379Disclaimer : I don't own Harry Potter.
Chapter 2: 2nd of June 2019
Harry walked out of St. Mungo's as fast as he could. He tightened his fists rhythmically to keep his attention focused on the small task and prevent himself from bursting into tears, launching an attack on whoever looked at him the wrong way or collapsing on the ground and giving up.
When his Magic rippled around him and burst the doors of the hospital open, he knew he needed a long walk to calm down before he was in any state to talk with someone else.
After the peace treaty, the Wizarding World had built a warded corridor linking St. Mungo's to Diagon Alley and the Ministry. From the outside, it was invisible to Muggles, but when you walked in it, the walls of the corridor were enchanted to show the passer-by what they wanted to see. On it, some wizards saw the wizarding news broadcast, an innovation brought by the increased contact between the two worlds and the sudden importance given to quick, reliable information.
Harry saw images of Rose and Hugo laughing as they chased each other in the field behind the Burrow two summers before. In a low voice, he cursed the charm for picking up on his wish to see Ron's children alive and happy as he struggled to keep his composure. He forced himself to look to the ground as he walked, to think of what he would tell the Unspeakables.
When they contacted him a few months before to inform him of their plan, he had discarded it as unrealistic and cowardly. He would use whatever he could to find a counter-curse in their timeline and he would succeed. He wouldn't take the easy way out and jump in a time ritual they didn't even know would work. The Unspeakables hadn't even been able to tell him whether their current reality would disappear if he changed things in the past, or whether it would continue on, with everyone he cared about slowly dying as he was fraternising with Death Eaters in the past. He had just started his Healing course at the time and was confident that, combined with his investigation, he would understand soon enough how the curse worked and how to counteract it.
Needless to say, things didn't go so smoothly and today, he still far from finding a solution to the curse. On the plus side, he had found that he quite liked Healing. It had only been a course on Battle Healing available for Aurors, but he liked to feel useful for a few moments when his colleagues were injured. He had thought that maybe, when this whole mess would be over, he could consider a career change after twenty years hunting criminals and settling quarrels between Muggles and Wizards.
Now, it wasn't clear if anyone would stick around much longer to even need Healing.
The walls of the corridor filled with the faces of those he had lost. He started to clench his fists rhythmically again. How stupid had he been, to throw away a chance to go back to the past and save them all? He had fought against bearing once again the responsibility for the fate of the world. He had naïvely thought he could solve this puzzle without needing to go back in time. But the curse grew stronger. Once released, it evolved autonomously and morphed into something more complex, more damaging as time passed. What could have been used to fight it a few months ago was now completely useless. Even Purebloods were dying at this point. Even those almighty Purebloods who had played God and had wanted to purge society.
The images changed suddenly for walls of fire, following an association his brain had made. Purebloods couldn't control the Fiendfyre they conjured, as usual. It was like Crabbe in the Room of Requirement all over again, when he thought of it. So typical and pointless. Harry didn't understand how they could have been so careless.
He turned to the left when the tunnel split in two and headed to the deserted Ministry. Only the emergency services were running at full capacity now. The rest of the Aurors and the Healers, the Unspeakables and the Magical theoreticians were all working together in unprecedented collaboration to find a solution to the crisis while the Muggle Liaison Office kept the tenuous peace in place. The Muggle government had threatened to take over the administration of the Wizarding World to deal with the crisis if they didn't settle the problem rapidly. But if they let a few months, maybe a year, pass, they wouldn't even have anything left to rule over.
Harry focused on Hermione's smiling face on the wall as he tried to get rid of his dark thoughts. He went back again on the information the Unspeakables had given him before he shot their offer down.
The curse had been created during Voldemort's first rise to power, so they wanted to go back the closest to that time as they could. They didn't know what anchoring the ritual to someone's blood would cause to the efficiency of the spell, so they wanted to send someone as powerful as they could find to make it go back as far as possible. They had no idea of whether it would work. Time-travel was their last resort. Before, when Harry was still confident that the White Wave could be contained, he had likened it to giving up, to committing suicide. He had to be ready to die to step in the ritual circle.
Harry stopped at the edge of the warded corridor, thinking his decision over for a moment. He felt like he was standing in the Forbidden Forest again, all those years ago. Was he still prepared to sacrifice his life for a chance to save the Wizarding world? He nodded resolutely and stepped out of the corridor leading to the Ministry.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the image on the wall change again. A young man leaning against a majestic column, shrouded in shadows, now appeared right behind him. Harry recognised him with a jolt and turned to look at him for a moment. As he watched, the young man grew older and his charming features became more handsome while his eyes changed from a deep blue to a striking crimson. The Voldemort Harry remembered from Dumbledore's memory in the 50s now stood next to him and Harry frowned in thought. He wondered if it wasn't suicidal of him to go back in time even if the ritual did work. After all, Harry knew that he had only managed to kill the other because of had gotten extremely lucky. Now, if the Unspeakables still wanted of him, he would be sent back to a time when Voldemort was saner and more powerful than he had ever been in Harry's struggle against him. At least, until his mission was accomplished and the curse's creation prevented, Harry wouldn't have to go against him. The timeline needed to be kept as intact as possible for him to find the culprit and, since the latter would mostly likely be in the Death Eaters' ranks, he needed to infiltrate them and pass for someone with similar convictions.
Harry scoffed and walked away from the image of his enemy. He would just have to use his 'exceptional' lying skills to somehow foil a master manipulator for an undetermined period of time.
No problem at all, he thought as he rearranged his tie knot nervously. It will go swiftly, as for everything in my life.
The doors of the Ministry opened at his approach and he couldn't help but to send a glance back to the corridor walls over his shoulder.
Tom Riddle shot him a cunning smile and his eyes glinted with shrewdness.
Harry's heart skipped a beat. The doors of the Ministry closed behind him. He sighed and headed to the Department of Mysteries.
Of course it wouldn't be that easy.
.
o0o0o
14th of June 2019
Harry stood next to Ron in support as the line of grieving acquaintances and family came to offer him their condolences. He stayed well after everyone else but Ron were gone and they stood still, looking at the fresh graves next to Hermione's own.
"You're leaving soon, aren't you?" asked Ron knowingly, his eyes glued to the headstones.
Harry sighed tiredly.
"Yeah, their date was set and they had already started to teach the facts to someone else when I changed my mind. They are having me do this new Muggle-inspired subliminal learning technique where I sleep inside a Pensive to make me cram in as much as I can before next week. I tried to tell them that I already don't sleep well and that I can't fall asleep when they are droning lists of Death Eater and Dark supporters' names and characteristics, but they think I'm just an old man who doesn't understand new technology. I bet Teddy told them about that time he tried to teach me how to use the new Mind Floo and it took him three hours just to get me to a point where I could use the most basic functions on the bloody thing," he complained good-naturedly.
Ron snorted humourlessly, but didn't turn to him.
Harry felt guilt churning in his stomach.
"You know, if you want, I could still stay here. I mean, you're still alright, and Teddy too and it's not as if I really have a chance of beating this. There's no Prophecy this time and..." he started, before Ron interrupted him.
"I thought of making them Horcruxes," he whispered, staring fixedly at his children's graves.
Harry closed his eyes in grief and released a breath.
"You know that's not a solution, Ron," he pleaded.
"The worst feeling in the world is to stare at your dying children and not be able to do anything for them. I would have given them my life, my magic, my soul if that helped them."
"You know how it affected Voldemort. You didn't really want that for your kids, come on," Harry reasoned.
"I know, Merlin! I didn't do it for a reason! Before the curse, Hugo wanted to become a Herbologist, like Neville, you know. He wanted to grow plants that could help people, he used to say. I couldn't have made him kill someone... I couldn't have tainted him like that," said Ron, shaking his head. "What I wanted to say is that I would give anything for a chance to save my kids. For being able to feel like I'm doing something. I would even have joined you in that Healing program, by the way, but my Potions and Herbology grades were worse than yours and I couldn't get in."
"Fat load of good that did me, anyway," replied Harry to reassure him.
Ron sighed again. His face was pasty-white with too much time in the hospital and too little sleep. Harry frowned in worry and shot him a Diagnostic spell to be safe. It came back clean of the curse. At least, Ron was still untouched by it.
"Yeah, I know, I haven't been 'engulfed' yet. I reckon I won't be for long, though," he commented.
Harry's gut twisted in pain.
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, with you travelling to the past and Hermione and the kids... There isn't many things to keep alive for," Ron stated.
"You know, if you want, maybe I could get the Unspeakables to sent you back instead of me. I mean, you wouldn't have much time to prepare, but..." started Harry.
"But nothing. It has to be you who go back, Harry. You know more about You-Know...Voldemort...than anybody else, so you know how to make him accept you in his ranks and you're powerful enough to deal with the nutcase if you need to."
Harry shook his head.
"I'm not so sure of that. Voldemort in his first rise was a lot saner and more focused than when I fought him. And even then, I got lucky the whole time. I won because of a series of coincidences and lucky shots that all perfectly aligned so that that one time, his Killing curse would rebound on him and kill him. Luck was all it was, you know that," he pointed out.
"Still, I think that if there is anyone who can do it, it's you, Harry. If you want to think that luck is the one to thank, fine by me. But I trust you to do your damnedest and save all of us ungrateful sods that will never know all the things you've sacrificed to reach that goal. And even if that means you'll have to commit horrible crimes in the Death Eater ranks to gain their confidence and even if the other version of me doesn't like you much, well, do whatever you need to stop the White Wave from being created and know that I understand its necessity and that I am not judging you."
Harry felt a warm feeling settle in his stomach. He was eternally grateful for the support of his friends. And he was struck again at how much Ron had matured since they left Hogwarts.
Then, Ron turned his heavy gaze away from the headstones and they hugged each other tightly.
"I will do my best, Ron. I promise," said Harry when he released the hug.
"That's all I ask," he replied with a tired smile before looking back at the graves again.
Sensing that Ron needed to be alone, Harry nodded and took a few steps in the direction of the entrance.
"Oh, and Harry," called Ron.
"Yeah?" he answered, turning back to look at him.
"If you meet me there, or another version of me anyway...can you please convince me to ask Hermione out again? And possibly earlier? I wouldn't want any version of me to live without her," Ron said, a hand resting lightly on his wife's headstone.
Harry swallowed and forced a reassuring smile on his face.
"Got that. I won't forget."
His best friend of thirty years shot him a small parting smile and waved once.
Harry turned on himself and Apparated out of the cemetery.
.
Happy New Year everyone! I'm so happy to see that so many of you liked the idea for this story! Thank you so much to those who reviewed, favorited and followed my new story! You guys are what keep me writing! :)
In case any of you are wondering, the next chapter will be the last one in 2019. As I explained to one of my reviewers, this chapter and the next are sad and maybe a bit too bleak, but the story as a whole won't just be a series of tragedies one after the other. The future just had to be pretty desperate to send someone back in time, especially since they risk changing the chain of events that led to Voldemort's downfall...
Anyway, you will see! Thank you in advance for letting me know what you thought of this chapter! :D