A/N: Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I just had an idea that I had to get out of my head. The rights gladly belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

The summer had started off bright and blue. Cloudless with relentless sun. Harry couldn't bring himself to enjoy it though. Just weeks before, his godfather, Sirius Black had died. It had been all his fault. Harry had believed the fake visions that Voldemort had made him see.

He had run after his godfather, and endangered his friends as well. Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny and Luna had all been hurt. Luckily none of them had been killed.

Unlike Sirius, he thought to himself bitterly.

He dragged his feet as he walked, and the bottoms of his worn out shoes scrapped the asphalt on the playground. The swings that Dudley and his gang had broken the previous summer still hadn't been repaired, but the only one to survive the "purge" was still hanging resolutely from the metal frame.

Harry sat down on the swing, and rocked to and fro, his mind still on Sirius. In fact, the only time Harry's mind allowed him a respite from the guilt he felt at Sirius' death was to feel guilty that he had very nearly gotten his friends killed too.

"What was I thinking?" Harry muttered bitterly to himself. "They're all lucky to be alive."

He felts pangs in his stomach as he thought about his friend's and their narrow escape in the Department of Mysteries. Ron and the tentacled brains. Ginny's broken ankle. Neville's broken nose. Luna hadn't been badly hurt, but she had felt the effects of a powerful close range stunner for days. And Hermione... She had been lucky that Dolohov's curse was all the weaker because he had not been able to utter the spell. It was still a powerful, and potentially lethal, curse and she had been caught flush with it.

"I'm so sorry Hermione," Harry groaned and he let his head rest in his hands.

His grief and self pity masked the fact that the pang he had felt at remembering Hermione's fate was located somewhere else, somewhere deeper.

Night was beginning to fall now. It was still warm, and the street lights had blinked, rather lazily, into life. Harry slipped off the swing and made to head back to Number Four Privet Drive. He trudged the familiar route back to his aunt and uncle's house. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice a figure follow him as he turned into Magnolia Crescent.

Harry continued to walk, his mind clearly on other things, but stopped when he reached the point where he had, unknowingly at the time, seen his godfather for the first time. It had been a frightening experience. Harry had seen the hulking, snarling figure of Sirius' animagus form. Not to mention, he'd also been nearly run over by the Knight Bus after falling over his trunk.

Continuing on his route to Number Four, Harry was still unaware of the shadowy figure following him. A small noise made him turn around. Harry was in the alleyway where he and Dudley had been attacked by the Dementors, the previous summer. The scuff of a shoe's sole caught Harry's attention and he whipped around.

There was nothing there. Harry was confused. He knew that something had made a noise, but he couldn't see anything. Cautiously, he pulled out his wand, ready for a fight. His whole body tensed, as he scanned the alleyway. A chill of something shot down his spine, and he shivered slightly. The heat of the day had quickly dispersed.

Harry was instantly worried about the presence of Dementors. After the previous summer's encounter, he wouldn't be at all surprised if they did turn up. He looked up, and he let out a small sigh of relief as he could still see the stars twinkle and sparkle above him. His gaze fell back down to the alleyway, and he squinted through his glasses, trying to see something. However, there was nothing there.

Slightly frustrated, Harry turned around pocketed his wand and carried on back to Number Four. Suddenly, a jet of bright red light illuminated the alley. Harry had a brief moment of realisation before unconsciousness took him. He crumpled to the dirty ground, his wand still poking out the top of his overlarge jeans.

Behind him, a figure appeared out of nowhere. It was as if the figure had walked through a veneer of invisibility. It held a wand aloft, the tip of it alight.

'Nox,' the figure said croakily.

The man stumped towards Harry, before slowly kneeling down and checking on him.

'Not hurt in any way,' the man muttered. 'Good. I never did like being hit from behind.'

The man groaned as he got to his feet, and pointed his wand at the unconscious Harry.

Harry's body rose into a standing position, and the man took a firm grip of his arm. Awkwardly, the man twirled something silvery over them, and they instantly vanished. All was quiet for a moment, before a slight pop momentarily filled the air.

Almost instantly, there was another pop inside Harry's bedroom. Harry and the man appeared out of nowhere, as something silvery was pulled off them.

Hedwig clicked her beak in alarm and protest at the sight of Harry's unconsciousness. The man carefully laid him down on the bed and turned to the owl, who was starting to make quite the racket. He covered the distance in two steps and leant over to the familiar.

'Hello girl,' he muttered. 'It's good to see you again.'

Hedwig's amber eyes stared up into the man's face. Something like recognition crossed her features and she quietened instantly.

The man stumped over to the wardrobe and opened it. His reflection greeted him. For a moment, he took in the black hair, green eyes and prematurely lined face, before his gaze flitted up for the briefest moment to the outline of a lightening bolt shaped scar. Harry pulled his gaze from the reflection and started to pull his clothes out of his wardrobe.

He chucked the clothes onto the bed, and within minutes had emptied the wardrobe. Harry pulled his trunk from beneath his bed and opened it. He pulled his wand from a pocket inside his jacket and pointed it at the trunk. Waves of energy rippled over it, and numerous locks appeared on the side. Within a couple of minutes, he was finished and Harry inspected his handiwork. There were numerous compartments now, and one of them contained a large, comfortable room. The large room contained a four poster bed, not unlike Harry's from Hogwarts.

The older Harry levitated his younger self into the trunk and onto the four poster bed. Once he was sure his younger self was comfortable, Harry climbed out of the trunk and locked that compartment with a few well chosen spells. He moved back to the wardrobe and the mirror. Pointing his wand at his face, he proceeded to magically alter his features, in order to match his younger self.

Within moments, Harry found himself staring at his younger self. He found it extremely disconcerting. The lack of age lines and scars looked odd. He raised a hand and ran his fingertips over his ever-so slightly roughened cheek. Memories of his seventeen birthday flood his mind, before he shook himself and remembered that it hadn't happened yet. At least to his younger self, anyway.

He glanced at the repaired alarm clock and sighed.

'I suppose I should get some sleep,' Harry muttered to himself.

He clicked the lamp light off, crawled onto the lumpy bed and within moments had fallen asleep.

The next morning, he was rudely woken by the customary bellow up the stairs.

'Boy!'

Harry's eyes bolted open. He almost felt a pang of nostalgia at the sound. Before everything had happened.

'Boy!' Uncle Vernon roared up the stairs. 'Get down here now!'

Harry sighed, swung his legs off the bed, and quickly changed. It had been a few years, to Harry, since he had worn Dudley's overlarge hand-me-downs. It took a moment for Harry to become re-accustomed to the annoying way the sleeves kept dropping past the elbow, even though he'd folded them up enough times.

Opening his door, he shuffled along the hallway, and trudged down the stairs. Almost immediately, the sight of his massive Uncle came into view.

'You took your time!' Vernon blustered. 'Get into the kitchen and make breakfast!'

Harry sighed as his Uncle stomped back into the kitchen table, before settling himself into a chair at the kitchen table. He knew what his mission was, and it, most definitely, was not making the Dursley's breakfast. He, Harry, had managed to go back in time in order to save lives and alter his present, not go back and carry on being the Dursley's indentured slave.

'No,' Harry said as he walked into the kitchen, a steeliness filling his green eyes as he glared at them.

'What?' Vernon thundered. 'You'll do as we say, or...'

'Or what?' Harry said, his voice dangerously low. 'You'll do what?'

Vernon burst to his feet, his hands raised in gigantic fists. He advanced on Harry, who merely stood his ground and pulled out his wand.

'You can't pull that trick on us,' Vernon sneered. 'They'll expel you from the freak school of yours.'

'Well,' Harry spoke calmly, but he could feel anger radiate from his body. 'How do you know the Ministry haven't changed the rules. They believe that Voldemort's back now. Maybe they've allowed me to use magic outside of school to protect myself.'

Vernon stopped mid-step, his face a disgustingly blotchy amalgamation of purple anger and pale cream fear. It was clear to Harry that his Uncle felt both fear and anger in equal measure. It gave him a tiny amount of vindictive pleasure to have stupefied his Uncle so completely, without using magic.

'Maybe,' Harry carried on, his voice becoming low again. 'They won't even know it was me that cast the magic.'

Petunia and Dudley walked into scene at that moment. Petunia screamed and tried to shield Dudley, even though Harry's complete focus was directed at Vernon.

'Want to try me?' Harry asked. When he received no reply, he continued, his voice becoming pleasant. 'Okay then, I'll send owls off to my friends, asking them to come and get me. Hopefully they'll be here within a day or two.'

With that, Harry turned on his heel, walked up the stairs and into his room. He opened an empty compartment in his trunk and opened his wardrobe, where his books and broomstick resided. He pointed his wand at his clothes, and spell books, and they instantly shot into the trunk, landing higgledy-piggledy inside.

Hedwig stared at him with curious interest. She hadn't ever seen Harry look so... Confident. He grabbed the bag of owl treats and fed her some. She gobbled them up happily and hooted at him, before nipping his finger almost lovingly.

'I know girl. I hate it here too. Don't worry, with any luck, we'll be gone soon. I just need you to deliver a couple of letters for me. One is for Ron, and the other is for Hermione. Hang on, I'll just write them.'

Harry sat down at the desk and grabbed a spare roll of parchment. He grabbed the quill he been bought by Hermione for Christmas in their second year, and dipped it into an ink bottle. He dashed off the same note to each of them. He altered Hermione's without thinking. Ron's was a standard note, written in a fast scribble, whereas Harry had written her note with unnoticed care and deliberation.

Dear Hermione, I need to be rescued from the Dursley's. It's an utter nightmare here as always. I've asked Ron the same thing, but it might take a while for all the unnecessary preparations to be put in place. Hope you can help me. Love, Harry.

He folded the notes into two separate envelopes and tied them to Hedwig's leg. He opened the window and carried her over to it. With momentary pressure, the beautiful snowy owl took to the skies. Harry sighed and watched her fly away. Life at Privet Drive without her would be boring, as it always was, but hopefully the Order would come and rescue him and they would be reunited at the Burrow within a couple of days.

Harry spent the morning packing away his things, and reading one of the books he had been given for Christmas the previous year. Harry sat on his bed, flicking through the pages. He knew it like the back of his hand, but it allowed his mind to wander and reminisce on the better times he had known.

Hermione kept pushing to the front of his memories and it was hours before Harry broke out of his reverie. The cat flap that Uncle Vernon had installed four summers ago, rattled as a plate of soggy vegetables was pushed into his room. Harry didn't much care for the food. Over the years, food deprivation had become almost a constant companion, almost as much as Hermione had.

Tears began to sting his eyes as he thought about the last time he had seen her. Flashes of green light, her frenetic movements and her sacrifice. Harry tried to ball up all the emotions and put them into the back of his mind but he couldn't. The tears didn't stop. He couldn't hold back. He couldn't stop feeling the pain of losing her. But, he hadn't lost her, he told himself. She was alive. He wouldn't let anything happened to her this time.

He heard the distant sound of a doorbell ringing, and his Uncle's voice stutter into silence. Harry ignored it, and rolled over, tears streaming down his cheeks. A knock on his door rudely butted into his grief. He wiped the tears from his eyes and sat up.

'What?' Harry asked, and was thankful that his voice hadn't cracked.

'Harry?' It was Hermione's voice.

Harry bolted to the door, wrenched it open and stared at the brown eyed, bushy haired young woman in front of him. Without thinking, Harry pulled her into an extremely tight hug. She hugged him back.

'Well, it's good to see you too,' Hermione giggled, and the sound was music to Harry's ears.

He continued to hold onto her, as if holding on for dear life. He took in the pressure of her body against his, the softness of her skin, her smell, coconut, and the warmth of her embrace. They stood stock still, for a good few minutes, before Hermione patted him on the back.

'Err, Harry,' she whispered. 'I can't breathe.'

Harry let her go, and held her at arms length, taking in the sight of her beaming face. Her features were just as he remembered from all those years ago. Her big, brown eyes and her bushy hair were just the same as they always were. There was a lack of scarring on her cheek and neck. Her hands were warm and soft, and free from the seemingly customary blood that always seemed to coat them. She looked whole.

'Are you okay?' Hermione asked. 'You've never greeted me so, enthusiastically, before.'

'It's really good to see you,' Harry said. He knew he was gushing, but he didn't care.

'It's as if you haven't seen me for years,' she joked, and Harry smiled back weakly.

'Is it just you?' Harry asked, and Hermione shook her head.

'No, Ron, Remus, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Kingsley and Mr Weasley are here with me. We all wanted to come get you. Mrs Weasley tried to stop me and Ron from coming, as we're underage. But, we wanted to come and get you.'

'It really is good to see you,' Harry gushed, and Hermione giggled and slipped her hand into his before leading him down the stairs.

Hermione led him into the kitchen where Ron, Remus, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Kingsley and Mr Weasley were all waiting.

'Hi Harry,' Ron said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. 'You okay?'

'Now I am,' Harry said happily.

'All packed Potter?' Mad-Eye growled.

'Near enough,' Harry said. 'I've just got a couple of things to put away. I didn't know you were coming so soon. I only sent Hedwig this morning.'

'Hedwig delivered your note to me first,' Hermione said. 'I used the galleon from the DA to message Ron, who sorted it out with the Order.'

'Brilliant,' Harry said, smiling at her and squeezing her hand. She beamed back at him.

'Well, come along Potter. We haven't got all night,' Moody growled.

Harry nodded at him, removed his hand from Hermione's and raced back up to his room. He grabbed the book from the bed, chucked it into his trunk, checked for anything else he may have missed and then shut and locked it. He heaved it, along with Hedwig's empty cage, down the stairs into the hallway, where everyone was waiting for him.

'You'll be taking him for good, I take it?' Uncle Vernon growled from the lounge doorway. As one, the wizards turned to face him. 'I won't have him in my house ever again!'

'Mr Dursley,' Arthur tried to reason. 'Harry must come back to this house only once more. Once he is of age, then he will be free to the leave this house and never come back.'

'I don't care,' Vernon snarled. 'I don't want that freak in my house ever again.'

Hermione bristled. Harry grabbed her hand, but she ignored him.

'How dare you call Harry a freak!' Hermione shrieked at him.

'He's constantly put my family in danger!' Vernon blustered angrily at her.

'He's saved your family you moron,' Hermione yelled back. 'He saved your son from the Dementor's kiss!'

'I have yet to see any evidence that these Dismembers even exist!'

'Aunt Petunia told you that they do,' Harry interrupted, he covertly started to stroke the back of Hermione's hand with his thumb. 'If you don't believe her, then you won't believe any of us.'

He turned to Moody.

'Can we go?'

'Yes, yes,' Moody replied gruffly. 'Side-along apparation. You'll be with me, Ron with Arthur and Hermione with Kingsley.'

'No,' Harry said quickly. 'I'll go with Kingsley. Hermione can go with you.'

They all stared at him.

'Am I not good enough for you Potter?' Moody asked, the trace of a grin on his face.

'The Ministry is less likely to do anything to me if I have to use magic,' Harry reasoned carefully. They were all staring at him with odd expressions on their faces. 'I'd just prefer it if one of the Ministry's best ever Aurors was with an underage friend of mine. No offence Kingsley.'

He glanced at Kingsley who didn't look offended.

'Very well,' Moody snapped. 'Kingsley with Potter. I'll apparate with Miss Granger. Come on, let's get out of here.'

They stepped outside, with Remus and Tonks carrying Harry's things.

'On three,' Moody growled, Hermione's arm in a painful grip. Harry grabbed Kingsley's elbow.

'One.' Harry glanced at Hermione, who looked back, a quizzical expression on her face.

'Two.' Harry nodded at her. She turned to face forward.

'Three.'

As one, the eight of them turned on the spot and disapparated with loud cracks. After the momentary tightness and lack of oxygen, they appeared outside the Burrow. Harry let go of Kingsley's arm and the group walked through the Burrow's yard, and through the front door.

Molly Weasley was waiting for them in the kitchen. Harry could smell something delicious cooking, and his stomach growled.

'You'll have to wait a while for dinner dears,' she smiled warmly at them. 'It's not quite ready yet, but once the meeting is over, we'll eat. Ron, why don't you show Harry upstairs.'

Ron nodded, and lead Harry and Hermione up the stairs, all three of them awkwardly carrying Harry's trunk. Finally, they made it up to Ron's room, where a small camp bed had been erected for Harry to sleep on.

'It must have been bad if you sent us a plea for help after only twelve days,' Hermione said.

'I know what was in that prophecy,' Harry said bluntly. He turned around to face Ron and Hermione, who looked shocked.

'But it was destroyed,' Ron said. 'How could you know?'

'It was just a record,' Harry explained. 'Dumbledore was told the prophecy.'

'Who by?' Hermione asked.

'Professor Trelawny,' Harry said, and Hermione looked shocked.

'No,' Hermione scoffed, as if daring Harry to reveal a joke. 'Trelawny actually predicted something?'

'That's not the important thing Hermione,' Harry told her. 'It's what she prophesied.'

He sighed heavily before continuing.

'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... The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not... 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,' Harry recited, his eyes downcast. He didn't want to look at their faces. 'Dumbledore heard it when he interviewed Trelawny in the Hog's Head.'

'So...' Ron said slowly. 'Either you have to kill Voldemort or...'

'Yeah,' Harry said, still not looking up at them. 'One of us has to die.'

He finally looked up and saw their expressions. Ron looked nauseous, but Hermione's face was almost unreadable. However, Harry knew her far better than she thought, or knew, he did. She was trying to disguise her unbridled terror. The idea that Harry or Voldemort would end up killing the other was horrifying to her.

'This doesn't mean that I'm going to die,' Harry said hastily. 'Dumbledore said that I am not bound by the prophecy, but because Voldemort chooses to follow it's instructions then it will come down to one of us killing the other. I have time. I don't know how much, but I do. I need to become better. I need to learn more spells, or anything that will help me survive.'

Harry knew that what he was saying was more true than he was willing to admit. He hadn't been good enough the first time. He had a head start now. He knew what was going to happen, and how he could stop it.

'How long until we get back to Hogwarts?' Harry asked Hermione.

'Just over a month and a half,' she said immediately. 'Why?'

'I need you to go over with me as much as we can. Protective spells, curses, jinxes and hexes. You're the brightest witch I know. Anything you can do will help me.'

Hermione beamed at him and nodded. Ron stepped forward.

'What about me?' He had a hopeful look on his face, and Harry considered him for a moment. The future Ron hadn't committed all of those atrocities yet. He hadn't yet become an enemy. Harry decided that in order to help Ron avoid his future fate, he had to give him a chance.

'When we get to Hogwarts, we need to plan things. I'm also going to need a duelling partner. No going easy either. I want to get books out of the restricted section. I can use the Room of Requirement to practice some more of the dangerous spells, but I need help with real combat. It's one thing to fire spells at a dummy who can't fight back.'

'Okay,' Ron said enthusiastically. 'If I start work on it now, I might be able to come up with a few strategies in fighting Voldemort and the Death Eaters. We need to be more prepared than when we went to the Ministry..'

His voice died in his throat. The Ministry had been where Sirius had died.

'It's fine,' Harry said gruffly. 'You're right. We need to be better prepared. I'm going to ask Dumbledore for Occlumency lessons. I need them. I don't want a repeat of what happened last year.'

Harry turned back to Hermione.

'I'm going to need your help with planning some lessons for the DA. Even with Umbridge gone, we're going to need more people than ever armed and able to defend themselves. We can use the books that Lupin and Sirius got me for Christmas. I've been reading them, and there's a lot of good stuff in them.'

Hermione nodded again. Her eyes twinkled with something, but Harry couldn't quite tell what it was.

Mrs Weasley's voice echoed up the stairs, and Ron made to leave. Harry turned to follow him, but Hermione grabbed his wrist.

'Got a minute?' She asked, and Harry nodded.

Ron gave them a quick look before carrying on out of the room and down the stairs. Hermione closed the door behind him. Harry sat down on the edge of Ron's bed.

'Harry,' she said firmly, as steeling herself, taking a step towards him. 'I'm worried...'

'You don't need to worry Hermione,' Harry said quickly. 'We'll be prepared for anything Voldemort can throw at us.'

'It's not that,' she said slowly. 'I'm worried about this prophecy. If one of you is destined to kill the other...'

'Hermione,' Harry said firmly, grabbing both of her hands. His thumbs stroked the backs of her soft hands. 'I'm not going to die. I'm going to be ready for him. He's not going to know what hit him.'

Harry grinned up at her and he could see her fighting the urge to smile back.

'One more thing,' she said, and she extracted a hand from his and pulled out his note to her from her pocket. 'This letter...'

'What about it?' Harry asked quizzically.

'You signed it, love Harry,' she said.

'So...' Harry said blankly.

'You've never signed it like that before.'

'Oh,' Harry said meekly. 'Well... I just...'

Something flitted across her face for a second.

'It's fine,' she said levelly. 'I was just surprised.'

'Hermione, you're my best friend,' Harry told her sincerely.

'I'm not,' she muttered back. 'Ron is.'

'You're both my best friend, but for different reasons. I love my best friends.'

Hermione grinned at him, and they heard Mrs Weasley's voice race up the stairs again.

'Dinner must be ready,' Hermione said.

'Yeah,' Harry said softly. 'We should go down.'

Hermione nodded and bowed her head before opening the door and heading down to the kitchen. Harry followed her.

'What took you two so long?' Ron asked, as he sat down next to George.

'Talking,' Hermione said, as she sat down next to Ginny. Harry sat on Hermione's other side as Mrs Weasley placed a large plate of chicken and ham pie in front of him.