A/N: To my longtime readers, please enjoy the story. It's technically complete, which you will understand what I mean when you read it.

Warning: Mild slash

THE TIME TRAVELER

2001

I am a time traveler.

Which is, if you don't know, not really as exciting as you think it ought be. I am bound by certain conditions. I cannot travel back into the past or travel forward into the future beyond what I have already lived. Even if I know the exact time and location of where I want to be, I cannot just go.

When you want to change the future that you know, to save the ones you love and to make the world a better place, then that sort of limitation becomes quite unfortunate. Because what if you had to go back beyond your own life to cause a great enough effect to make a difference in the present?

I can't, even being a time traveler.

But, maybe a sequence of small things will rectify the wrongs. Or, maybe I'll just make everything that much worse. Yet, how can I not try when I have the power to?

Even if I fail, for the chance of success, I must try. I must go back, to the past, to change what I know will happen, if only to see if it can be different.

I close my eyes and I think about the variables of time, of how it fluxes and how it flows, of how I have learned that even a tiny, inconsequential decision can have momentous meaning, and that what I am doing now goes against everything that I have been sworn to uphold as a time traveler.

Because, I'm not suppose to change anything.

1991

"Hmmm," said the Sorting Hat, "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes—- and a thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?"

This time, Harry remained silent. He didn't say, not Slytherin. Not Slytherin.

"You could be great, you know," said the Sorting Hat. "It's all here in your head. And Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that. So it shall be, SLYTHERIN!"

Harry took off the Sorting Hat and placed him gently down, looking up at the Great Hall, full of the faces of his friends and of his foes who were nearly all gone in the world he knew. He wanted them all to be alive again. He turned behind him, to where he saw Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and… Professor Snape.

Headmaster Dumbledore looked contemplative; Professor McGonagall looked surprised; Professor Snape looked aghast, if the widening of his eyes and the flare of his nostrils were indicators of that. Harry had never seen Professor Snape look that way before, so he was only taking a gander. He turned back to the Great Hall, to where Ron and Hermione and Neville were sitting, and he knew that this time that Ron wasn't going to be his best mate. But maybe, just maybe he'd still have Hermione and Neville.

Harry took a deep breath and walked to the Slytherin table, straight to the side of where Draco Malfoy was already sitting with Crabbe and Goyle. He looked down at Draco and he knew that despite all the troubles between them in the history he'd lived, that Draco was a better person than he'd suspected. And he'd been too late to be there for Draco, to repay his debt to the son of the witch who had saved his life, at the cost of her family, hoping to defeat Voldemort. This time would be different.

"Malfoy," he said, not sure how Draco would respond to him after his rejection of his offer of friendship on the Hogwarts Express. But he knew that his way in with Slytherin was through Draco. And, for all his prejudices, he was a loyal friend to have. "Mind if I sit here?"

Draco raised one eyebrow, much like his father, Lucius. "Potter," he acknowledged, before he narrowed his eyes at Crabbe, who obligingly scooted out of the way. "Welcome to Slytherin."

2001

The problem with time traveling is that he could never stay very long in any time period, except his own present. If he stayed too long, he'd be lost in time. But he'd never jumped back after doing something as drastic as doing something different.

By the Wizarding Laws of Temporal Traveling, a time traveler is only suppose to observe the past, never to act in any manner that varied in anyway from what he had already done in his life. It's a privilege to be able to re-experience the past from a more mature perspective. When a wizard is found to have the temporal gift, they are bound by an Unbreakable Vow to an Unspeakable to never, ever change the past in hopes of changing the present and creating a new future.

But, Harry is no longer bound by that vow because his Unspeakable is dead, for the vow is rendered obsolete when either party dies. And, with the state of the Wizarding World, the utter chaos surrounding those who are left in the aftermath of the disastrous Third World War, there's no one left who knows that Harry Potter has the gift of time.

Harry clutches his chest, where his heart is beating a little too rapidly for his comfort. He stayed a little too long in 1991. It was almost a quarter of an hour. He has never stayed beyond a handful of minutes before, and every effort had led to magical exhaustion. He takes deep breaths, hoping to calm his panicky bodily state. It works, and as his heart settles into a more regular rhythm, he pours through his memories, searching for the new life he has made by choosing Slytherin over Gryffindor this time.

He smiles when he realizes that Draco is alive! And Hermione! As are Lucius and Narcissa, and Severus Snape! So many people are alive in this timeline, but his smile falters when he realizes that there are many who not alive. Like Ron, Professor McGonagall, Neville, and… Dumbledore. There was still a war and he chose to side with Voldemort.

Harry feels utterly sick to his stomach when suddenly he feels a warm body press against his back and realizes that he's not alone, that he's lying in bed with someone. Harry turns around slowly, and he blinks a few times rapidly to focus his poor vision on the blond, pale face of Draco Malfoy. He and Draco are more than housemates, more than good friends… they are lovers.

He chose this life because of Draco.

"Harry," says Draco softly, smiling at him with such warmth and love. "Good morning."

"Morning," croaks Harry, his voice rough with uncertainty at the situation. He is flying through his memories, extracting as much of what has happened as he can. He knows that he loves Draco deeply here, that Draco is the most important person to him, that he would do anything for Draco. It's a powerful, all-encompassing feeling; and despite his less than ideal choice, he's content here. "Sorry I feel a bit off at the moment."

"Didn't sleep well?" says Draco, rubbing his hand along the small of Harry's back in a gentle, comforting manner. "The nightmares again?"

"Yeah," says Harry because he remembers that he does have nightmares here, just as he had before, though they are different here. These nightmares are of losing Draco, of losing his friends here, of not playing his part well enough to convince Voldemort of his loyalty. Because, even with his decision to side with Voldemort, he isn't a true Death Eater. Neither is Draco.

They are caught between a rock and a hard place, and do what they must to survive.

"I love you," says Draco, kissing him on the forehead.

His lips are soft, soothing in the face of the life Harry is unraveling in his head. He's not killed anyone by his wand for Voldemort, but he has done enough despicable things to ruin the lives of witches and wizards he know to be good. He's not as inherently good as he thought he'd always be.

Harry buries his head into Draco's scattered chest hair. He feels better, listening to the steady drumming of his lover's heart. He might not to be righteously good, but he's not inherently evil. For better or worse, he has saved a lot more people here than he was able to in his timeline, when he was being so good.

So then, maybe he's wrong about having to do things just the way he thought was right. There's a lot of ways to change the present, and maybe this present isn't quite what he had envisioned, but it's not entirely without its merits. He has a lover, a family in the Malfoys (who fiercely love to the point they'd protect him against Voldemort), and a good, close-knit group of friends in Hermione, Cedric, and Luna.

His life is pretty good.

"Don't forget you're meeting Severus this morning," says Draco as he runs his hand in a caressing manner before he gets out of bed. "I've got to run to the Ministry for another round of politicking."

And, in this timeline, the Wizarding World is functioning and functioning well, which was more than he could say about his.

Harry watches Draco disappear into the bathroom and when Draco reemerges in a sharp-looking set of formal robes, he's still lazing around in the bed. The color is a subtle gray shimmer. Draco looks impeccable and very handsome. Harry whistles low in appreciation, something he realizes that he does here.

Draco grins. "None of that," he says. "I don't have time for your antics." Yet Draco comes over to his side and lowers himself down to give Harry a deep, lingering kiss. "Don't procrastinate. You know he hates it when you're late."

Harry nods and Draco pops out of their room when he apparates to the Ministry. Harry allows himself a few more moments of physical indolence before he reluctantly forces himself to leave the comfort of his bed. He wandlessly performs his morning ablutions and accios his robes. He knows he's meeting Snape at 10 at Hogwarts, where Snape's the Headmaster.

He walks over to the fireplace, where he grabs a handful of the glittery, silver powder to floo directly to the Headmaster's Office. Harry arrives slightly disoriented, never really liking this particular method of travel, and still not fully recovered from his trip to the past. Harry shakes off any lingering traces of the floo powder and looks around the office, which is similar yet different from when it was Dumbledore's.

"Harry," says Snape, surprising Harry by the use of his given name rather than his surname. "I'm glad that you could meet with me."

Harry knows Snape is a petty, somewhat vicious man, but he has his code of morals that engenders grudging respect. But Snape has never been pleasant to him, not even when they were on the same side of the War. So he's astonished at how amicable Snape sounds here, and that he would use the word glad in respect to him.

"Of course," says Harry because as he ruminates through his memories, he begins to understand why Snape has been so congenial. Snape is his mentor, and the person he trusts most in the world, even more than Draco. "I always have time for you."

Snape smiles and his teeth are the same yellow and not particularly nice to look at, though Harry finds that he likes the smile. It changes Snape's normally dour expression and Harry feels Snape's regard for him. "You've been rather busy of late."

Harry nods. He has been quite occupied in his role as a member of the Inner Circle. He has to fight to keep from cringing as he thinks about what he has done to secure this tenuous present. The more and more he learns of this timeline, the less and less sure he is of the choice to try and change his timeline.

Maybe what happens can't be undone. The future of devastation and disaster is written on the wall.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you here," says Snape, rising from his chair and walking around to where Harry is standing. Snape motions for Harry to come closer and he does until they are so close that they are nearly touching. "The time has come," says Snape in a soft voice, "for you to do what you were always meant to do."

Harry narrows his eyes, frantically pulling the memories of his prior interactions with Snape, trying to piece together what Snape means. There's so much to learn about when there's a lifetime he hasn't lived. Snape has always had an agenda and that agenda has never been Voldemort's, nor has been Dumbledore's. But if there's any agenda that he's aligned to, it's not the Dark's. Snape means to stand by his side when Harry betrays Voldemort.

Snape lowers his head in such a way that his hair falls all over his face. "Draco will choose you," he whispers. "So will Lucius and Narcissa."

And so would Hermione, Cedric, and Luna. As well as a large number in Slytherin, especially the ones who had been in his year. The only one who might not join him is Blaise Zabini, mainly because Zabini cared little in the dealings of either the Light or Dark. Before Harry can say anything, he grimaces and grabs his arm where the mark is. The pain is always excruciating and not something he will ever get used to. Snape also winces, though because of Harry's connection to Voldemort, the pain is much deeper for him.

"He's calling us," says Harry.

Snape nods and motions to the fireplace. They both walk there together and Snape throws the floo powder first, shouting, "12 Grimmauld Place!"

Harry reaches down for a fistful of powder, but he hesitates before throwing it. Why is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix now the headquarters for Voldemort? Because this is how he first proved himself to Voldemort, by gifting Grimmauld Place to Bellatrix Lestrange after Sirius' death. Harry steps into the fireplace and throws the floo powder down, closing his eyes as the magical flames surround him and transport him to the ancestral house of the Blacks.

The portrait of Walburga Black is much as Harry remembers it, though she is not screaming at him that he is a filth and scum half-breed who is befouling the house of her father. She stares at him with quite a haughty expression and says, "Potter, they are waiting for you upstairs."

Harry walks slower than he normally does up the stairs, filled with more dread than usual because he can't retrieve the memories of a life he didn't live fast enough. There's so much to know, especially when he went back a decade in time. He can't review the information fast enough. There's so much of this life to separate from his life. And if there's one place not to fuck up, it's in front of Voldemort.

He hestitates at the last step, but he grits his teeth and moves forward.. Even if he wanted to go back to the past, he's not sure he can. He's never traveled into the past twice in a day, much less twice in a few hours. Being where you shouldn't be, is exhausting mentally and physically as well as magically.

Harry takes a deep breath to steady himself and he blanks his mind as he's never been quite as good at Occlumency as he'd like, not ever as good as Snape, but sufficient enough for Voldemort's probes as long as he keeps his thoughts clear.

"My favorite nephew," says Bellatrix as she strolls over to him, looking far lovelier than Harry ever could picture her. She has the bloom of good health on her face and her smile is surprisingly sincere. Apparently, he is beloved by two of the Black sisters. What of Andromeda? Harry doesn't allow himself to think of Tonks' mother. If he does, he'll tear up. And he can't, not here, not now.

"Harry," says Voldemort, his voice rich without the rasp he'd had before.

Harry looks up and sees a Voldemort who looks distinguished and handsome, not at all like the reptilian humanoid appearance in his timeline. His eyes are still red, though so dark they appear nearly black. He doesn't look at all mad like he had. He looks quite all right.

"My loyal servant," says Voldemort, raising his hand and indicating for Harry to come closer. "Severus just informed me that you were at Hogwarts."

Harry flicks his eyes over to Snape, who has a recognizable sneer on his face. "Potter was simply dropping off some ingredients that Draco had procured for me on his last trip abroad."

So Voldemort had no idea how close his relationship with Snape was, Harry surmised, though he wasn't clear as to the reasoning. Harry returned his gaze to Voldemort's direction, but kept his eyes slightly lowered in deference. "My Lord," says Harry.

Bellatrix claps her hands and her shrill laughter is nowhere near the gleeful cackling of before. Still, her eyes widen in a way that isn't quite right. "Tell him, my Lord," she says. "Tell him about what you're going to do with him!"

Harry tenses instinctively throughout his body, and he notices that Snape also has subtle changes in his posture. Hopefully, no one sees their apprehension. That would be rather suspicious and if they want to do anything soon, they must keep above reproach.

"Leave us," says Voldemort, looking pointedly at both Bellatrix and Snape.

Bellatrix sashays from the room, while Snape follows behind her in far more controlled manner. Harry watches them leave before he turns back to Voldemort and lifts his eyes to meet Voldemort's own. He knows that he won't be reprimanded this time for his insolence. Voldemort trusts him.

"I believe it is time to make use of the power that I know not," says Voldemort.

Harry shivers inside a little to hear Voldemort speak those words. He remembers how Sybil Trelawney's first prophecy doomed his existence before he was even born. She had told Dumbledore in a room over at Hog's Head Inn: "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"

Everything that had happened to him in his timeline had been because Voldemort had chosen to believe the prophecy and had sought to destroy the one who was prophesied to defeat him. Here Voldemort had chosen the same path at first, only to decide he was worth having as an ally, especially after he had been sorted into Slytherin. If he had been in any other house, then he wouldn't be standing like this in front of Voldemort.

"Harry," hisses Voldemort, switching to the tongue they both share, "there is a place I wish you to travel back to and I want you to make a change to the events as we know them."

Harry tenses inside when he hears the word change, because he's already made a change in his timeline to create this timeline, and he's beginning to believe that the Unbreakable Vow he had made should never have been broken. Because this timeline is not better, only different. He wanted to make a difference, but this isn't what he wanted, even if it does have a veneer of what he hoped for. He is loved here; there is peace; but it's not the world he imagined.

He knows Snape is waiting outside, waiting for him to make his move, though he's not sure of what move he's suppose to make. Not all the memories are coming back, just enough that he knows enough not to give himself away. Draco, Lucius, Narcissa, his best mates, and his housemates are ready to choose him and die. And yet, he doesn't even know what he's fighting for here.

Harry keeps his eyes lowered, knowing that looking at Voldemort's gaze would be dangerous with all the thoughts that are so prominent in his mind. He cannot allow Voldemort to know what he is thinking, but he has to know what Voldemort is thinking. Where is he to go and what is he to change?

"I am yours to command," hisses Harry in response.

"Are you?" Voldemort reaches and cups Harry's chin, lifting his face so that their eyes can meet.

Harry concentrates on the crimson of Voldemort's eyes, how ageless he appears when he is in reality so much older, and how he can feel the magnetic power in that momentary touch. He is nothing compared to Voldemort, not this Voldemort.

"This," whispers Voldemort, narrowing his eyes to the slits Harry remembers from his past, "this is not right. You are not the same." Voldemort lowers his hand and holds it firmly over Harry's throat. "My Harry would have never lower his eyes to me." Voldemort digs his fingers into the flesh of Harry's neck, but not enough to cause pain, just discomfort. "Severus is a fool. I know you better than anyone alive." Voldemort raises his other hand and presses his finger into the lightning scar. "I do not need Legilimency to see into your mind. You are a part of me. I am a part of you."

Yes, because Harry is his horcrux.

"Though you are not my Harry." Voldemort squeezes his hand tighter, making it difficult for Harry to breath. "I must thank you." Voldmort relaxes his grip, though the hold still is uncomfortable at best. "Now I know the truth of the power that I know not." Voldemort rubs the edges of his nails into the soft skin of Harry's neck. "Not only can you observe the past, but you can also change the course of the future."

He had majorly fucked up, thinking he could outwit this Voldemort just because he had been able to do the same to his Voldemort. Where was the power hungry and so angry Voldemort he knew? This Voldemort was calculating and oh so clever. He was truly terrifying.

"You're right," rasps Harry. "But I can't change this future." Because, thankfully his Unspeakable is alive here…

"Because of Hermione Granger." Voldemort releases him from his hold, causing Harry to stumble away, gasping for air. "That's easily remedied." Voldemort turns away from him and swishes his wand, using wordless magic to open the doors where Bellatrix is waiting dutifully outside.

"My Lord?" say Bellatrix, moving toward them with a sinuous grace. "May I do anything for you?"

Voldemort smiles a little and it's a cruel smile. "You may indeed. The muggleborn has outlived her usefulness." Harry feels so helpless as Bellatrix claps her hands together in glee. "And Bellatrix?"

"Yes, my Lord?" Bellatrix stops clapping and lowers her hands.

"Do make it painful," says Voldemort, sliding his eyes from her back to Harry. "We need to punish those who keep secrets from us."

Bellatrix leans forward and sneers, "Auntie needs to teach you a very important lesson." Bellatrix places her hand on Harry's cheek, patting it hard enough to cause pain. "Don't worry," she croons, "soon that mudblood won't feel anything anymore."

This time when Bellatrix leaves, she apparates with a large crack that is deafening to Harry's ears. He wants to leave, to warn Hermione, but he can't. He can feel Voldemort's magic surrounding him, keeping him prone, unable to move, unable to defy him. This Voldemort is much more powerful than his Voldemort. He's nothing in comparison, and certainly, he's not his match.

"You're not my match," echoes Voldemort. "The other Harry might have been, but he's gone now." Harry tenses as Voldemort raises his hand again to touch his cheek with a gentleness that is distressing. "Do you know what I want you to change?" Harry doesn't move, afraid of what might happen if he does. "I've already sent Bellatrix do to the deed, but if you kill her first... then she'll never feel the torment of Bellatrix's wand. That's a much preferable option, isn't it?" Harry shivers despite his attempt to stay motionless. "Go back to just after she becomes your Unspeakable and quietly end her life, then the Harry I know will be free to serve me faithfully."

Maybe fate is fate, no matter what.

Still, even if it is, then he will have his fate. Harry squeezes his eyes shut, knowing that what he's going to ask of his magic is nearly impossible, but he's the one who fucked with the timeline and he's the one who has to right the wrong. He struggles against the confines of Voldemort's magic, but it's easier to elude what's holding him here when he's leaving this time behind.

To go back to the past, to stop himself from messing up in time.

1991

"You again," said the Sorting Hat. "You're courageous and too reckless for your own good, just like a Gryffindor. Cunning enough to escape an almost impossible situation, quite Slytherin of you."

"Not Slytherin," said Harry quickly, not wanting to relive the nightmare he had just lived.

"Not Slytherin," repeated the Sorting Hat. "I've heard that before from you and I listened to your wishes then. Last time you didn't say anything and I put you in Slytherin where I thought you would be great, but I see that was a mistake."

Harry was weirded out by the fact that the Sorting Hat was aware of his repeat visits, from before and now. He had never known anyone who knew he was different when he had gone back in time. That Voldemort had certainly known he wasn't his Harry when he had returned to the present that wasn't his own, but understandable given their connection.

"Of course, I know," huffed the Sorting Hat. "I'm on your head and in your mind. I knew the first time too, but didn't say anything because I thought you were wise enough to let me do what I thought was best. I see that I was wrong, but I can't always be right. Now as I was saying before you interrupted me. You have a thirst to prove yourself and not a bad mind, but not quite cut out for Ravenclaw. I understand you better this time. You've got plenty of courage, but first and foremost you are driven by a sense of honor and loyalty. You want Gryffindor again because that's the world you know, but every choice affects a change. There is no going back, Harry! HUFFLEPUFF!"

A/N: Shall I continue on with this (writing another part about the consequence of the change)? And if so, what would you like to see? Thanks for reading. (Life's been very difficult the last year, but thanks for supporting me with your feedback).

Released on May 12, 2015