Chapter Text
Harry smiled for the first time since the battle of Hogwarts had started. Somehow, everything seemed like it was going to be okay. She turned to Dumbledore, and said, “No, I need to go back. I need to save everyone I possibly can.” Dumbledore looked at her, with that familiar twinkle in his eye, and then he laughed. A full-chested, belly-laugh, more emotion than she’d ever seen from the headmaster. Was… was he laughing at her for her more femme appearance?
Sure, it was pretty new for her. She had only realized her dysphoria when Hermione had finally made an extradimensional space for the horcrux in a bag. She’d been puzzled by the lingering discomfort, and asked about it. Luckily Hermione had been knowledgeable about LGBT+ issues, and given her enough reading material to find herself in the pages. A name for the pain she had always felt, but couldn’t express. She’d decided to put the transition off til after the war, so as not to affect morale of their side, but let her hair grow and added a thing or two to her wardrobe. Still, she thought it was odd for Dumbledore of all people to make fun of her.
She realized after a moment that it sounded more joyful than mean. “Oh my dear… my dear…” Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder. He’d never called her dear without saying ‘dear boy’ before. “I have a feeling you will do just that.” He gave her a pat. She could somehow feel it… He not only knew, but recognized and supported her. Of course he did. “Now, I believe you should catch your train.” She nodded, and did just that. She stepped away, giving one last look of pity and resentment to the crippled soul of Voldemort, and went into the train car.
Everything went white, and she felt as if she were floating, before crashing back down into the darkness of reality. It was dark, and she was in pain. Good. Well, not good, just expected. It wasn’t as if one lifelessly hit the floor of the Forbidden Forest lightly. She tried to move, but couldn’t. Uh oh, this was bad. Was she paralyzed? She couldn’t hear the sounds of the forest, or the murmuring of Voldemort’s lackeys, had she been deafened? She started to panic, her mind was racing-
BANG BANG BANG! “Get up boy! Time to make breakfast!” Realization dawned on her. She wasn’t paralyzed, she was afraid, as she had been many times in her youth at the Dursleys’. She conjured up memories of her friends, her family, her new identity, the things she used to summon her patronus, and let their power fill her body, slowly unwinding all the knots in her strained muscles. When that was done, she could finally open her eyes, and while she still saw very little in the darkness of the cupboard, she did see a silvery mist hovering in front of her. An incorporeal patronus?
It was then that it really hit her. She hadn’t gone back to the present, to save everyone she could at the Battle. She’d gone back in time to save everyone she possibly could, from the entire war, and even before. Her aunt banged on the cupboard again, but she giggled a little to herself. She could start her transition earlier too!
*Well, better get started!* She thought to herself. *But first, I have to get out of here.*
She got out of the cupboard and just… walked out the front door. Everyone was in the kitchen, and while she heard shouting, she was pretty sure she would be fine. She held her hand out over the road and channeled as much magic as she could manage into it. She tried to think of her hand as a wand. Luckily, the Knight bus didn’t require an actual spell, and so it popped into existence with a BANG!
That coincided with the Dursleys’ door slamming open behind her. She had no time to plan, but that didn’t matter, really. Stan Shunpike stepped out and saw a tiny child holding a hand out while a furious Vernon chased her. She simply shouted, “Help me, please!” and he did. He shouted at the driver to go, and he did, as Stan held Harry to keep her from flying off in the chaotic bus.
*~*~*
Stan asked her what happened and she thought for a second, before settling on something. “I need to go to Diagon. They got really mad at me. Before she… died… my mum told me to go to Diagon if something went wrong. Can you take me there?” Not exactly the truth, or even close to a full story, but if she could go without being ‘Harry Potter the Boy Who Lived’ in this timeline she would take it. This was the only thing she could think of without showing her scar or otherwise outing herself, and going to the Ministry of Magic would probably just land her in the magical equivalent of Social Services. Neither of those sounded good, so she opted for a little white lie, even if it wasn’t the strongest. She wished she could go to a friend’s house, but she reminded herself she didn’t have any friends when she was this young. At least the tears from that thought helped sell her story.
Luckily, Stan seemed sympathetic, and did as she asked. He would probably make a report with the Ministry later, but she intended to look very different as soon as possible, so hopefully that wouldn’t be a problem. She ignored his pointed looks and sat quietly as the bus hurried along. It didn’t take all that long for the bus to arrive, but Harry was sure to spend those few minutes coming up with her story. She couldn’t risk getting caught in the Leaky Cauldron, and she would need to at least make it through the tavern to get to the Alley beyond. Fortunately, if her summoning of the Knight Bus was any indication, she wouldn’t need an adult to open the gateway at least. She just hoped no one would recognize her.
In absence of any other plan, she walked quickly, and with purpose. Perhaps whatever had sent her back in time was watching her still, as no one questioned the child walking straight through the pub into the back courtyard, where she entered the alley. She supposed it was mid-morning, so not exactly a strange time to go to Diagon. Luckily her scar was covered by rather long hair, as were her neck and shoulders. She must have woken up after Petunia’s awful, traumatic haircut that had been one of her first moments of dysphoria. A smile spread across her face. She would never have to see the Dursleys again. The thought had her skipping down the alley towards Gringotts.