Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. All characters and plots within were created and are owned by J.K. Rowling. I am simply borrowing them for fun and seek no monetary gain from this. Any original characters or plots are mine.

Summary: Harry Potter sacrificed everything for the world and it all amounted to nothing. Now in his final moments will Destiny take pity on an old man without hope? Fate had her turn. Now it's time for Destiny to show everyone how it's done right. Will you try again Harry Potter? Will you save them all or let history repeat itself?

Author's Note: I hope you all enjoy this story. I've always wanted to do a time travel story and I hope I am making it believable. Well as believable as a story filled with magic and time travel can be. This is an unbeta'd story at the moment. If anyone feels like they would like to take a stab at being a beta please PM me. Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 1: Going Back

*UPDATED: 12/21/2015*

July 31st2080

10:45pm

It was fitting, he thought, that he would meet his end in the same cold dreary shack from which his adventure first began. The same desolate shack, where Hagrid had found him and subsequently introduced him to the world he had grown to both love and hate with equal measure. So many years had passed since that day. Since he was that small young boy completely clueless to the adventures that awaited him. He shivered slightly from the cold as he laughed at the irony of it.

He'd sought shelter here months back thinking only that it was the most secluded location he could recall, but since then he couldn't help but wonder if there had been more to it than that. Perhaps the universe wanted a semblance of symmetry or closure. The thought amused him.

He shifted slightly trying to find a more comfortable position even though he knew it was useless. It had occurred to him at one point that the wooden floor might actually have been a better choice, but by then he'd already been lying there for hours, listening to the storm outside as it rattled the walls of the shack, moving would serve no purpose. His wrinkled hands clutched his thin blanket tightly, as he patiently awaited the inevitable.

The only source of light in the room was the single candle he'd lit earlier that evening. A small gesture of celebration that he had considered forgoing, but had ultimately decided was worth making.

After all, how many times did one get to see their 100th birthday?

It would surprise most people that once he would have seen this birthday as just one of many. In fact, if events had played out differently, he might have just chuckled with amusement as he realized he'd just entered the realm of the middle aged.

Wizards were a very long lived race after all…normally.

Unfortunately, for him, his youth and vitality had been stolen from him. Taken from him by a malicious curse cast by the most powerful dark wizard in living memory.

A dark wizard that he had faced many times over the years. Each of their battles ending in the death of his adversary, only to watch as his spirit refused to pass on despite his mortal body's death.

He was lucky a few times; the gaps between their meetings sometimes lasted years, but even then he always knew it was just a matter of time until the self-proclaimed "Dark Lord" would rise again and seek him out once more.

This night his thoughts drifted, as they often had recently, to the friends he hoped would be waiting for him when he finally made it to the other side. It had been so long since he had last seen any of them…decades in fact. He'd been alone for quite some time. Some would say it was through choice, that over the years he had become a master at keeping people at a distance; never letting them close…and they would be right to say such.

He had learned through experience that friendship was a luxury other people had. People who didn't have a mad man haunting them, targeting the people they loved.

Any friends he made were always the first to die when Voldemort would make a re-appearance.

The first time it had happened, he had been furious. He had fought harder and fiercer than he ever had before.

The second time – he blamed himself for not seeing it coming. It had happened before after all. So again he had taken this pain and turned it against the one who had wronged him with devastating effect.

The third time….the third time he had simply knelt at their graves and promised "never again".

He made what he had thought the best decision he could have made back then. No more friends, no more loved ones.

The next time Voldemort had risen he had found himself without ammunition to use against his foe.

For years the fights had grown shorter and shorter with each confrontation. The Leader of the Light Growing stronger and stronger over time, his magic and experience increasing as the years passed. This continued until his 60th year when his enemy finally decided to change the rules.

Accepting that his opponent had grown too strong to defeat in a direct fight, Voldemort had started attacking from the shadows; Cursed objects, Poisons, Waves of inferi. Anything that had a chance of weakening his prey was used.

In the end it wasn't a grand fight that would determine the victor, but a snake in the grass, unseen, unexpected, but undeniably deadly.

An insidious curse, left as a trap on the one object the light wizard never thought to check. An angle of attack that he had stopped preparing for. The one avenue he had thought himself protected from.

The dark lord had once again found a way to use his loved ones against him.

Voldemort cursed his mother's gravestone, infected it with dark magic, the likes of which no one had ever seen or heard of. The curse was triggered the moment he laid his hand on it, an act he'd performed every year, without fail for over 40 years, on the anniversary of his parent's death.

It was a vile curse, latching on to his very soul and corroding his magical core. It did not instantly kill, no it was much more subtle than that. His core pushed back against the invading energy, slowing its progress, but was never able to completely expel it. It would take a decade for his powers to diminish to the point of the curse becoming a true handicap. Battles that had once been over in moments started to take more effort. Each battle, each confrontation taking more time than the last. Until eventually, for the first time in more than 35 years he had been forced to flee from his enemy.

This would happen again during their next duel…and again in the one after that…In the end he would always return, better prepared, and claim victory, but it was always a close thing, barely surviving through sheer skill as the slow decline of his powers started to truly take their toll.

A wizard's vitality is directly linked to their magic. The stronger the mage the longer their lifespan.

For Harry James Potter, one of the strongest wizards in recorded history, his 100th birthday should have been no more significant a birthday than his 50th. His lifespan easily reaching to 2 or even 3 times that…

The damage to his magical core had changed his fate. Nothing he tried had been able to counter the dark and unfamiliar magic that had taken up root in him. It was only a matter of time until his core hit the point of no return. A point where it would no longer be able to generate more magic than it was losing.

A point that had already passed for the old man now quietly waiting for the end to come.

Harry Potter did not fear death. In fact he welcomed it now. He wanted the peace it would bring. A final escape from the pains that had haunted him for years.

As the former Boy-Who-Lived felt the last dredges of his power leaving his body – slipping away like water down a drain, time seemed to stop for a moment as the spiritual wound finally sapped him completely.

The words of his old mentor traveled through time in that moment to whisper in his ear, 'To the well-organized mind, death is simply the next great adventure'.

There was a time in his life where he would have resented and dismissed any advice coming from Albus Dumbledore, the former headmaster of Hogwarts. The man's manipulations and agenda had simply cost Harry too much for there to be any kind of forgiveness or peace between them.

And yet despite everything, despite every misfortune that Harry had suffered that could be traced back to one of Dumbledore's manipulations, despite the lies and the scheming, and all the fallout that had come about because of Albus Dumbledore. Harry found himself actually looking forward to seeing his old headmaster again.

If only to relish the chance to punch the old codger in the face. He smiled as he imagined how good that would feel.

But more than anything else, he was looking forward to seeing her again.

So many years had passed since he'd lost her. He'd waited so long to see her again; to apologize for everything.

Logically he knew he wasn't to blame for the distance that had grown to exist between them, the guilt for that fell on the shoulders of another, but understanding the truth and accepting it were two very different things.

He could only hope she could find it in her heart to forgive him for not realizing the truth sooner.

It was with those last thoughts that Harry Potter closed his eyes one final time and allowed the world to slip away.

# # #

There was an all-encompassing darkness for a moment, but it was brief and quickly replaced by a blinding light that forced him to shield his eyes and left him seeing spots even after the sudden flare had died down.

It only took a moment for him to recognize where he was.

He was back at the transition point. The Afterlife Train Station as he had taken to calling it.

The same place he had found himself the last time he'd died. Nothing had changed in the eighty plus years that had passed since that night. Not that he really expected it to. He doubted time had any real meaning in the realm of the dead.

Harry took a moment to perform an inventory on himself. The robes he was wearing were certainly not what he had been expecting.

That's odd. Last time I checked I was wearing my nightgown.

It had been quite a long time since he'd last worn his old Hogwarts uniform. It felt as comfortable as he remembered.

Spotting a mirror hanging on a nearby wall. Harry gave himself a once over and sighed in aggravation.

"So am I going to be stuck as a 16 year old for all eternity?" He mused aloud.

"Actually you're 15 to be more precise." A gentle voice clarified for him.

Harry spun around in surprise, frowning as he failed to locate the source of the commentary.

"Look at what has become of our chosen Fortuna." A second voice said.

"Yes such a shame it was. So regrettable." The original voice agreed.

"Hello…Who are you? Where are you?" Harry looked around cautiously.

"Shhh...You're going to scare the young man." The second voice scolded her companion softly.

"Me? What about you?" Came the irritated response.

Harry kept looking around the room trying to locate where the voices were coming from.

"Ummm...not to be rude or anything, but who are you?" He asked again.

"I suppose we might as well get this show on the road as the saying goes." One of the voice's said with a sigh.

"Language has lost so much of its elegance in this age. I can still remember the words Alexander used when he…" the second voice trailed off full of melancholy.

"Oh hush about that. Always going on about him thanking you for everything. You always seem to conveniently forget my contributions whenever the topic comes up."

"Oh don't joke. We both know it was my influence that earned him 'The Great' title."

"Are you kidding me?! I was the one who..."

"Uh excuse me...could someone please tell me what the bloody hell is going on?" Harry interrupted allowing his irritation to finally show in his tone.

"Oh…we should probably..."

"Yes, your right."

Harry was about to speak up again when he was cut off by another flare of light.

When the light faded Harry was taken back a bit by the two figures that had materialized in front of him.

The first thing he noticed about them, since it slammed into him with enough force that he was surprised he was still standing, was their magical presence; the power flowing off them was absolutely incredible.

Much greater than anything he had ever experienced during his many years as a wizard. Later when his mental faculties had returned to him he would be thankful that he hadn't been using his mage sight at the time as the sheer brilliance of their auras would likely have blinded him.

The second thing he noticed was that they were nearly identical; build, complexion, facial features, hair style, it was all the same. The only difference between them he could make out was their hair color.

One had hair as black as midnight; the other, a golden blonde that shined as if it was permanently being lit by sunlight.

They were easily the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen. He would even go as far as to describe their beauty as "other worldly".

Both of the women smirked at him and glanced at each other for a brief moment as they caught his stray thought. Though he didn't notice. He had already moved on to examining what they were wearing.

Are those supposed to be pajamas? He wondered to himself.

"These are not Pajamas!" The one on the left replied offended. "These are Persian silk robes from the 5th century!"

Her twin smiled at him seeing the shock on his face and ignored the other's outburst. "Hello Harry it is nice to finally meet you face to face."

"Umm thank you. I would like to say the same, but I still have no idea what's going on." He replied politely, deciding to err on the side of caution for the time being. Apparently these two could read his mind. He hadn't even felt a whisper against his occlumency barriers.

"My name is Seyella and I am the Goddess of Destiny." The blonde introduced herself as she waved a hand, conjuring two comfortable looking armchairs that both ladies immediately made use of.

Harry gaped silently in disbelief at that.

His reaction seemed to amuse her twin as she giggled slightly before introducing herself. "I am Fortuna. Goddess of Fate."

Harry looked back and forth between the two "goddesses" trying to come up with something to say. Something that hopefully wouldn't result in his soul being scattered across the cosmos.

"Please excuse my ignorance, but I thought fate and destiny were the same thing?" He finally managed.

"Oh no, not at all." Seyella replied. "Please take a seat while I explain." An arm chair appeared behind him as she spoke. He was quick to comply. "Fate can be described as the sequence of significant events that are preordained to occur throughout one's life."

"And Destiny is the ultimate destination or culmination of one's life based on the choices one makes when dealing with the obstacles or gifts Fate provides." Fortuna continued.

"So free will doesn't exist? Our lives are already mapped out?" Harry asked feeling more than a little uncomfortable at the thought.

Seyella smiled comfortingly. "No Harry, not everyone has a predefined destiny. Only the chosen few, those who have been determined to be strong enough to influence the balance. It's not easy for most mortals to comprehend, but let me try to give you an example." She said.

"Let's say one has been given the destiny to "Save the World"." She paused for a moment to see if he was following. "It's up to them to decide how they go about fulfilling that destiny. For instance, they could go into politics and usher in world changing reform. They could defeat a powerful enemy bent on global domination. They could actually become a dark lord or lady themselves and conquer the world, imposing their rule and bringing about what they see as the perfect world order. One could even decide to simply not do any of that and ignore their destiny altogether."

"I don't understand. If someone can ignore a destiny then what's the point of having one?" Harry asked.

"You can ignore a destiny for sure, but those that do so will always find that they are never quite satisfied or fulfilled with their lives. They will always have the sense that something is missing or wrong."

Harry looked over at the other goddess. "What about fate?"

"Fate's path is meant to prepare you for your destiny. The culmination of all the significant events or obstacles that pop up throughout one's life. You get to choose how you'll react to them and the choices you make place you on different paths towards other events and possible choices. All of which are designed to prepare you for your destiny, if you have one." Fortuna smiled as she explained her role.

"So my parents...Sirius…my friends, their deaths were meant…to what? Prepare me for my destiny?" Harry could feel his anger rising even as he struggled to remain calm and collected.

Fortuna however was quick to jump in and clarify. "No Harry. You have to remember that you might have a fated path, but so do others. Those fates interact whenever people interact." She explained.

"You make choices, they make choices, and those around them make choices. All of those paths touch and influence each other. This makes it extremely difficult to predict outcomes. That is how free will comes into effect. Your parents chose their fate. They chose to resist repression and evil. They fought against Voldemort. This conflicted with Voldemort's chosen path, and as a result they became targets. That was a part of your parent's fate and they CHOSE to protect you, it was that expression of free will that resulted in their deaths."

Harry thought about what she was trying to say and pushed his anger away. He would always feel some guilt for his parents deaths, but he had also always known they had chosen to sacrifice their lives for him, he knew that the true blame for their deaths rested on Voldemort's head. It wouldn't be smart to forget that after so long.

"Ok I think I understand all that, but what I don't understand is why you're both here. It can't be normal for the goddesses of Fate and Destiny to sit down and explain their roles to people."

Seyella smiled again. "Harry we've come to offer you a gift. You've been wronged. I wrote your Destiny and Fortuna here decided your Fate, but you were never meant to suffer as much as you did."

Her eyes narrowed in frustration.

"Voldemort has been receiving aid both direct and indirect from the darker realms. That interference threw up obstacles that couldn't be predicted and while trying to help you with those obstacles Fortuna here ended up contributing even more to your suffering."

Fortuna, looking slightly aggrieved, picked it up from there. "As a result we decided to plead your case to The Source."

"The Source?" Harry asked.

"The Source of everything. Our boss as it were." She replied, Harry smiled at the idea of a Goddess referring to anyone as their "boss". "The Source agreed that, since I had interfered in your life beyond allowed limits, it would be acceptable for Seyella to offer you a chance to undo the damage I caused." Fortuna seemed slightly embarrassed to have to admit so much.

"How?" Harry asked suspicion and confusion clear in his voice.

"We have come to offer you a choice." The Goddess of Destiny replied.

"What choice?" Harry asked his eyes narrowing. "I thought I was done."

"Yes that is one of your choices." Seyella acknowledged with a nod. "You can move on from here to your 'next great adventure' and be with your loved ones again. Everyone agrees that you deserve that much." She looked him directly in the eye as she gave him the rest. "The other option is to send you back."

"Why would I go back?" Harry asked indignant. "Haven't I done enough? There's nothing left to defend, nothing left to go back to. Voldemort's last campaign…it destroyed everything." The memories he'd suppressed for so long were threatening to surface.

The desolate landscapes, the burnt skeletal remains of Diagon Alley and Downing Street, the cold chill that now permanently resided over Britain…

"You misunderstand." Fortuna replied once again cutting off his thoughts before they could slip any further. "We are not offering to simply send you back to the moment you died. We are offering you a second chance at the life you should have had in the first place, the chance to go back and relive most of your life. We would send you back to the summer before your fifth year at Hogwarts."

She didn't give him a chance to formulate a reply.

"We offer this because of my failures Harry. I interfered too much. We are normally not allowed to alter the flow of events once they are in motion, but with you I made an exception. I tried to nudge you along, set you on certain paths thinking I could help you, but in the end you suffered greatly because of it and so did others. It has been decided that you deserve a second chance. You would retain all your memories and skills, we would essentially be merging your soul with that of your younger self. We will have to limit your magical core a bit before we send you back though so you might notice some changes on that front. Your younger body wouldn't be able to contain all that power hitting it all at once."

Harry ran his hand through his hair as he tried to come to terms with what he was being offered. The chance to undo all the mistakes he had ever made. No, the chance to PREVENT those mistakes from happening at all. Could he truly move on and meet his friends and family again knowing he had turned his back on such an opportunity?

So many people had gotten hurt…So many families had mourned loved ones. He wasn't the only one that had suffered. Didn't he owe it to them? Didn't he owe…

Harry closed his eyes as he cut off that train of thought. That was his answer. There was no other choice.

"I accept your offer." Harry told them. "But before we do this let me ask…Why that time period specifically? Why couldn't I go back to my...fourth year or perhaps even my first year?"

"We are not all powerful Harry." Seyella replied. "We do have limitations. The rite we will use can only send you back to specific points where the fabric of space and time are at their thinnest. The strain of inserting your soul back into the flow of time at that specific point is...severe, but manageable. The strain of trying to send you elsewhere would be too much for us to contain. Attempting to force it would risk tearing the fabric of reality." Harry could almost detect a shudder in her voice when she thought about the possible consequences that would have. "I'm sorry, but we can't risk that, not even to right the wrongs committed against you."

"Okay how do we get started then?" Harry asked.

"You don't have to do anything, but there is one thing that I would like to say before we start." The Goddess of Destiny replied. "You mustn't tell anyone about who you are or where you came from. The truth of the afterlife MUST remain a secret. If your enemy ever learned of what has been done here, they could use that information to terrible effect." She waited for his nod of acceptance before reaching out to him, her finger extended.

"Good luck," Harry heard her whisper right before she made contact, and then the darkness returned.

# # #

July 30th1995

11:59pm

Number 4 Privet Drive was a small house. Nothing extravagant, nothing exciting, a nice normal house in a cozy little suburb where nothing out of the ordinary ever happened. A fact that the owners of the house: Vernon and Petunia Dursley took great pride in. The only embellishment allowed was Mrs. Dursley's prized rose garden.

The residents of Privet Drive walked by the house every day, never knowing that the plain exterior was a carefully preserved facade meant to hide an incredible secret, one the Dursleys kept under lock and key, sometimes literally.

The source of this great secret was a young teen, whom at that very moment was sleeping fitfully inside the smallest bedroom. Thrashing back and forth on a tattered and stained mattress as Fate and Destiny changed his life forever.

A bright flash of light illuminated him briefly - focusing on the area directly over his heart before it disappeared without a sound.

"Ahhh!" The young man's screamed as he awoke to a burning pain in his chest. Sitting up quickly and taking a few deep breaths, calming as he felt the pain start to dissipate. Looking around disoriented, it took a few moments for his head to clear and for realization to set in.

"I'm back!" The young wizard known as Harry Potter exclaimed.

His excitement was cut short as he heard the heavy foot falls of something large stomping down the hall outside his room.

"BOY!" Vernon Dursley roared through the door. "Shut your mouth! Us decent people are trying to sleep! I'll not have you waking the whole neighborhood with your freakishness!"

"Sorry Uncle Vernon!" Harry called back. He had no real fear of Vernon Dursley anymore, but he needed to be careful to hide that fact. At least for the time being.

"It worked." He sighed quietly keeping his voice down as he listened to the man's retreating footsteps as he walked away.

Despite only having just woken up Harry still felt completely exhausted. Getting a good night's sleep for the first time in what felt like years sounded very appealing.

There would be time in the morning to make plans.

Laying back down and allowing his body to relax, Harry's thoughts drifted to what he would do first.

There would be no wasting any time this go around. He doubted the wizarding world was going to react well to the new Harry Potter.

He fell asleep smiling as he thought about all the changes he was going to make.

# # #

"Iustorum autem animae quae totamque incestat Pallantias inficit custodes operum lucis. Obsecro, abscondissem me forsitan ab eo vela mortalibus oculis transire."

The whispered words echoed through the room as a cloaked figure lowered themselves to kneel before the dark altar they had just finished assembling.

A bowl of blood, surrounded by bones of all shapes and sizes, some clearly human, reflected the light of the candles set throughout the room.

The candle flames flared dangerously as the final words of the ritual were spoken. "Apparuit coram me dominus Abaddon perditionem."

The cloaked figure fell silent and waited patiently for the summons to work. A few moments past before all the candles in the room started extinguishing themselves one by one and as the last flame was snuffed out, the room was plunged into darkness, the temperature in the room dropping sharply; low enough that the mirror set in the wall behind the altar started to frost over.

"Well Riddle it has been some time since you last summoned me." An ominous voice filled the room causing its sole occupant to shiver slightly in response before he pushed back the hood that had been concealing his face.

"I beg your forgiveness my lord." The words seemed to pain the one known as Lord Voldermort even as he cast his eyes to the mirror where a dark outline of…something had appeared, the image mostly obscured by the ice. "I have only recently regained a body and much needed to be done to ensure our…" He trailed off as the temperature in the room dropped even further and he was quick to correct himself. "Your plans were not endangered."

The figure in the mirror was silent for a moment, considering his words.

"Yes, I see the restoration ritual I gave you worked….somewhat." The amusement behind the words plain to hear. "Tell me how did your followers react when they saw your face again after so many years…could they even recognize you?"

Voldemort clenched his fists tightly inside his cloak at the mockery he could hear from the being in front of him, but kept his face devoid of expression.

"It matters not my lord. My magic is stronger than ever. None of them would dare turn away from me."

"Yes that is true, you have always been very capable of inspiring fear in those that serve you. I suppose I should commend you for that at least. Still…I did warn you of the dangers of creating so many did I not?" The dark presence asked expectantly.

"Yes my lord." The man many considered the most powerful dark lord in modern history, bit his tongue as he gave the response expected of him.

"Well I suppose what's done is done." The entity replied sounding almost bored. "Let us move on to more important things. It is fortuitous that you summoned me when you did. I have just felt a shift in the scales. It seems that someone on the other side has finally taken notice of my interference."

"What has happened Lord Abaddon? I…" Voldemort began before being interrupted harshly.

"Silence!" The figure in the mirror roared as a crack appeared in the mirror as if to emphasize it's rage. The voice took on a menacing tone. "Names have power. You are not to speak mine outside of the summoning ritual…Did I not make that clear enough the last time you were so foolish?"

Feeling the malevolence in the air as an almost physical presence Voldemort immediately lowered himself closer to the ground in supplication.

"Please forgive me my lord!" He nearly begged. His fear of the creature he had called forth for a brief moment crushing any trace of his resentment or pride from existence. "It has been so long since we last spoke, it slipped my mind. I promise it will not happen again."

"You are correct Tom. It will not happen again." The now named Abaddon assured the wizard. "If it does…Well I would be most disappointed."

Panic gripped Voldemort as he briefly recalled the last time he had displeased his master. Not even the pain of having his soul ripped from his body by his own curse had equaled what he had felt back then.

"I swear it my lord."

Abaddon took a moment to enjoy the fear he could sense emanating from the mortal in front of him before deciding he had let the man tremble enough.

"I shall grant you leniency this once; consider it a gift for all the souls you have fed to me over the years, but do not test my patience any further."

"Thank you my lord."

"Do not thank me yet Riddle...I said I would grant you leniency...I do not recall saying you would not be punished." The evil called forth chuckled in anticipation as the Dark Lord Voldemort felt his limbs lock in place. "To show how merciful I can be...you're punishment will only last until dawn."

The only thing Tom Riddle AKA Lord Voldemort could think about at that moment was whether or not the privacy wards he had erected would be strong enough to silence what was about to happen.

It would not do for his Death Eaters to hear their master's screams.

# # #

The house was silent when Harry woke up the next morning. There were no sounds coming from the rest of the house.

He sat up and looked around the room in confusion for a moment before the reality of what had happened hit him.

So it wasn't a dream.

He was back. Confused he looked at the clock on his desk and saw that it was already well past 10 in the morning. The Dursley's hadn't woken him up to demand that he prepare breakfast. That confused him for a second until he remembered that by this point in the timeline he had already told them about his "Serial Killer" god-father that could appear out of nowhere and turn them into something unseemly if they treated him poorly.

He chuckled to himself as he recalled how he had conveniently forgotten to mention that said god-father was completely innocent of the charges that had been made against him, but he figured that Sirius wouldn't mind. In fact if Harry knew the man at all he was sure the old marauder would probably see it as just one big prank.

That train of thought derailed a moment later when Harry stopped to think of the implications – Sirius was still alive.

His Godfather and the closest thing he had ever known to a parental figure was still alive. Harry swore to himself at that point that he would make sure he stayed that way this time through.

Deciding to get the day started, Harry got out of bed, gathered some clean clothes and headed to the bathroom to let his body relax under the first hot shower he'd had in what felt like an eternity.

Finished with his morning routine and dressed for the day, he made his way back to his room and took a seat in the middle of the floor.

The first thing Harry decided to do was take care of his mental shields. He could ill afford to have anyone gleaning even surface thoughts off him.

His time was better spent working against Riddle than evading the Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries.

Thankfully over the years Harry had mastered both Occlumency, the art of defending one's mind and Legilimency, its exact opposite, meant for attacking the mind of another.

He started the process by turning his focus inwards. Closing his eyes and blocking out all external stimulus. He was a bit surprised to feel that his shields were completely down, in effect leaving him wide open to any novice legilimens that happened to make eye contact. That would not do at all.

He had hoped that his internal world, being controlled and created by his will would have followed his consciousness back in time, but it seemed there actually was a physical aspect to occlumency after all.

Fascinating as that discovery was he pushed the thought away and reserved it for another time.

Harry sat there just focusing on his breathing as the room he was in faded from his senses. Normally accessing his mindscape was easy to do, only requiring a bit of concentration, but that would only allow him superficial access. If he truly needed to rebuild his defenses from the ground up then he needed complete submersion.

It took a few minutes to calm his thoughts and bring his will to bear properly, but in the end it worked. The scenery around him changed, the darkness from a moment before lifting.

Harry looked around curiously and cringed at what he saw. His memories were in book form as they were in the future, but they were strewn about the small open room he found himself in without any kind of rhyme or reason.

No wonder I always found school to be so difficult. Well that wasn't the only reason but still….

Harry shook his head before he could continue the thought. He had already spent enough time on self-recrimination over the years. He needed to keep his focus on the here and now.

"Well this will have to change." Harry said to himself as he began rebuilding the room. He started by expanding the area and replacing the wooden walls with steel, conjuring up a few dozen bookcases with sliding glass doors and relocated them against the walls. The glass door of each shelf having a mirrored surface.

Once he was done with the foundation he began sorting through his memories and arranging them by subject and date. The same way he'd had them sorted in the future.

Organizing one's mind allowed for nearly total and complete recall. It made studying and retaining information a lot easier.

Once all his memories were sorted, Harry shifted his focus to the defenses, restoring them to what he considered adequate for keeping people out. Not as powerful as they could be, but strong enough for now.

Once his shields were up and working, Harry decided to take a moment and examine his magical core. The goddess had made a point to let him know that they would be limiting his power a bit. The question he needed to answer was: how much?

His mindscape was essentially his own internal world. A place where the laws of time and space didn't really exist unless he chose to allow them to. A realm completely controlled by his own will and imagination, and only limited by the same.

Over the years of mastering occlumency he had managed to do something many before him had considered impossible…to create a link between his own internal world and the physical world he lived in.

A link he created by opening a channel between his mindscape and his own magical core.

Willing himself deeper into his mindscape and into the chamber where the representation of his core resided he almost recoiled in shock at what he found there.

He berated himself for not expecting it. He had come back in time to before the first battle of Hogwarts. To a time when Voldemort's soul fragment still resided in his scar.

The representation his subconscious mind had chosen for his core was a giant beam of crackling green energy. He had no idea if how he saw his magical core was even close to what it truly looked like, but over the years and a lot careful consideration he had come to the decision that he simply did not care.

He liked it, so he had never made an effort to change it.

Rising from floor to ceiling the giant pillar of energy pulsed and spun continuously. His magic a vibrant green, the same shade of emerald as his eyes. It was intense, like a sun, but not harsh or blinding. By comparison the soul fragment's energy was black and viscous. More like oil than light. It wrapped itself around his own energy like a parasite feeding of the energy and most likely trying to suppress it at the same time. Harry knew from experience that in the past his core would likely have been compressed and stunted at this point in his life.

Fortunately that was no longer the case. The merging of his older adult core had apparently broken through the binding effect.

Unfortunately, he knew that would only be temporary. He couldn't leave the situation as it was. The darkness had been weakened and was barely hanging on, but it would most likely grow stronger as it continued to feed from his core. It would attempt to rebind his powers and if it succeeded it would feed off his core and be nearly impossible to dislodge without dying again.

Harry had no desire to risk death a third time when he could simply remove the taint now.

Being just a mental projection, in what was actually only a mental representation of his own internal world, any magic or action he took was simply an expression of his own will. It took almost no effort to begin burning off the dark substance.

The process took time. He had be thorough. Not even trace amounts could be left behind. He would extend his will out to a tendril of the dark energy and focus his magic there. The darkness was unable to absorb the energy being actively directed at it and was overwhelmed by its intensity and expunged.

This method seemed to be working for a time until he realized the energy was not simply sitting back and allowing itself to be removed. After burning away a piece of the invading energy he cursed in frustration as he noticed that remains of the first tendril he had removed was trying to reattach itself. He quickly doubled his efforts and started working faster, burning away existing tendrils while also preventing the old ones from taking hold again. It took over an hour to complete, but when he was finished the thrashing tendrils that had fallen to the floor were left squirming there like worms.

As he watched, the dark mass started shifting and changing, taking on a familiar form. One that caused Harry to recoil in disgust as he recognized it.

It was the same whimpering childlike figure that Harry had seen on the afterlife platform back in his seventh year when Voldemort had first killed him.

Harry knew exactly what to do with it. Gathering his will once more he commanded a surge of energy from his now completely cleansed core to strike the soul fragment.

Its screech filled the air for a few seconds before it finally succumbed and was annihilated.

Harry took a metaphorical breather and looked around for any signs that Voldemort's evil had survived. Finding none, he returned to original reason for examining his core.

What he saw brought a grin to his face.

His original 15 year old core had been bound by Riddle's soul when he was a baby, a fact that he hadn't figured out until his early twenties when the banishment of the scar horcrux had resulted in his core suddenly expanding several times over in just a few years.

In his prime he had managed to estimate his power to being about twice that of Tom Riddle's AKA Voldemort's and about three time more powerful than Dumbledore's. At the age of 17 Fate's whim…cough…prophecy…had dictated that he be Voldemort's equal. Leaving their cores…his stunted at the time…about the same capacity wise.

Taking that into consideration Harry was relieved to see that while he wasn't back at full strength yet, he was still about three quarters of the way there. Should his magic continue to develop like it should have from the beginning, by the time he was in his magical prime again he should be about twice as powerful as he was in the future before his decline.

The thought gave him some comfort. Even though he would have to wait a bit to actually see a significant increase he should at least have no problems matching Riddle in terms of raw magic.

Beyond his power levels there was another aspect of the merger that pleased him.

His magical signature matched that of his older self.

He would be able to perform all the magic he wished without the ministry sensors being any the wiser.

Allowing himself to feel optimistic about the immediate future Harry pulled himself out of his mindscape and made his way downstairs to prepare lunch.

Dudley was probably out terrorizing the neighborhood kids and Vernon was at work, leaving his aunt as the only other person in the house.

Luckily she seemed to be avoiding him and he was left in peace as he prepared himself a quick sandwich. Taking his food back to his room Harry spent the time it took him to eat to consider his next move.

Looking around he came to decision that it was time to see if his magical control had suffered at all with the transition.

Moving to the center of the room once again he imagined what he wanted the space around him to look like.

Using the standard spacial expansion charms took too long in his opinion. You had to do one dimension at a time.

He had always found it to be extremely tedious.

Harry's way was much faster, if a great deal less efficient in terms of the power required.

Holding the image of the new room in his mind he held up his hands, palms facing towards the walls of his room and, with an infusion of magic and exertion of will, he pushed. His small room growing to the size of the Gryffindor common room in less than a second.

That was a decent start, but not really a great test of his overall abilities.

He focused his thoughts on what he wanted and magic spread across the room as walls grew from the floor and furniture popped into existence. Harry relaxed his concentration and looked around at his brand new apartment, with a fully functional bathroom including a shower and sink; and a bedroom with a giant four post bed.

Harry felt a bit impressed despite himself. The thought that he would be capable of such magic at the age of 15 would have been ludicrous to him the first time around.

He was brought out of his perusal by a pounding on his bedroom door and a frantic voice coming from the hall.

"Harry! What's going on!? Potter answer me!" The voice sounded panicked and Harry quickly made his way to the door forgetting that he had sealed it with magic before starting with the renovations.

Unsealing it he opened the door to see a disheveled and frantic Nymphadora Tonks staring at him. Her eyes wide with confusion.

"Wotcher Tonks." Harry greeted the young metamorph casually still a little high on the success of using his magic again after being unable to for so long.

A moment later the fact that he was talking to someone who had died in his previous life hit him square in the gut forcing the excitement down. He couldn't help but remember all the silly conversations he and Tonks had had in the summer before she had died in the 1st battle for Hogwarts.

To him it was like looking at her ghost.

"That's my line." She replied though it sounded more like an automatic response than something she had intended to say. She was silent for a few seconds, a confused look on her face, before she shook her head and started ranting. "Harry are you ok!? What happened? I was just showing up for my shift when I felt the magic literally pouring out of the house. Did something happen?"

Harry cut her off before she could get any further. "I'm fine Tonks. Nothing happened." Harry tried to close the door a bit to block her view of the room behind him, his mind racing to find a way to explain the changes. He had completely forgotten that The Order had placed guards to watch out for him after Voldemort's return.

I should have warded the room first!

"Harry something happened. That was a lot of magic! I could feel it from the street...what..." She trailed off as she caught a glimpse of the room behind him. Before he could even think to stop her she was dodging around him and in the room gaping at the size of it. "Oh Merlin...Harry...did you do this?"

Harry sighed in defeat. Time to do damage control. "Yes Tonks I did, but please let me explain before you tell anyone."

He could see her surprise at his shift in attitude.

Silence reigned for a few seconds before she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Well…Go ahead, I'm listening." She said.

Harry clamped down on his emotions as he fought the desire to grin at her aggravation.

"Okay right…" He glanced around the room anxiously for a moment trying to come up with an excuse the young auror would buy. "I've been reading ahead this summer and came across the room expansion charms." He explained. "I figured I'd give it a try."

"Harry Blimey! Are you trying to get expelled!?" She spun around with her hands wide as if trying to indicate the entire room and emphasize the scale of the issue. "The ministry will have detected all the magic you used. There's no way they'll buy that it was accidental. They're gonna snap your wand for this!" Tonks said frantically.

"Tonks don't worry. It's ok." Harry said turning and walking towards the desk sitting along the back wall, he opened a drawer and reached in to "remove" the object he had conjured as soon as his hand was out of sight.

He brought it over to Tonks whose eyes widened as it got near.

It was a blue crystal no bigger than his palm and was shaped like a pyramid, except for its rounded base. The four sides etched with ruins whose lines were shimmering with a soft white light.

"This is a masking ward stone. I learned how to make one from a book I found in the restricted section of the library last year while I was trying to prepare for the tournament. It jumbles up all magical signatures within a 10 yard radius. The sensors tuned to me at the ministry can't detect any magic I do while I'm here."

Tonks looked at the stone for a minute and then glanced up into Harry's eyes. "Bloody hell mate…" She trailed off looking down and pinching her brow. "…I don't know if you're aware Harry, but I'm an auror…"

Harry rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Does that mean you're going to arrest me?" Harry asked her with a sheepish grin.

Eyeing him for moment as if contemplating doing just that, she smirked at him when her lack of answer started to make him fidget.

"I guess not." She said with an exaggerated sigh. "Just be more careful in the future."

"Don't worry Tonks. I'll be good." He replied with a smile.

Tonks couldn't help but smile back. The kid was definitely a charmer.

His smile turned into a frown as a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

"You know we were creating a LOT of noise there for a bit. Why didn't Aunt Petunia come to find out what was going on…wait did she see you when you came in yelling?"

It was Tonk's turn to look away in embarrassment.

"Well I might've…hit her with a stunner on my way up here." She confessed.

"Hmmm that would…wait…you did what?" Harry asked taken aback.

"Well she tried to stop me from coming up here. Started screeching at me..." Tonks was quick to explain. "I didn't know what was going on up here. I just felt the magic coming from your room and when she wouldn't let me in I kind of just…."

"Hit her with a stunner." Harry finished for her.

"Yeah." Tonks confirmed softly.

Harry sighed with relief as he observed the woman in front of him acting less like the auror he knew her to be and more like a child expecting to be scolded.

"Well at least we won't have to worry about her interrupting us." He said with a chuckle surprising the young woman in front of him as he gestured for her to take a seat on his new sofa.

"So what can you tell me about what's been going on?" Harry asked trying to change the subject.

Tonks knew right away what he was referring to. He could see it in her eyes.

"Well to be honest Harry there's not much I can tell you." She said uncomfortably, the topic of his aunt forgotten. "Dumbledore has been pretty tight lipped with a lot of his plans and for the most part I've just been doing shifts here," she told him.

"Okay, but what about any news from the ministry? How are they preparing? Have they located where Voldemort's hiding out yet?" He already knew the answers to all of his questions, but he decided to play it safe and at least try to maintain appearances.

Tonks flinched slightly at hearing the name "Voldemort" spoken aloud so easily, but recovered quickly. Her hair shifted from its normal bright pink to an equally as bright fiery red.

"The tossers aren't doing anything. The minister is still refusing to admit You-Know-Who is back!" The last part coming out harsher than expected. "Too be honest…too many people are buying into the ministry's codswallup."

Harry looked at her for a second before sighing. This was going to become a pain in arse; having to pretend he didn't know what was going on.

"What about the cemetery Tonks? Didn't anyone bother to even go pay it a visit?" This he was actually lightly curious about. He hadn't bothered to find out if anyone had gone to investigate the last time.

"Madam Bones sent Shacklebolt and me, but by the time she was able to work around Fudge and his idiocy it had already been well over a week. There was nothing to see there. I imagine Vol-Voldemort had some of his lackeys clean the scene." Her response didn't surprise him in the slightest. That was definitely Riddle's MO. He was laying low, trying to build up his powerbase before going public.

"I wish there was something I could do." Harry said as he sat down at the desk and rubbed his face with his palms a few times. "Some way to get them to listen."

"Hey I'm sure Dumbledore's working on it mate." Tonks tried to reassure him. Her hair going back to its original bubblegum inspired color.

"To be honest Tonks, I'm not sure that's enough to ease my worries right now." Harry told her wearily looking her right in the eye, "We've got to take action now before it's too late. If Voldemort's allowed to remain in the shadows while he reaches out to his old supporters, by the time we can shine a light on him it may be too late." Harry leaned back slightly in his desk chair. "What we need to do is create a list of his known associates and keep an eye on them in case he's been making contact. I wonder if anyone has tried opening a dialogue with the Werewolf packs, vampire clans, or any of the other so called "Dark Creatures". Those minorities that no one bothers to reach out to are going to be the first to flock to him when he starts making promises."

Tonks remained silent as she listened to him talk. Harry Potter was a bit of an enigma to her. From what she'd seen of him and heard from the other order members she had expected him to be ranting at her about being kept in the dark all summer, not calmly sitting there analyzing possible ways to counter the Dark Lord.

She wondered if Cedric's death had anything to do with the new more mature Harry Potter.

Harry ended up inviting Tonks to stay for dinner when he realized how late it had gotten while they were talking and she accepted with a smile and very little hesitation.

"I'm starving, I haven't had a bite to eat since this morning. Should we call out?" She asked.

"I was thinking I would make something. I've got this brand new kitchen and I kind of want to try it out." Harry smirked at the shocked look on her face.

"You can cook!?" Tonks couldn't keep her surprise to herself.

"I've been cooking since I was five years old and could reach the top of the stove." Harry replied with a laugh.

"So what are we gonna eat?" Tonks asked hearing a little voice in her head telling her to get him to expand on his answer a little bit more.

"Well I was thinking Italian." Harry told her drawing her out of her thoughts. "I haven't been able to go shopping, but I can head down to the kitchen and grab some things. It won't be anything fancy, but it should be filling.

"Great!" Tonks smiled brightly and Harry couldn't help but notice how much he enjoyed her smile. Her energy was definitely contagious.

He thought it a shame that he hadn't taken the time to get to know her better…before.

The dinner ended up being a huge hit with the young woman.

Harry had made a simple recipe, but Tonks still couldn't stop herself from praising his cooking repeatedly throughout the meal causing the younger wizard, at least from her perspective, to struggle to conceal how much he was appreciating her compliments.

It had been a long time since he had been able to cook for someone. It took him back to simpler times and fond memories.

They cleared the dishes together and split the tasks of cleaning up between them; Harry scrubbing them clean while Tonks gave them a rinse and dried them off. All done without magic, which kind of surprised Harry. Not many wizards or witches were willing to use their hands when waving a wand was so much faster and required less effort.

Once they were done Tonks excused herself for the night, letting him know that she would stop by the next day to check in on him.

He gave her a smile and escorted her to the door, watching as she walked to the end of the block before disappearing with a small crack.

Harry got ready for bed and settled down for the night. He had to admit that he was happy that he was going to have the time to get to know the young auror. He hadn't really been able to in the last go through and was definitely regretting it now. She was quick on her feet, clever and had a wicked sense of humor.

There were so many things that he was going to change this time around. He wouldn't allow anyone to dictate his future. Not again. He was going to take charge of his life and the first step to doing that would be taken care of the very next day. Harry made sure his mental shields were up before he closed his eyes and hoped for a dreamless sleep.

# # #

Harry Potter tossed and turned on his bed, as if trying to pull away from the nightmare that plagued him.

Lightning flashed as Harry chased the black cloaked figure through the darkness.

"Fight back!" Harry yelled, sending spell after spell at the man, only to watch as every one of his curses was effortlessly deflected.

"If you can't even harm me Potter, how do you imagine you'll stop the Dark Lord!?" Severus Snape mocked. His form completely unmoving, yet somehow still managing to slip farther and farther away from Harry no matter how fast he ran.

"Nooo!" Harry yelled as Snape disappeared into the darkness. His shoulders slumping under the weight of the overwhelming feeling of failure coursing through him. Time seemed to have no meaning in the dark. The lightning in the sky lighting up the area around him with every flash. A storm raged above, yet no rain fell.

"Harry?" He turned around as heard her voice call to him. Ginny Weasley, standing in front of him, dressed in her school uniform.

"Ginny? What are you doing here?" Harry asked.

"I'm here for you Harry." She replied.

"Ginny, what are you..." Harry trailed off as he heard a scream in the distance. "What was that?"

Ginny didn't seem to think it was important as she took his hand and tried to lead him back the way he had come. "It's nothing Harry, just ignore it."

"I could have sworn I heard..." He said only to hear it again, but this time there was no confusion about what it was.

"Harry!" He heard her scream and turned back to where Snape had been standing only to see his best friend surrounded by Death Eaters, their black cloaks billowing and their white masks expressionless.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled in fear. He tried to run towards her only to feel himself being held back. He turned to look at Ginny who had refused to let go of his hand. "Ginny let go! Hermione needs help." He pulled against her grip, but couldn't break free.

"No Harry, She's fine. Stay here with me." Ginny said smiling.

"Harry Please!" He heard Hermione cry again. He looked back and saw that the circle of Death Eaters had contracted, they were almost within arm's reach of her.

"Please Ginny! Let me go! She needs me!" Harry was in tears. He was desperately pulling, but her grip was impossibly strong.

"It's okay Harry." Ginny assured him. "I'm all you need." Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was she insane!? He tried to pull out his wand again to try to free himself, but it was too late.

"NOO!" Hermione screamed. Harry watched in horror as the Death Eaters finally reached the girl and he lost sight of her as the sea of black robes engulfed her. The darkness absorbing the entire group. He heard Hermione scream his name one last time, before all was silent.

"Hermione! NOO!" Harry screamed as he jerked upright in bed, gasping for breath, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Be quiet boy! This is the second time in two days! Keep this up and Godfather or not I'll have your hide!" He heard his Uncle scream from down the hall.

Harry threw the sheet he was using as a blanket off and climbed to his feet. He ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced as he felt the sweat soaked locks. He made his way over to his window and gazed out at the quiet street in front of Number 4 Privet drive.

Harry thought about the nightmare he had just had. What could it mean? Did it mean anything?

He shivered as he remembered Hermione's screams. He had felt so helpless.

Looking at the clock Harry decided to get moving. There was no use trying to get back to sleep after a nightmare like that.

After stepping out real quick to check on his aunt, who it turns out couldn't remember a thing about Tonk's arrival and had simply assumed she had fallen asleep in front of the TV, he cleaned himself up, transfiguring a pair of Dudley's old clothes into something a little more presentable and decided to take stock of what he still had available to him. He had a few hours before Tonk's was due to arrive.

Harry gestured with his hand and conjured the full length mirror that he would need for the first part of the exercises he was planning.

Hair would be first. He wanted to start off small.

Harry hadn't discovered his latent abilities as a metamorph until his mid-thirties and it had taken him years to master them. The biggest obstacle in training as a metamorphmagus was the complete knowledge and comprehension of your own features and body makeup.

Intimate knowledge of your own body was required for any truly significant changes. His older body was a lot different than the one he currently possessed. He was hoping it wouldn't take too long to retrain himself.

Slowly he forced his hair to grow out past his shoulders. He'd always enjoyed having long hair for no other reason than it made taming his unruly mop a bit easier. After that he focused on changing its color. It took over a minute of concentration, but when he finally relaxed he was pleased to see a ginger Harry Potter staring back at him from the mirror.

A moment later he grimaced as he realized he look like a Weasley, but a few seconds later he was able to relax as his hair resumed its natural shade.

He continued doing that for another hour, trying to speed up the process, it was slow work, changing the color took longer than he was used to, but in the end he was able to get himself back down to what he thought was a respectable time. Ten seconds was great deal slower than he was used to, but nothing to sniff at considering the circumstances. Eye color was next and progressed about the same.

But hair and eyes were easy for the most part; it was changing his body's shape that would present the most challenges.

His height had been a sore spot for him his first time around. He's been about 5'6" for most of his life, and if records about his paternal line were accurate he should have been at least 6' tall. The only thing he could think of to explain his lack of height was that his growth had been likely stunted by the care, or lack thereof, he had received from his relatives during his formative years.

It was time to change that.

Focusing on the magic he could feel flowing through his body he directed it to do what needed to be done. Harry grimaced slightly as he felt his body growing taller, his bones and muscles stretching. It was definitely easier than it had been the first time he had tried a full body morph, but it would take some time to get his speed back to where it should be. The discomfort he had felt during the change would fade as well once his body became use to process again.

He figured four inches was enough to start with. He was tempted to do more, but decided against it. He didn't need people asking questions about how he managed to grow eight inches in only 2 months. He could add the rest throughout the year if he felt the need. The now 5'9" Harry Potter walked around the room a little bit trying to get a feel for his new longer stride.

Harry held the form for another hour before returning to his normal height. He stumbled for a bit having gotten use to his new center of gravity.

He nearly face planted walking through the kitchen doorway, his toe snagging the door jam and leaving him off balance and cursing as he tried to sooth the pain flaring up his foot.

"Well it looks like I'm not the only clumsy one around here." Came an amused voice from behind him.

Harry whirled around quickly in surprise to see that Tonks had managed to get into the room without him noticing, almost tipping over in the process. He scolded himself for being so blind to his surroundings. Moody would have his head if he ever found out.

"Hey there Tonks how are you?" Harry asked smiling. He waited for a response, when he didn't get one he tried asking again with the same results.

Tonks was too busy staring at him with her mouth slightly agape. He was actually starting to get a little worried when she suddenly squealed in excitement.

"Oh my...How long? Do you know what you can do? Why didn't you tell me!?" She rushed through her questions almost faster than Harry could comprehend them.

"Tonks slow down. I don't understand. What are you talking about?" Harry asked confused.

"I'm talking about the fact that you're a metamorph!" Tonks yelled back.

Harry was taken back a bit and then groaned in disbelief as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror.

Harry felt like slapping himself on the forehead when he noticed that not only had he failed to shrink his hair back down, but his eyes were not their normal emerald green. Tonks had walked in to the room only herself looking at a long haired, violet eyed Harry Potter.

"Yeah I'm a metamorph. I found out a while ago." He decided not to lie. "I wasn't going to tell anybody though. I figured it would give me a big advantage if I ever have to go up against the death eaters again."

"I guess I can understand that," Tonks agreed. "Between you and me there are definitely times when I wish that I had not been so cavalier about showing people my abilities. It's definitely would have been better for my dating life." She muttered the last part to herself and Harry wisely decided not to comment on it.

Tonks couldn't contain her excitement though and for the next couple of hours she ran him through his paces testing his morphing abilities.

She even went so far as to challenge him to a contest to see who could assume the most outrageous or ridiculous shape or form.

For Harry it was a kind of frivolity that he hadn't indulged in…well ever. Simply having fun was not something he had done a lot of in his life. He found himself enjoying it immensely despite his initial frustration over the fact that he'd managed to keep his metamorph powers a secret for all of a day and a half.

Tonks was forced to admit defeat in their last round when she couldn't stop laughing long enough to catch a breath.

Harry, using a full body morph and some transfiguration, had assumed Severus Snape's form wearing a black bodysuit and a too-too. That was hilarious enough, but when he started prancing around in a circle Tonks completely lost it.

"Bloody hell mate! Please stop…I'm never gonna be able to unsee that." Tonks gasped while trying to bring her breathing back under control.

Harry stopped with a grin and resumed his natural form and attire. He watched as Tonks calmed herself down although he was amused to hear a small giggle pop out randomly for the next several minutes.

Her eyes were shining with joy and Harry felt his stomach do a flip flop and his face get warm. He looked away embarrassed when he realized he was staring.

Stop it right now.Harry scolded himself. You are not some snot nosed teenager. Get your hormones under control. He hadn't realized how much of a change being 15 again would be in that aspect.

If things weren't already going to be hard enough…

Deciding it was best to try and get away from the spunky pinkette, he was planning on excusing himself to run some errands, but as usual his plan backfired. Although he was man enough to admit that, at least this time, he should have seen it coming.

"OK." She said when he told her that he had planned to go to Diagon Alley that afternoon. "That's great. I wouldn't mind picking up some things while we're out."

"You want to go?" Harry asked hoping he had heard her wrong.

"Uhhh yeah. Do you honestly think I'd let you wander around Diagon Alley by yourself?" She asked incredulously. "What kind of minder would that make me? Dumbledore would have my head."

"Yeah I guess so." Harry saw the look on her face and immediately tried to back-step. "Not that I don't want you to come Tonks. I…ummm…I" He stuttered trying to come up with a response that wasn't likely to get him hexed.

She merely arched an eyebrow and smirked. "Well aren't you the eloquent one Mr. Potter?" His face lit up in a blush at her teasing tone, but he quickly used his morphing ability to hide it.

Anxious to move on from the embarrassment Harry decided to ignore her last comment…and his reaction to it.

"I'm gonna make a few alterations." Harry told her closing his eyes and focusing on the morph he had in mind.

The first thing that changed was his height. It only took a few seconds for him to change his height back to his new taller form.

He opened his eyes and smiled as he realized he was now looking down slightly at the 5'8" woman. He watched for her reaction as she studied him closely while he completed his morph, his shoulders growing wider, his arms and legs becoming thicker, and his facial features sharpening. He added the final touch and grew his hair out to just below his shoulders.

Deciding to see what she thought Harry did a quick, but passive Legilimency scan when their eyes met. Not enough to touch any defenses she might have, but enough to get a few quick flashes of her most dominant emotion.

He smirked as he caught a brief glimpse of what he knew to be arousal and then a flood of embarrassment.

Not wanting to be to invasive he stopped his scan and settled for a brief chuckle.

"So what do you think Tonks?" He asked her wondering what she would say.

Tonks was speechless. Before her was a Harry Potter that could easily pass for 18 or 19. He was well muscled, but not excessively so. She could see the way his shirt stretched across his chest that he was very defined, but not overly bulky. It seemed he preferred endurance and speed over sheer brute strength.

"Well what do you think?" Harry asked again with a knowing smile.

"Wow..." Tonks said quietly, before seeming to realize what she had said and immediately tried to cover it up with a cough. "Umm you look fine." She eventually replied.

"Good." Harry replied.

"Why the change?" She asked.

"Well to be honest I don't really feel fifteen." He said moving to grab a transfigured cloak off his couch. "I guess with everything that's happened, fighting Riddle, the chamber of secrets fiasco, not to mention – last year." He sighed. "I just feel old." He told her seriously. "If I had the choice, this is the age I would prefer to be and how I want people to see me. Feels more comfortable, more…real."

This was actually true. He had felt older than his years back when he was really 15 and he knew with complete certainty that if he had known about his metamorph powers then he definitely would have used them.

He was considering making the change permanent; Explaining his reasons now gave him the chance to lay out some ground work.

He didn't know if he could really handle being 15 again. The difference between 15 and 18 might be small, but it felt significant to him.

"Alright I can understand that." Tonks said all trace of humor gone from her voice. He could tell she sympathized with him. "Whenever you're ready, I can side-along you and we can apparate to the Leaky Cauldron's entry point."

Harry thanked her, taking a moment to wave his wand over his clothes to transfigure them into a set of comfortable wizarding robes, and throwing on his cloak. Looking at Tonks to get her opinion, he grinned as she linked arms with him and gave him a playful wink, he gave her arm a squeeze to show his appreciation for her unspoken understanding, and they were off; disappearing with a small crack.

# # #

They reappeared in the Leaky Cauldron and Tonks wasted no time directing Harry to the back entrance and into Diagon Alley. Once through she stopped and looked around as if trying to decide where to go first, but Harry already has plans and tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.

"Tonks I need to go to Gringotts before we go anywhere else. I haven't been since the summer before my third year at Hogwarts. How about I meet you at Florean's in about forty-five minutes?" Harry suggested.

She was reluctant to let him go off on his own, but relented when he mentioned that he needed to talk to the Goblins about his account status and it was unlikely that they would allow her to accompany him anyway.

After agreeing to meet up again at the popular ice cream parlor they split up and went their separate ways. Tonks heading off to take care of some personal shopping and Harry towards Gringotts.

Stepping into the massive building Harry looked around briefly before spotting the only goblin he recognized.

"Well let's hope this works." Harry muttered to himself.

Approaching the goblin's station Harry waited patiently for the goblin to acknowledge him. It didn't take long. Only about 30 seconds passed before the goblin looked up from counting a stack of rubies and stared at the wizard in front of him.

"Yes, what is it?" The goblin asked, obviously annoyed with having to stop his work.

"Hello Griphook. I apologize for interrupting you. I need help and recognized you from my first visit. If it's an inconvenience I can wait until someone else is available." Harry watched as the goblin's eyes seem to widen in surprise before performing the normal quick check of his forehead. Seeing the lightning bolt shaped scar made the goblin stiffen.

"Mr Potter, how may I help you?" Griphook inquired evenly, his tone as polite as a goblin probably ever was to a wizard. Harry was curious about the sudden change, but decided to leave it alone for now.

"Well Griphook, I wanted to get a full accounting of my holdings with Gringotts and was hoping someone could assist me." Harry explained.

"Very well. If you would excuse me for just a moment. I will see if your account manager is available." Griphook told replied. Harry nodded slightly surprised.

Since when do I have an account manager? He asked himself.

He wasn't forced to wait long. Only five minutes had passed before Griphook came back looking nervous. "If you will please follow me. Director Ragnok has decided to deal with your account personally." He said.

Harry's eyes narrowed a bit, but nodded his acceptance before following the goblin deeper into the bank.

The hallways seemed to go on forever and Harry was starting to doubt that he'd be able to find his way back on his own if he had to when they stopped at a large ornate door guarded by two of the largest goblins he had ever seen.

Most of the goblins Harry had ever seen were short, the tallest reaching about 4 and a ½ feet. These on the other hand were close to his new height, maybe a head smaller – but had more than enough muscle to give him a moment's pause.

"Mr. Potter is here to speak to Chief Ragnok." Griphook said out loud.

Harry couldn't help but get a little nervous when neither of the guards so much as moved an inch in response.

He was just starting to consider thinking up an exit strategy when the doors behind them suddenly swung open, seemingly by themselves, neither of the guards reacting at all.

Griphook walked inside, Harry following close behind trying to appear unaffected. The office itself was massive, almost half the size of the great hall at Hogwarts if Harry had to guess.

It was impressive to say the least. Weapons of all kinds decorated the walls; swords, maces, halberds, and many others he couldn't place. All of them looked to be in pristine condition, as if at a moment's notice they were set to jump off the walls, ready to be wielded in the defense of their owner. Harry blinked for a moment as he saw what he could have sworn was a dust particle being severed in two on the edge of a nasty looking dagger hanging on the wall to his right.

Ok now you're just starting to imagine things Potter.

They made it to the center of the room and Griphook immediately bowed his head. "High Chief Ragnok, Mr. Potter – as you requested."

Harry watched as the chair behind the desk turned around to reveal a truly impressive looking goblin. At least two heads taller than Griphook (still smaller than Harry), and rippling with muscle. Bands of what appeared to be gold encircling his biceps, and a deadly looking, yet oddly ceremonial dagger sheathed on his hip.

The goblin said nothing, instead just turned his gaze to Harry for a moment as if trying to get his measure.

Deciding a show of confidence might serve him well, or get him killed, Harry stepped forward he bowed at the waist, opening his hands and spreading them a little away from his body to show that he was unarmed.

He had no idea if he was doing the right thing, but he decided to just to do what felt right. Hopefully they would not take offense and understand his intentions.

"High chief Ragnok. I am Harry Potter. I have to admit that I did not expect to meet with one of your station today." Harry spoke clearly.

The two goblins seemed surprised and looked at each other for a second before Ragnok returned his attention to Harry, who by this point was starting to feel a little tense. Goblins were not to be looked down upon. He had seen them fight in the future when Voldemort had attempted to storm the bank, believing himself to be invincible against those he considered little more than animals.

Many a death eater had died that day and he heard later on that even THINKING about that attack in the Dark Lord's presence was enough to earn a not so quick death.

Voldemort did not take kindly to being reminded of his failures.

Suddenly Ragnok grinned and gestured towards the chair in front of him, urging him to sit. "Welcome Mr. Potter, I have to say I am curious as to why we have not met before?"

"I'm sorry sir, but I was not aware that you had wished to meet with me." Harry tried to explain.

"I am referring, Mr. Potter, to the fact that you did not come in on your 11th birthday to verify your holdings as was laid out in your parents will." Ragnok told him.

"My parents had a will?" Harry asked in a whisper. He could tell right away that this was not the response Ragnok was expecting. The goblins face immediately lost all traces of friendliness.

"Were you not informed of the will reading by your guardian?" Ragnok asked.

"Sir no one's ever said anything about them other than telling me how they died. I know I have a trust vault, but that's all they ever mentioned." He told them. Making sure not to lie outright. The goblins were shrewd and respected ambition, but if they ever caught him in a lie….It would make things much more difficult going forward. "My current guardians are Muggles." He said after a few seconds hoping Ragnok would assume he was confused about the identity of his current magical guardian.

"It would seem to me Mr. Potter that you have not been kept as informed as you should have been." Ragnok stated much to Harry's relief. "Albus Dumbledore is your current 'magical' guardian." The goblin looked at the young wizard for a moment. "Has no one told you anything about your accounts?"

"No sir...wait I'm sorry did you say 'accounts'. I was told that I only had one." Harry replied.

"I have a listing here of your current holdings. Please review them and I will be happy to answer any questions you have when you're finished." He handed Harry a scroll and sat back.

Account Review

Account Holder: Harry James Potter

Houses to be claimed by blood or inheritance,

House of Potter:

Status: Active – Line Continuance Available

Liquid Assets: 56,034,312 g 15 s 23 k

Property Holdings Associated:

Potter Cottage - Godrics Hollow, Location: secured

Potter Manor, Location: secured

Potter's retreat, Location: secured

# 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey

House of Peverell:

Status: Dormant (Accounts Suspended)

Liquid Assets: 37,117,050 g

Property Holdings:

¼ Ownership: Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

All property locations listed as secured are accessible through head of house portkey.

Total Liquid Assets Equaling:93,151,362g 15 s 23k

Harry just sat there for a moment, going over the figures in his head. The last time around he hadn't claimed his lordship until his late 40's being unaware of their existence. The goblins had not taken kindly to his riding a dragon through their bank. His accounts had been drained significantly to pay for the damages and the heavy fine they'd hit him with. While he still had enough money to see him set up comfortably for quite some time, he had never truly stopped to consider what he had lost.

It's not like Gringotts had existed much longer as a banking institution anyway. They had officially closed their doors barely a year after he had finally gotten access to his family vault.

"Director what is the current exchange rate for galleons to pounds right now?" Harry asked without looking at the goblin.

"Roughly 5 pounds to a galleon." He said.

"465 million pounds." He did the math in his head.

Ok…wasn't expecting that, but let's not let it distract us. I can focus on that later.

Deciding to move on to the next point of business and leave thinking about the rest for a later time, Harry rolled the scroll up and stored it in his robes.

"Director I would like to claim my inheritance at this time." He stated sitting up straight.

"Very well, in order to do that we need you to claim your head of house rights." Ragnok told him with what probably passed as a goblin grin.

Ragnok pulled a small box out of his desk and opened it to reveal two rings inside. Each bearing a family crest.

Harry recognized the potter crest immediately: a wand and sword crossed over a shield.

The Peverell crest was similar; consisting of a shield as well, but instead of a sword the shield was accompanied by three wands positioned to form a triangle.

The rings were both made of gold with the shield of each appearing to be silver.

"Put each on, one at a time, on the same finger and they will provide the rest." Ragnok instructed.

Harry decided to start with the Potter ring. He slipped it on his finger, watching as it resized itself to fit properly. Words seemed to flow into his mind. Compelling him to speak.

"I, Harry James Potter, Hereby Claim Lordship over House Potter as is my right. So Mote it be." The ring glowed white for a moment before the light faded.

Repeating the same process with the Peverell ring Harry once more allowed the words to flow through him.

"I, Harry James Potter, by rights of inheritance and magic, claim lordship of the House of Peverell." The second ring also glowed, but instead of simply fading, the light seemed to spread to the Potter ring and a moment later the metal of the Peverell ring seemed to flow like water as it merged with the other.

"Well." Harry said still staring at the lone remaining ring on his finger. "Director Ragnok, it seems things are changing for me. Would you mind answering a few questions I have and listening to an offer I'd like to make."

"Lord Potter I have some time before my next appointment. Please continue." The elder goblin replied curiously.

"Well let me ask you…would Gringotts be interested in securing a contract for the harvesting and sale of the carcass of a 1,000 year old basilisk?"

The two goblins in the room took a moment to look at each other as if to question whether or not they had heard him correctly before the Director of Gringotts let out a chuckle as he folded his hands on the desk in front of him.

"Lord Potter would you like any refreshments? It seems we have much to discuss."

To be Continued…

Translations:

Iustorum autem animae quae totamque incestat Pallantias inficit custodes operum lucis. Obsecro, abscondissem me forsitan ab eo vela mortalibus oculis transire. Apparuit coram me dominus Abaddon perditionem.

She who stains the souls of the righteous and defiles the works of the keepers of the light. I beseech you, cross the veils that hide from mortal eyes. Appear before me Abaddon lord of destruction.

Author's Note: Okay everyone that is it for the first chapter. Please let me know what you think. I appreciate all reviews both positive and negative. If I am doing something right it bolsters my confidence if you guys let me know, but on the same token if I'm doing something wrong it helps me grow as a writer if you guys tell me the truth.