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Chapter Text

“Catnip,” the raven haired man said to the gryphon statue in front of him.
It sprang to the side and revealed a spiraling staircase.

He stepped onto it and let himself be carried to his destination.
At the top of the staircase, he stepped forth and knocked on the old oak door.

“Come in,” the unmistakable voice with scottish accent called from within.
He opened the door and entered the office of Headmistress McGonagall.

“Ah, Harry. How was your summer?” she asked him as he sat down.

“Rather productive. We finally managed to catch Rookwood,” he answered her question.

Augustus Rookwood, notorious Death Eater and follower of Lord Voldemort.
One of the most dangerous men alive, who managed to survive and flee after the defeat of his Lord, only to cause chaos for three continuous years.

“I believe he was the last that escaped?” the old witch asked him.

“He was. Now, I can concentrate on teaching full time, if you’ll still have me,” Harry replied.

After the end of the war, he became an Auror and shortly after, a Hitwizard.
He wanted to catch every last Death Eater, to end it once and for all.

Still, Harry became a teacher almost a year after the war ended, albeit with some conditions.
He was allowed to leave the castle at any time he wasn’t teaching and in case of a raid or bigger mission, he got a substitute and left for that time frame.

McGonagall accepted these conditions.
Harry was one of the best teachers she could get and quite experienced, despite his age.
Which is a thought that saddened her.
The former lion was far too young for everything he had to live through.

Now, she could hire him full time as a professor for Defense against the Dark Arts and give him a quieter life.

Truthfully, he was as much involved in school business as her deputy headmaster, Filius Flitwick was, even now.
She trusted Harry, his instincts and his judgment.

Case in point, he was one of very few individuals which she allowed to use her first name.

“If you need, I can give you my O.W.L and N.E.W.T. results, as well as my Mastery documents and the work recommendations from the DMLE,” he stated with an amused expression.

He always carried his important documents with him since Hermione gifted him a bag, not unlike the one she used when they were on the run, albeit adapted to his style.

“That won’t be necessary, Harry. But there is something I wanted to ask your opinion for,” she replied and opened her desk drawer.
“I believe you taught young Mrs. Jensen.”

“Ah, yes. Mini Hermione,” he said amused.
The little girl was in every way like his best friend when she was in school.
Studious to a fault.

“A fitting description. Indeed, she shares a lot of her characteristics with Minister Granger,” she said with a small smile.
Hermione Granger, youngest Minister of Magic, brightest witch of her age, Harry’s best friend.
After the war, she ascended through the Ministry ranks in record time and started working for the betterment of the magical world almost immediately.

Harry smiled as well.
His friends were one of the things he took his motivation from, when he was at his lowest.
During the war, they were at his side.
After the breakup with Ginny, Hermione let him sleep on her couch until he felt better.
During Missions, Ron always had his back.

Yes, his friends were always there for him.

“I want your opinion for something concerning Mrs. Jensen,” McGonagall said and slided him a piece of parchment.

He took it and skimmed the information.
“Every elective?” he asked amused and chuckled.
“She really is like Hermione. So, you plan on giving her one of the school time-turners?” 

“I do. But I wanted to consult you beforehand, so we can write down a few rules she has to follow, since you have some experience using one,” she replied.

He nodded.
“I would firstly advise her to make larger jumps than just the lesson, so she can get a break after each class, before going to the next one. FUrthermore, I would inform the Professors and ask them to slightly reduce the homework for the girl. Hermione almost worked herself into a burnout in our third year,” he listed from the top of his head.

McGonagall wrote everything down and discussed it for another hour.

“Now, I would like you to inspect the time-turner, before I can hand it to her at the beginning of term,” she stated and levitated the time-turner from a shelf towards him.

Harry took it and the world around him got blurry, while he felt like he was squeezed through a tight pipe.

Chapter Text

When the world around Harry stopped spinning, he felt exhausted like never before.

Just from muscle memory, he pulled a pepper-up potion from his bag and downed it in one go, before looking up again.

He looked at McGonagall.
“I believe that this time-turner should not be given to a student, Minerva.” he said dryly.

But something was weird.
McGonagall sat not in the same seat as a moment prior, but next to him.
She also wore different robes and looked younger.

The longer he looked at her and her shocked expression, the paler he became and the knot in his stomach got tighter.

“Excuse me, young man. But who are you?” a grandfatherly voice from the Headmaster's desk asked.

No, no, no, no, no.
Harry knew that voice.
But that couldn’t be.

He slowly turned his head around.
And there he was.
Albus Dumbledore, with his twinkling eyes behind his half moon glasses.

Harry gulped and got even paler.

“He seems like he has seen a ghost,” a squeaky voice from his other side remarked.
He didn’t need to turn around to know whose voice it was.
Filius Flitwick.

“You could say that,” Harry whispered.
He opened his palm and looked down at the time-turner which looked like it was burned severely.
“What year is it?” he asked slowly.

“1971,” Dumbledore answered, looking at the time-turner in Harry’s hand.
“From which year are you?” he asked softly.

“August 2001,” he replied, before looking up and into Dumbledore's eyes.
He had just one question now, but did he want the answer?
He feared what the answer might be.
“I cannot go back, can I?” he asked quietly.

Dumbledore took a moment to mull over the question.
“I fear not, my boy,” he replied.

Harry slumped in his seat.
30 years.
He was 30 years in the past, with no way back.

“What am I gonna do now?” he asked himself.
And then a realization hit him and he whipped his head up rather fast.
“Voldemort is rising, is he not?” he asked, clenching his hands on the armrests.

“He is,” Dumbledore answered.

Now Harry let out a string of curses that would make every sailor jealous.
“Why? I only just captured the last of his fucking followers a few weeks ago, Voldemort was defeated 3 years ago. Why do I get sent back to a time where he is on the fucking rise?” he angrily asked himself.

That hat all of the professors in the room perk up for a moment.

“Before we can go over these questions, would you introduce yourself to us? You seem to know us all,  judging by you using my first name, but we don’t know you,” McGonagall stated.

Harry sat back.
“Yes, of course,” he nodded and then took a deep breath.
“My name is Harry James Potter. I was born 31 July 1980 to James Potter and Lily Potter, Nee Evans. If my math is correct, they should be students right now,” at that point his voice broke for a moment.
“I never got to know them. They died Halloween 1981 to an attack of Voldemort…” he continued to tell the gathered professors his life story up until the point where he was sent back in time.

Although he skipped a few details, which he already planned on only telling Dumbledore for now.
Things like the Horcruxes of Voldemort or the prophecy.

When he finished narrating the story, a multitude of hours have passed and the room was quiet.

Harry purposefully let his Occlumency shields down while narrating, so Dumbledore could verify the truth with Legilimency and see the memories while Harry spoke.

Dumbledore himself sat back and stroked his long beard.
“You have had quite the eventful life,” he began, before Professor Sprout interrupted him.

“Is his presence here not a danger to time itself?” she asked concerned.

“I believe not, Pomona,” the Headmaster shook his head.
“No, it just changes how time will progress from here on. The future where he came from, is not our future anymore, which is why I said that he cannot return to his time.”

Harry looked at the Headmaster.
“By accidentally going back, I created a new timeline, which differs from the one I know. That is what you think, isn’t it?” he asked the wizened man.

Dumbledore nodded.
“Indeed. The future you came from is merely another universe, while our world will progress with the presence of you 30 years in the past.”

McGonagall then spoke up next.
“You said you worked as a DADA professor? Do you have your documents with you, by any chance?” she asked Harry.

Harry nodded and opened his bag.
He fished his O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. results, as well as his Mastery Papers out of it, before handing it to her.

“I believe we can at least solve the problem of what you are gonna do,” she stated as she looked over the results.
“O+ in both O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. for DADA, Charms and Transfiguration, as well as Mastery for all three subjects,” she said to the other people gathered.

“That is impressive,” Flitwick chimed in.

Dumbledore turned to Harry.
“My boy, can I interest you in a position as DADA professor?” he asked.

“It was what I would’ve done in my time, before the incident,” he said with a shrug.
“So yes, you can. Still, there is the issue with my identity and me not being legally born yet.”

“That, I can help you with,” Dumbledore said and pulled out a parchment and ritual knife.
“Three drops of blood will give us a list of possibilities.”

Harry took the knife and cut his finger.
Three drops later, he saw the same page he had seen at Gringotts once, but slightly different.

“Hmmm, it seems like we cannot make you part of the Potter family,” Dumbledore said as he studied the parchment.
“That would raise many questions. But you can take the name Peverell. You have a blood right to the name,” he continued.
“You were privately tutored, before making yourself a life in the wizarding world at large. You just need to choose a name, so we can forge the documents easily.”

Harry thought about it for a moment.
It was certainly the best option for now.
And taking a new name isn’t that new for him.
He had one for a long term undercover mission once.
“Hadrian Draconis Peverell.”

Dumbledore nodded and wrote it down.
“I will take care of this. Welcome, Professor Peverell.”

—

A few hours later, Harry found himself in Dumbledore’s office again.
This time, only he and Dumbledore were there.

“There was something you didn’t say during your narration, my boy,” he said to Harry.
It wasn’t accusatory, but merely curiousity.

Harry nodded.
“It was information that you didn’t openly shared with many people in my time,” he answered and took a deep breath, before telling Dumbledore about the Prophecy and Horcruxes.

“He made Horcruxes? Multiple at that?” he asked with a shaky voice.

Harry nodded gravely.
“He did. And I will be damned if I let him do what he did in my time,” he stated, before looking Dumbledore in the eyes.
“You said this is a different timeline now. I will help you end this war in a way that won’t make it possible for him to return and start another war down the line. I did everything I could to stop him last time, even capturing all his followers.”

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment.
“Alright, my boy. I will accept your help. In this, you are the more knowledgeable.”

Chapter Text

Harry woke early the next day.
He planned to attend some pressing matters today, so he did just that.

Getting a three piece suit out of his bag, he dressed himself before going to the great hall for breakfast.

Luckily, it was a week before start of term, so only the professors were here and no student to worry about.
He made some small talk with the other Professors while eating, before a single owl entered the hall and dropped a letter in front of Harry.

He took the offered letter and studied it closely.
It was from Gringotts, specifically from Snapclaw, his account manager.
At least, his future one.

Curious as he was, he opened the letter and began reading.

Dear Mr. Potter,

it seems like you found yourself quite a bit outside of your own time.
Picture my surprise when I entered my office this morning to find information on a customer named Harry James Potter, born 1980, with detailed account information.

Now, I won’t ask you what happened, since it doesn’t concern me.
I would nonetheless ask you to report to my office on the earliest convenience.

Gringotts Account Manager,
Snapclaw

Harry hummed in contemplation for a moment.
This will make things a little easier at least.
He planned to visit Gringotts either way after breakfast.
Snapclaw having the information will make it a lot quicker.

But where did the information come from?
Is it some goblin magic that summoned the stuff?
Possibly. Harry knew that Goblin magic was cast on every customer to connect them to their own vaults and for Gringotts to key their magical signature into the specific wards.
It could explain why they have this information now.

Having finished breakfast, Harry walked down the Hogwarts grounds towards the ward line.
After he stepped out of the wards, he apparated straight to Diagon Alley.

It looks almost like he remembers it.
Yet people are a little more cautious than usual.
Well, who can blame them?
It is the years prior to the first war with Voldemort.
People have started to disappear or mysteriously die.

As he walked up the steps to the bank, he nodded to the armed goblin guards at the entrance, before they opened the door for him.

Inside, he went to one of the tellers responsible for meetings with account managers.
He looked at the nametag for a second, before making his presence known.

“Greetings Master Shrugaxe, may your enemies fall before you,” he traditionally greeted the goblin.

Shrugaxe expression changed from a hardly concealed frown to a surprised smirk.
“Greetings Wizard. What business do you have at Gringotts?”

“I was summoned by Account Manager Snapclaw this morning,” he answered and handed the teller the second piece of parchment that the letter entailed, verifying his claim.

The goblin carefully read the document, before nodding.
“Follow me.”

Harry followed the goblin through a series of corridors, before standing in front of a door he knew well.

Shrugaxe left him while he knocked.
After a short “Enter!” he went inside.

“Mister Potter, I presume?”

Harry nodded.
“Indeed, Master Snapclaw.”

The goblin shook his head.
“None of that formality. From what these documents say, we will work closely with each other, 30 years from now.”

“If I will be born in this timeline, that is,” Harry answered.

“Ah yes. Time is a fickle thing,” the goblin grinned.

“And time is money, when spent with the correct individuals,” Harry grinned back.

“Just so. Now, we have a small problem on our hands.”

“The accounts detailed and my finances are non-existent. I gathered as much. Which is why I would like to open a new account under the new name I will legally take with the help of Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“And what name would that be?”

“Hadrian Draconis Peverell,” Harry replied with a grin.

Snapclaw hummed in thought.
“The Peverell and Potter line are related. I take it you did a blood test and the line recognizes you?”

Harry nodded again.
“I would also like to take Lordship of House Peverell, if possible.”

“I will organize everything.”

—--

“Alright Albus, why are we here?” a grizzled and scarred man asked him after taking a seat in the headmasters office.

“Patience, Alastor. We are still waiting for one more person.”

The room was filled with a good many people that Albus Dumbledore invited and trusts.

“Aren’t we all here?” asked another man with midnight black hair and piercing grey eyes.

Before anyone else could say something, the door to the office opened again and a young man entered.

“Ah, there you are,” Dumbledore said with his trademark twinkle as the man took a seat.
“I take it the preparations are done?”

The man nodded.
“Indeed, Headmaster.”

“Then let me introduce you to the others,” he said and gestured to the room.
“My friends, this is Hadrian Draconis Peverell, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts.”

“Is he any good?” one person asks.

“It doesn’t matter. He won’t be here for more than one year with the curse.” a younger one answered.

The other Professors in the room tried to hide their smirks, but the scarred man noticed.

“You know something,” he stated towards the Professors, before turning to Harry.
He analyzed him with his normal and magical eye, before smirking as well.
“You found the anchor.”

Harry himself grinned.
“Not bad, Mad-Eye. Seems like I was right, you can see through heavily warded chests.”

Harry pulled a small warded chest from his pockets and placed it on the headmasters table.
He wordlessly opened it and everyone in the room apart from Harry and Dumbledore gasped.

“Is that?” one asked.

“The lost diadem of Ravenclaw?” Flitwick inquired faintly.

Dumbledore nodded.
“It is. And it was tainted with very dark magic. Two kinds, to be specific.”

Harry looked at Dumbledore.
“Are you sure, Albus?”

The headmaster looked at Harry and nodded.
“It has been too long since I truly trusted others. You showed me where that will lead us.”

“What are you talking about?” the black haired man asked.

“There are some secrets that I hold close to my chest, Arcturus. Many, I never planned on telling others. But this one, I fear, I need to share with my most trusted.”

“Just what kind of secret is this, when you don’t want to share it?” another man with wild hair asked.

“Voldemort made Horcruxes,” Harry replied flatly.

Most people looked confused, apart from the person that Dumbledore called Arcturus.

“Truly?” the man asked.

Harry and Dumbledore nodded gravely.

“What are Horcruxes exactly, to get such a reaction from Black?” a woman asked.

“A Horcrux is an item in which a wizard stores a part of his soul. The ritual to do so is so unhuman, I won’t dare speak of it. As long as the Horcrux exists, the wizard is tied to the realm of the living and cannot die,” Dumbledore answered.

The room was silent for a few minutes.
“I see why you don’t want to tell anyone, Albus. This could cause a panic.” Moody then said.

“How do we destroy them?” the woman asked.

“Fiendfyre or Basilisk Venom,” Harry replied.

“Well, we don’t have a basilisk at hand, so we need a place to use Fiendfyre,” McGonagall stated.

“Not quite right, Minerva,” Harry said.
“I know where to find a Basilisk, and we should get rid of it soon.”

“Yes, Hadrian is correct. After he told me, I scouted the place with my Patronus. The main reason why I called you here was because of the basilisk,” Dumledore said.

“What are we waiting for then?” one person stood up.
“We must kill the beast.”

“It is asleep as of now. And has been for almost 40 years. And I still haven’t introduced you all to young Hadrian,” Dumbledore admonished.

The man grumbled but sat back down.

“Now then, let me introduce you. Next to you is Alastor Moody,” he began and Moody grunted.
“Then we have Arcturus Black,” the black haired man nodded.
“Charlus Potter,” the wild haired man nodded as well.
“Amelia Bones,” the woman smiled slightly.
“Erastes Longbottom nee Malfoy,” the man that stood before grunted.
“Daedalus Diggle,” another man nodded.
“Kingsley and Elizabeth Shacklebolt,” a black man and woman nodded.
“And Arnold Weasley,” a red haired man nodded.
“The other Hogwarts Professors here, you know already.”

“Now, where is the Basilisk?” Charlus Potter asked.

“In the Chamber of Secrets,” Harry replied.

“And how do we get in there, pray tell? If it even exists,” Erastes Longbottom inquired.

“First off, Dumbledore already confirmed the Basilisks existance, do you doubt him?” Harry asked sharply, making the man gulp.
“And secondly,” Harry smirked.
“§Why don’t you ask the Parselmouth in the room?§”

Multiple people gaped.
“You are a Parselmouth?” Amelia Bones asked.

Harry shrugged.
“It isn’t like it’s rare,” he replied.
“Only most in Europe hide the ability or never realize. In Egypt, India and South America, it is a highly regarded gift.”

And wasn’t that a surprise when Harry found out in his time.
European people are prejudiced idiots, who would've guessed.

“But why would people hide it?” Kingsley asked.

“Because they fear the very reaction most of you showed. Fear and hate,” he bit out and held up his hand.
“Don’t even bother denying. I don’t even need to be as proficient in legilimency as I am to see that. Any first year would be able to tell. And I don’t care. You can be as much of a prejudiced git as you want to be. Dumbledore trusts you people, so I give you the benefit of not hexing you back into the dark ages, where such a mindset would belong.”

Moody snorted.
“Lad, I don’t give a damn about you being a Parselmouth or not. As long as you are not a Death Eater or follower of Grindelwald, we don’t have a problem,” his eyes rested on Harry.
“But telling a room of experienced wizards off like that? And being able to go through with that threat, if you need to? I can respect that,” he said with a grin.

Harry grinned as well.

Most of the room was silent, most people being a little flustered in shame.

It was until Dumbledore clapped his hands, before the atmosphere changed.
“Now, I believe we have a Basilisk to kill.”

Chapter Text

The party descended down the stairs from the headmasters office towards the second floor.

“Say lad, how did you know where to find the chamber?” Moody asked him as they passed the fourth floor.

“Oh, that is quite simple,” he chuckled.
“Only, most wizards don’t really think logically, so they never bothered. I asked a few ghosts.”

“The ghosts?” Arcturus inquired.

Harry nodded.
“The bloody baron and the gray lady both lived when this castle was built. Why, the gray lady is Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter, Helena, while the baron is the nephew of Salazar Slytherin. Besides, the last victim of the basilisk still lives where she died.”

“The last victim?” Charlus asked confused.

The question was answered when Harry opened the door to the girls bathroom and a young girl's ghost sat on one sink, wailing.

“May I introduce you, this is Myrtle Waren.”

The adults were silent and Dumbledore looked sadly at the ghost.

The ghost perked up at hearing the people enter.
“You really came back?” she asked.

“I promised, didn’t I?” Harry replied.
“Besides, it is time someone killed the beast that killed you.”

He walked to one of the sinks.
“§Open§” he hissed and a tunnel opened before the group.
“§Stairs§” he then hissed and the slope changed into a staircase.

Honestly, it has taken Harry two years after the battle to even try this and he felt immensely dumb he never tried it before.
He should’ve known that Salazar Slytherin wouldn deign himself to slide down to the chamber.

He walked first, the others following behind him.
When they entered the underground caves, he heard them take in sharp breaths.

He rolled his eyes at that.
“Yes, that is one shed skin. Did you think that a Basilisk of over a thousand years age would be small?” he snarked and continued onward.

“Everyone ready?” Dumbledore asked them as they took positions around the chamber, while Harry stood in front of the statue of Slytherin.

After a chorus of confirmations, Harry turned to face the statue.
“§Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the founders!§”

The mouth of the statue opened and a single sound filled the chamber.
It sounded like sharp metal grinding against metal.

Harry held his ground as the giant Basilisk left the mouth of the statue and looked at him.
“§You are not an heir of Slytherin, young speaker,§” she remarked.

“§No, I am not. Yet, I do have business with you.§”

“§You may speak.§”

So far, so good.
Serpents have a baseline respect for the speakers of Parseltongue and Harry’s theory.
As long as no one ordered her to, she wouldn’t attack a speaker unprovoked.

“§It saddens me to say, but you are a danger to the school and it’s students.§” he said to her, before throwing his head to the sides.
“NOW!”

Multiple spells shot through the room at her head.
Two of them hit true to their mark and destroyed her eyes.

“§BETRAYAL!§” she loudly hissed and thrashed around.

No one said that a blind Basilisk was harmless.

No, they now had a giant, highly venomous snake that was pissed at their hands.

Harry dove to the side and fired his own barrage of spells at the snake.

The room was filled with spells of all colors and variety.
Cutting curses, blasting curses, bludgeoning hexes, bone breaker and crushers, elemental spells and even some dark spells straight from multiple family grimoires.

Every spell that hit the scales just bounced off.

In it’s blind fury, the Basilisk managed to hit Erastes straight in the chest and threw him right against a wall, where he crumbled to the ground.

A fang caught Moody at his left hand.
But the seasoned Auror reacted quickly and in one swift motion just cut the arm from his elbow and cauterized the wound.

Finally, someone managed to hit the snake in its open mouth with a powerful cutting curse.
When the beast shrieked in pain, Harry shot an overpowered Reducto straight down it’s throat.

A meter behind its head, the snake exploded from within and fell with a thundering thud to the ground.
It still shriveled for a good minute, before laying there, unmoving.

“Report!” Dumbledore called.

“Longbottom broke his neck in that crash, he is dead.” Arcturus called.

“A stray boulder hit my leg. The bone is crushed.” Charlus added.

“And Moody lost yet another part of his body.” Harry finished as he looked over the stump of the man, cleaning it and correcting where the hasty work of the Auror didn’t do good enough.

“Another prosthetic so what,” the man grunted.
“Not many out there can say they were bitten by a Basilisk and still live.”

“Not many have fought one in a long time either,” Flitwick chirped in.

“Good shot at the end there, lad,” Moody praised as he clapped Harry on the back.

Harry nodded.
After he was sure that Moody’s stump was in good enough condition to get a prosthetic, he went to the dead snake.

He opened one of his pockets and got a silver dagger out.

“Is that goblin silver?” McGonagall asked.

Harry nodded.
“I bought it at Gringotts a few days back,” he replied as he held it carefully under a fang that dripped venom.
“Goblin silver takes in what makes it stronger, including Basilisk venom and it’s properties.”

He then pulled out the box with the diadem in it and carefully opened it.

The others took their distance from him as he took a fortifying breath.
In one swift motion, the dagger swung down at the diadem and pierced it.

A loud and inhuman shriek came from it as black smoke billowed from it and the ground was soaked in black ooze.

Harry twisted the dagger and a second shriek filled the chamber, before the smoke stopped and only the black ooze was still leaking from the thing.

“One down, who knows how many more to go,” Harry mumbled.

And that was the problem, Harry thought.
He knew every Horcrux that Voldemort had made.
He just didn’t know when he made them.

Sure, he knew that at least the diary and ring exist already at this point.
But when did he make the locket and cup?

Harry was reasonably sure that he made Nagini into a Horcrux after his resurrection.

—

After the battle with the Basilisk, the Professors took the next few days off.

Which now left Harry with only two more days to prepare for his lessons.
And while he had some ideas about it, he also needed to think about his future students and how to deal with them.

The marauders would be in their third year now.
From everything Harry knew, they will soon start the process of becoming animagi.

Snape and his mother were still friends, but slowly drifting apart because of the direction most Slytherins in this time drifted.

Harry heard some of it from Narcissa Malfoy.
After the war, they talked a few times.

Harry wanted to thank her for lying to Voldemort on his behalf.

That was how Harry learned that she never supported any of the beliefs of her husband.
She was forced into the marriage by a contract in the summer before her fourth year, so in about a year from now.
Everything she did from there on was look out for herself.

That was, until she had Draco.
Her focus shifted to protecting her son then.

Harry’s thoughts were whirling.
He had the chance to save Narcissa from that fate, if he did everything right.
But would Draco be born if he did?

They may not have been friends, but Draco was almost the mirror image of himself, forced into a role because of outside expectations and influences.
Harry felt some kinship with him in that regard.

But then again, this was not his timeline.
The Draco he knows still exists, just in his old timeline.
And he would want his mother to be happy.

Harry made his decision then.
He would save as many people as he can.
And he would start with the Slytherins.

He opened a journal and began writing down names and ideas what to do.

~~~

Narcissa Black (save from marriage contract)

Severus Snape (protect from excessive bullying)

Regulus Black (-)

Bellatrix Black (-)

…

…

Remus Lupin (Wolfsbane)

~~~

Chapter Text

McGonagall stared at the chair that Harry occupied moments prior, trying to comprehend what the hell just happened.

Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, hero of wizarding britain and one of the people she calls her friend, just vanished.

Where did he go?

No, when did he go?

She heard a knock from her door and for a moment, she hoped that he would enter through it, grumbling about defect time-turners.

But when Filius entered instead, she broke down.

It is just like three years ago, when Hagrid carried his limp form.
When she thought that she lost one of her bravest lions in the fight against that monster.

But this time, it was her fault.
Just because she asked him about his opinion about the time-turner instead of just declining.

She knew the risk of a burnout for the students, but she wanted them to learn that themself, so she needed to give them one.
At least, she thought.

Now…now one of those blasted things whisked away one of the people she cared about most.

16 years ago, her husband died and she was left alone.

4 years ago, Dumbledore died and something in her broke.

Now, Harry was lost to time and she broke.

—

Hermione walked home as if in a trance.
How could this day go so horribly wrong?

The morning began like every other.
That is, until Mineerva McGonagall stepped through her floo, looking devastated.

And Hermione herself wanted to break down when she heard what had happened.
But no, she couldn’t.
She needed to do everything in her power.
Her best friend and brother in all but blood was missing and she would be damned if she gave up.

As she stormed down to the department of mysteries, everyone in her way jumped aside.
No one dared stand in her path or speak to her for fear of their lives.

She threw the door to DOM open with a loud bang and demanded the Unspeakables to search for Harry with everything they had.
She yelled everyone working in the time room into submission, before they scrambled and worked at record speed.

That was when the next message hit her.
They couldn’t find him anywhere or anytime.
It was like he was erased from the timeline entirely.

Her last chance were the goblins of Gringotts.
But the answer she got was the same.

The last thing she did was to let the prophet write an article and set a prize of thousands of galleons for information.

But that was everything she could do.

For the first time, she couldn’t do more for her best friend.
For the first time, she couldn’t be there for him.
For the first time since befriending him, she felt utterly alone and helpless.

—

“The Daily Prophet, Miss,” the old house elve said as he handed the paper to his mistress.

“My thanks,” she replied and took the paper.

She opened it and almost immediately her cup of tea fell from her trembling hand.
“DRACO!” she yelled.

The man came to the sitting room as quickly as he could.
“You called, mother?”

She wordessly thrusted the paper towards her son, who took it and read the first article, going pale while doing so.
“No,” he whispered in horror.

Harry Potter, the boy who gave them a second chance and forgave their failings, disappeared without a trace.

Now, they only had each other left.
Not many people wanted to associate with them after the last war.

Harry was one of the exceptions, despite everything Draco did to him.

Now, the Malfoy Family had no one left on their side but themselves.

—

“Teddy?” Andromeda asked gently as she knocked on his door.
But no answer came but muffled sobs.

The article in the Daily Prophet devastated the young boy.

His hair and features shifted throughout every form and color possible, before settling on messy raven black hair and emerald green eyes.

She knew what that meant.
He wanted his godfather.
But at the same time, he knew he wouldn’t see him again.

Her grandchild lost yet another loving part of his family.
He lost the person that was a father to him in everything but blood.

And Andromeda lost another part of her family.

The boy lost everyone at a far too young age.

—

The Weasley family was far too subdued for the amount of people gathered.

George looked like an empty shell with a blank stare.

Molly was silently crying over a sweater with an H on it.

Ron was in the garden, silently hexing every gnome he found.

Ginny was looking at her hands, tears moments away from spilling.

Bill and Charlie sat by the fire, looking into the flames.

Percy buried himself under mountains of paperwork.

Arthur was in his shed, tinkering with god-knows-what.
He hasn’t left it since he has seen the article.

Angelina Johnson and Fleur Delacour sat at the kitchen table, cold tea in their cups.

No one in the Burrow said a word that day.
And it would be years until someone saw a Weasley smile again.

—

The Daily Prophet                                                                       August 30th 2001

Harry Potter, hero of wizarding Britain, vanished without a trace.

Harry James Potter, famously known as the-boy-who-lived and the hero of wizarding Britain, disappeared without a single trace as of August 29th.
After inspecting a time-turner, Harry Potter vanished from where he was moments prior.

The Unspeakables and Goblins could not find any hint about his whereabouts or how far into the past he was thrown.

[...]

Should any citizen have information about the situation, they are to contact the Ministry of Magic.
Any helpful information will be rewarded with 5000 Galleons.

We at the Daily Prophet hope for the best.

Rita Skeeter

—

Everyone that knew Harry Potter lost a little of themself on that day.

Chapter Text

“It is time, gentlemen!” a boy with shoulder length black hair announced.

“We are back in this great halls!” another with unruly hair exclaimed.

“It is time to cause new mischief!” a shorter boy with blonde hair called.

The fourth of the group just smiled fondly.

The four marauders took their seats at the end of the Gryffindor table.

“Now, my fellow pranksters, it is time for the bets!” the first one said excitedly.

“Ten Galleons on the new DADA teacher being a guy.” the blonde stated.

“20 on a woman for that position” the second guy added.

“I go with Wormtail and add a months worth of chocolate,” the fourth said.

“I’ll go with Prongs then. 10 Galleons on top.”

They noted it down.

“And the fate?” Prongs asked.

“Gruesome incident. 30 Galleons”

“Oh, high bet Padfoot. I say personal scandal, 15 Galleons.”

“That was the last one, Prongs. Attacking a student, 20 Galleons.”

“And you, Moony?” Padfoot asked.

The boy hummed.
“I’ll say he involuntarily injures a student and quits. Two months of transfiguration homework.”

They noted that down as well.

“Oh, there come the new firsties!” Prongs exclaimed excitedly.

As the new students got sorted, the Marauders cheered for the Gryffindors, clapped for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and booed for every Slytherin.

After the following feast, Dumbledore stood from his seat.
“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I have a few announcements to make, before I send you off to bed. First off, it should be said that the forbidden forest is, as the name suggests, forbidden for all students. Some of our older students ought to remember that as well,” he said and looked towards the Marauders.
“Furthermore Mr. Filch added a few new items to his list of forbidden items, found on his office doors. Additionally, I remind you that magic is prohibited in the corridors. Lastly, let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Professor Peverell!”

As he gestured to the doors of the great hall, they opened wide.

Through them walked a man in a stylish three piece suit.
His stride was confident and powerful.
His gaze was gentle, yet dangerous.
The grin on his lips spoke of untold magical ability.

The students stared in awe as he made his way up to the head table, where he shook Dumbledore's hand, before turning to the students.

He looked over the gathered student body, before nodding once.
“It is good to be here and teach all of you. Make no mistake, I may look young to you, but I have seen far more than any of you ever will,” his grin turned a little malicious.
“Keep up.”

After that impromptu speech, Dumbledore sent the students back to their dorms.

—

Harry could strangle that old man with his own damn beard.
His first lesson was with the third year Gryffindor and Slytherin class.

The first lesson he will teach and sitting in front of him will be the Marauders, his parents, Snape and the Black Sisters.

He hoped to have a few lessons with other classes, before having to face them.
Instead they will be the first he faces.

This is going to be great…

He went over the lesson one last time in his mind.
Third years were to learn defense against dangerous magical creatures.

But this is also a chance, Harry realized.
He could ask Remus after the lesson about his future plans with the werewolf lesson and show him the wolfsbane potion today.

Ok, maybe not everything will be bad.

He leaned against his desk at the front of the room and waited for the lesson to begin.
When the bell signaled the five minute mark, he waved his hand towards the door and it swung open, granting the class entrance.

He watched the students gather their seats and noted who sat down where.

Snape and Narcissa sat next to each other, behind Bellatrix and an unknown Slytherin.
Remus and Lily sat at the other side of the room, also next to each other.

There was a clear divide between Slytherin and Gryffindor in this class, even more so than in his old classes.

But most notably, there were still three empty seats and a suspicious lack of Marauders.

When the lesson began, Harry took role first.

As he put the parchment away to address the class, three students rushed into the room.

“Mr. Black, Mr. Potter and Mr. Pettigrew,” he said neutrally.
“20 Points apiece for being over 5 minutes late for class and detention on Friday Evening. Now sit down.”

The three Marauders look struck and didn’t move.

“But Professor…” the young Sirius began.

“Nothing but, Mr. Black,” Harry bellowed.
“I won’t tolerate being late to my classes. Should this happen again, you are barred from attending any further DADA classes. Now. Sit. Down.”

The three cowed and sat down at their desks.

Harry looked at his class again.
“That extends to all of you. One time being late will result in point loss and detention. The second time will see you out of this class. Furthermore, I won’t tolerate any kind of discrimination or bullying in my classroom,” he looked sternly over the students gathered.

He clapped once, before smiling at them.
“Now, let me introduce myself. I am Professor Peverell and will teach you DADA in the coming years. You heard correctly, years. The anchor of the curse that befell this post has been found and destroyed this summer.”

He walked in between the desks to the back of the class while speaking now.
“I will be teaching you everything you need to know to survive in the world out there. Be that from curses, wizards attacking you or dangerous magical creatures. The curriculum for the third year focuses on creatures,” he said and turned around at the back of the room and walking back.

“Now, which magical creatures might be covered?” he asked the class.
“Mrs. Evans?”

“Trolls, sir.”

He nodded and the chalk started writing on the blackboard.
“Do you know how many species of trolls there are?” he asked a follow up question.”

“Three?” she asked slightly unsure.

He hummed.
“Close. There are three commonly known types of troll. The mountain troll, forest troll and cave troll. However, there exist also the rarer plains troll, river troll and desert troll. While almost extinct, there are still some enclaves of those three. Next? Mrs. Black?”

“Banshees, sir.”

He nodded again.
“Next? Mrs. McCinnon?”

“Boggarts?”

“Correct. Next? Mr. Snape?”

“Grindylows.”

This continued on for a few minutes, before the class fell silent.
“No more ideas?” he asked them.
He still had a few more he wanted to write down, and hoped they name them.

“Basilisks?” Bellatrix Black asked.

Harry chuckled.
“While dangerous, there is only one thing I can recommend you do if you face one. Run away. It takes a group of highly trained wizards to even face one, let alone defeat. And it is advisable to do so with the help of a Parselmouth, although the ones in Britain hide their ability for the most part, due to prejudice,” he answered.

Harry looked at the blackboard again.
So far, they had Trolls, Banshees, Grindylows, Kappas, Boggarts, Acromantulas, Giants, Blast Ended Skrewts, Chimaeras, Doxys, Red Caps, Dragons, Firecrabs, Ghouls, Hinkypunks, Lethifolds, Manticores, Nundus, Pixies and Runespoors.

“Alright, let’s get this sorted through, shall we?” he asked them and took the chalk.
“Pixies should have been in second year, if not I will fit them in somewhere,” he said as he crossed them out.
“Giants are near human enough to be no danger, as long as they are unprovoked,” he continued and crossed them out.
“Ghouls can be tame, so they are not part of the curriculum,” he crossed them out as well.
“Now to those that are too dangerous to be taught to you, which I disagree with but can’t do anything about. Acromantulas, Chimaeras, Dragons, Lethifolds, Manticores, Nundus and Runespoors,” he said as he crossed them out as well.

“That now leaves us with Trolls, Grindylowsn Kappas, Boggarts, Blast Ended Skrewts, Doxys, Red Caps, Firecrabs and Hinkypunks,” he looked over the class once more.

“However, there are three more that are not part of the official curriculum that I want you to know about,” he stated as he added three more.
“Inferi, Dementors and Werewolves.”

When he looked over the class, he saw Remus shrink the tiniest bit into himself.

“One thing should be said first and foremost. Werewolves might be on this list, but they are not inherently dangerous. Lycanthropy is a curse that no one chooses for himself. They are a victim of it themself. The transformation is said to be very painful. While in the form of the wolf, the werewolf has no control, leaving only the most basic instincts to drive them, which is the hunt. Outside of the full moon, a werewolf might be a bit stronger and faster than a regular person with the addition of better senses, but they are just regular people for all nights but one per month. I will have no talking bad about them,” he looked sternly over the room and saw Remus relax the slightest bit.
“We will talk later in the year about them in more detail.”

He leaned back against his desk.
“Now, the reason I added those three is quite simple. Every Dark Lord in history has used them to fight for them at some point. Inferi are quite easy to create, once you know the method and incantation and can be mass produced as cannon fodder. Dementors just exist to suck out every positive emotion out of people, otherwise they starve. That is the reason they usually follow whoever promises them the least restrictions. Lastly, werewolves commonly join out of desperation.”

After that, Harry explained how he planned on teaching them.
They will take about two weeks per creature and how to deal with them.

For the lessons, he tries to get the needed creature for more practical lessons.
Which means that the order may shift, if he comes across one of them unexpectedly.

When the bell signaled the end of the lesson, the students talked amongst themself excitedly, while Harry packed his things and cleaned the blackboard.
“Mr. Lupin, please stay for a minute,” he called over the chatter.
“Don’t worry, you are not in trouble,” he added on.

Harry walked to his office with Remus trailing behind him.
He closed the door and placed a cup of hot chocolate in front of Remus, before sitting down behind his desk.

“I must apologize to you, Mr. Lupin,” he began.

“What for?” he asked warily.

“For making you uncomfortable by mentioning werewolves,” he replied.

The boy stiffened and looked slightly panicking.

“Relax. I won’t tell anyone. And what I said in class was true. I won’t stand for discrimination because of something like that and you are a perfectly normal student,” he said gently and leaned back.
“You know, one of my uncles was a werewolf himself.”
Not technically a lie, but not entirely the truth either.

“Was?” he asked cautiously.
“What happened to him?”

Harry smiled sadly.
“He died, fighting by the side of his wife to protect their son.”

Harry looked out of the window, seeing something that isn’t there and hearing the soft laugh of his godson.

Harry shook his head.
“He is part of the reason I wanted to talk with you,” he stated and pulled out some parchment from his desk drawer and a potion vial, before pushing it towards Remus.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“A Potion he invented. He called it Wolfsbane,” Harry replied.
He felt bad to give this potion to someone, years before it was originally created.
But for Remus, he would do anything.
The man, or boy now, deserves a good life.
“When ingested the night before full moon, it dampens the pain of the transformation and grants you a level of control over the wolf.”

Remus went wide eyed, hardly believing what he heard.

“You can ask Madam Pomfrey, if you want to be sure. She can henceforth brew it for you,” he stated with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“No need to thank me. There is one more thing I wanted to ask you. I would like you to review my future lesson plans on werewolves. I want students to understand them like they truly are, not fear them as mindless beasts that need to be locked away.”

Remus nodded.
“I can do that.”

Harry smiled warmly at him again.
They talked for a few more minutes, before Remus stood to leave.

Harry opened the door for him and then narrowed his eyes at it.
“Mrs. Black, care to explain the eavesdropping charm on my door?” he asked.

Lupin went stiff as a board again and they heard an eep from an alcove at the wall, before Narcissa Black stepped out from it.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her.
“Explain,” he said coldly.

“I just wanted to know what type of person you are,” she timidly said.
“Rumor has it that the last DADA Professor creeped on older girls among the students. And Lupin is always so quiet and timid, so I was worried what you might do…” she trailed off.

Harry sighed loudly.
“Alright, here is what happens now. 30 Points from Slytherin for spying on a Professor. Detention on Saturday and Sunday evening. And you will swear an oath to Mr. Lupin to not tell anyone about his secret or discriminate against him in any form,” he stated.

She nodded quickly and swore the oath, which had Remus relax a little.

Harry sighed again.
"Honestly, Arcturus your family is already a handful,” he grumbled.

“You know my grandfather?” she asked surprised.

Harry smirked at her.
“Fought a Basilisk with him and a few others,” he replied casually.

Chapter Text

The rest of Harry’s week went by rather fast and without major issues.
The news of his handling of students being late spread through the school in under half a day, leaving him with only one Student being late for the entire week afterwards.

But Harry shouldn’t be surprised by that.
Lucius Malfoy always thought himself above others and rules.

He just wished that he could show the memory to his friends in a pensieve.
The expression of Lucius was absolutely priceless.

The rest of the week was rather uneventful.
He started the first years on some basic jinxes, the second years learned a little more complicated jinxes and the basic rules of dueling, he continued the creature lessons with his third years, started talking about curses with his fourth year, discussed counter curses and more powerful curses in the fifth year, got the sixth year a practical lesson where they could duel each other and talked about some of the most dangerous spells with his seventh years.

They were all rather eager to learn and listened intently to what he said, which made the whole ordeal rather fun.

He had a few conversations with other Professors in the evenings.
He talked with Minerva, Filius, Pomona and Horace about the versions of them he knew and asked for a bit of feedback for his lesson plans.

Professor Johnson, the current Professor for Ancient Runes, had a lengthy discussion with him about the curse on the DADA position, since it used runes to anchor itself.
She was fascinated by his approach to runes.

If Harry was honest, he wasn’t particularly skilled with runes.
He learnt it from Hermione while they were on the run, since there wasn’t much else to do, but he never took any classes in the subject.

He talked a bit with Hagrid and helped him handle some of the creatures in the forest.

The current Divination Professor, Professor Calistor, was far better than he remembered Trelawney being.
He had seer blood, but taught his lessons in a way that someone without the ability can understand and took every bit of Divination with a grain of salt.

The Professors for the other classes only shared short conversations with him at mealtimes, but nothing longer than a few sentences so far.

On Thursday, Harry entered the Chamber of Secrets once more to see if there was anything else hidden down there.
After all, it was the Chamber of Secrets. Plural. So there had to be more than a Basilisk, that still was under a preservation charm until they could decide what to do with it.

And if it was just for the Basilisk, Harry doubted that it would be ornamated this much.
No, there had to be more.

And there was.
Harry found a small personal study and library, a ritual room, a potions lab and a few items of interest.

He decided to leave most things there and come back at a later date, but he still took three books with him.
One was about Parselmagic, one about Familiars and the last one looked like a personal Grimoire.

He was just flipping through it, when he heard a knock on his classroom door.
He looked at the clock on his wall.
8 PM. It was time for the Marauders detention.
Closing the book, he banished it to his quarters, before opening the door the same as always.

“Take a seat,” he said to the three boys.

James and Sirius pranced to two of the three prepared desks, while Peter looked scared while he scrambled to his desk.

Harry looked over them.
“Now then, this detention will be a little different from what you are used to. Because I won’t have you write mindless sentences for hours. No, instead you will walk me through your thought process that lead you to belief that being late is acceptable and why it, in fact, is not acceptable.”

He looked at Sirius first.
“Mr. Black, you first.”

“Don’t call me that,” he growled.

“What? Don’t call you by your name? I know you hate your parents,” he said dismissively.
“Get over it. Yes, they are absolutely shit human beings, but not all Blacks are. Or would you say that you are ashamed of your cousins, Narcissa, Bellatrix and Andromeda? Or your grandfather, Arcturus? Or perhaps your brother, Regulus?” he asked pointedly.

Sirius just gulped and looked down at his table.

“Not everyone in a family is shit, just because some are,” he continued.
“I know your grandfather. Arcturus is a good man. He just is not a family person, which is ironic as the Lord of the Black Family, since Family is everything for them. Arcturus is a warrior. He tries to keep out of his children's business,” he sighed.
“Which is arguably not good, but changing his mindset would take time. No, I will continue to call you Mr. Black, since I respect your grandfather and the name of your family.”

Sirius just nodded.

“Now, why were you late and what made it acceptable, in your mind?”

“We were pranking some Slytherins on our way from breakfast. We thought it important…” he mumbled.

“And why was it important?” he inquired.

“Slytherins are evil and dark wizards,” he defended.

“Are they?” Harry asked innocently.
“Did you know that Merlin was a Slytherin? And most of your family is in Slytherin. And now we are back to our last topic, aren’t we?”

Sirius nodded again.
Harry could clearly see him thinking this through in his mind.

“And I have another inquiry about that. Were you truly pranking them, or was it bullying?”

“We don’t bully others!” James protested.

Harry looked at him flatly.
“Do you know the difference between bullying and pranking? If it truly is a prank, it won’t leave any lasting effects on the pranked and they usually laugh at the prank as well. Does that fit what you did?”

James shrunk back into his seat.

“As I thought,” he said and sighed afterwards.

He looked over them again.
Sirius was lost in his thoughts, James looked struck and Peter was trembling in fear.

“Here’s what we will do for the rest of your detention. We will go over the pranks you played recently and the ones you were planning. I won’t forbid you from playing pranks. I just want you to do it in a way that brings joy, not suffering. We will write down a list of people where your pranks have become bullying and you WILL apologize to them. Afterwards, I will explain to you why exactly I don’t accept lateness to my classes from now on.”

Afterwards, they talked about pranks for roughly three hours, before he explained that he doesn’t want to see any of his students dying, because they didn’t take the lessons seriously enough.

While he said that, he saw the face of Colin Creevy in front of him.
He was such a happy boy.
He loved learning from Harry in the DA.
But he was not prepared for the horrors that waited at the battle of Hogwarts.
His unseeing eyes will always be branded into his consciousness.
It felt like Harry had failed Colin.
Never again, he swore to himself back then.

—

A soft knock echoed from the door to Harry’s office, before it opened and Narcissa walked inside.

He looked up from his book and smiled at her in a friendly manner.

“Take a seat, Ms. Black.”

She sat down and Harry closed the book.

“What will you have me do, sir?” she asked.

He smiled gently at her.
“Today, we will have a little talk. Depending on the outcome of that, my plan for your detention tomorrow might change.”

“A talk?” she echoed.

Harry nodded.
“I don’t think much of mindlessly writing down sentences. It is dull and boring for all involved. No, I want to encourage my students to think. Whether to think about their mistakes and how to do better, or just generally think about the world around them,” he explained.

She hesitantly nodded in understanding.

“Now, you said on monday that you wanted to look out for Mr. Lupin, when I asked him to stay, based on the rumors about your last DADA professor, me being an unknown variable and your worry about him, is that correct?” he inquired.

“It is,” she slowly replied.

“Then let us begin with working through the issue with your former DADA professor and me. Tell me your thoughts. And no need for flattery here, I want your honest opinion,” he said and sipped on his coffee.

She thought for a moment.
“I heard from the older students that he sometimes asked girls in the upper years to stay behind after class. The rumors said that he put a love potion in their drinks and made advances towards them,” she timidly said.

Harry nodded in understanding.
“And you feared that I might do the same?” he gently asked.

She nodded shyly.

“No need to worry about that. Can you tell me that Professors name?” he asked.

“Professor Slighter. Why?” she asked curiously.

“I will look into the man. Probably send the DMLE after him,” he casually replied.

“You would do that?”

“This is a school. And you are a student. You should feel safe and protected. You can’t, if a Professor is a danger to you in any way,” he answered.

And it reminded him of some rumors that circulated about Lockhart in his second year.
That reminded him, he will need to do something about that idiot as well.

“Now, let us continue with the next topic. You worried about Mr. Lupin specifically. Can you tell me why?”

His answer was a furious blush from the girl in front of him.
“He is always so quiet and timid…” she said as she looked down at her lap.

Harry chuckled slightly.
“A Slytherin fancying a Gryffindor. How intriguing.”

Her blush only widened.
“You can’t tell anyone.”

“Because of your parents?” he asked gently.
“I heard from Arcturus that he keeps out of affairs in the family for the most part, so it couldn’t be because of the disapproval of Lord Black.”

She gulped.
“I heard my parents talking about marriage contracts for me and my sisters.”

Harry leaned back in his seat.
He knew that Andromeda managed to escape and marry on her own.
But Narcissa and Bellatrix both married pureblood men from dark families.

Maybe that could be his first step to help them from the fate they suffered in his timeline.

He hummed in thought, before looking at her.
“I can’t promise it’ll work, but I can talk to Lord Black. See what I can do.”

Her head whipped up.
“You would do that?” she asked with hope in her eyes.

Harry looked in her eyes and conveyed his honesty as much as possible in his next statement.
“I don’t like marriage contracts. I can accept them if the people they are about were involved, but that rarely is the case.”

She sagged a bit in relief.

“Now, about your detention tomorrow. Have you had lessons in Occlumency before?” he asked with a smirk.

He wasn’t an expert, but he learned a lot over the years.
And this could be his chance to teach one of the best occlumens from his timeline.