Rebirthing Now

Title: Harry Potter and Wand of Uru
Author: JoeHundredaire (joehundredaire@tthfanfic.com)
Rating: R/FR18
Disclaimer: Captain Fangirlhumper… err, J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter universe. Wish they were mine so I could do utterly retarded things to them and watch my bank account get steadily larger, but sadly not mine.
Summary: Wishing upon a falling star, 17 year-old Harry ends up in the body of his 10 year-old self, in a world where nothing is quite the same. How will he handle being a 'normal' boy in an unknown world?
Joe's Note: This originally started with the intention of being yet another rewrite of SilverAegis's infamous, oft-abandoned Harry Potter and the New Life. But then after a few people bitching about me starting after his self-imposed cut off date for adoptions and taking a look at the story… I realized that with a few more changes, it wouldn't really be his story at all anymore. Just another remake of the books. After all, look at all the crap I had to remove from the original:
1.) I'd cut out all the bad Ranma crap, like facefaulting, the 'demon head attack', Amy's incessant nattering about grandchildren, etc.
2.) Likewise, the creepy fixation the Blacks and Potters have with getting their PREPUBESCENT children together disappeared more thoroughly than Dubya's dignity.
3.) Since the original author never actually EXPLORED the 'shadow mage' concept other than to leave it this giant deus ex that would have been fully written out in the prequel to this story, I've removed it. Harry is still ridiculously powerful and tied to an element, but just not shadow.
4.) Yeah, pretty much everything Japanese was removed. Not just the anime-insertion bits mentioned above, but the random bits of bowing, suffixes on names, spontaneous kimonos, etc.
So… yeah. After all that was gone, what was left was pretty much any time travel fic. A little more work never killed anyone, and got the SilverAegis curse off the fic… so why not?

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     Heavy footfalls sounded against the polished wood floors of the heads' common room, but he didn't look up from what he was working on. The visitor stopped in front of him and he could practically picture her, bushy brown hair more frazzled than usual, the two spots of color high on her cheeks, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him. Hermione Granger was a creature of habit, after all. "Harry James Potter!"

     "That was my name last time I checked, yes." Harry opted not to look up, muggle pen scratching softly against the page of his enchanted journal as he wrote. It was useless to react, he'd come to realize long ago; their discussions never changed and yet she never got tired of trying to fight them one more time with him. "Can I help you with something, Hermione?"

     Grabbing the top of his journal, Hermione tipped it down so she could actually meet his eyes. "Yes. You're going to go get dressed, and then we're an appearance at a party in the Gryffindor common room and you're going to have fun even if I have to slip a few potions in your butterbeer. Now get moving."

     Harry snorted and batted her hand away before raising his journal again. "I don't think so, but you have fun with that. Assuming you stay more than five minutes before dragging Ron off somewhere private."

     He swore he could actually feel the glare that one earned him before she stomped back toward her room.

     As if he was actually going to let himself get dragged to some foolish party. Quidditch season was over for the year, so it was probably someone's birthday or maybe even just a party for the sake of a party. The Gryffindors did seem to enjoy doing that these days and… well, the professors lacked the will to reign in the student body as a whole, seeing as how they'd witnessed death up close when Voldemort marched on Hogwarts in February of that year.

     While he'd lost others over the years… Cedric, Sirius, and a few members of the Order in small battles here and there… that one fight had done almost as much damage to his life and happiness as his second Halloween. Many people had died in the final battle, including his last surviving link to his parents: Remus Lupin. However, Remus wasn't the worst of it. Ginny had died that day as well, mere hours after he'd proposed to her and she'd accepted. Voldemort sure was a sick fuck, Harry mused. Attacking on Valentine's Day.

     Not that it was known as Valentine's Day anymore. Oh no. From now until the wizarding world got bored of him, February 14th would be Harry Potter Day.

     That was the other reason, apart from the loss of people close to him, behind his withdrawal from the world around him. His popularity pushed in on him from all sides now, everyone wanting something from the famous Boy-Who-Defeated-Him. Friendship, courtship… more than a few witches in his age group (and a few whose age ranged out as far as his mother's class at Hogwarts) had even made outright sexual advances, wanting nothing more than to be able to brag about being a notch on their savior's bedpost. It was all quite disturbing in his opinion.

     Ron hadn't taken it too well, either. While their friendship had been on rocky ground since the redhead and Hermione had started dating, it had deteriorated and collapsed completely in the aftermath of Voldemort's demise. Ron had decided he was no longer content to be Harry Potter's sidekick and even though he was recognized for his role in the war, he'd wanted a share of Harry's fame too… fame he had not one iota of claim to. And it'd eaten at him, until the day he finally gave in and walked away from Harry.

     Even Hermione was different in this strange new world of his. She'd gone from a slightly bossy yet caring pseudo-sister to a hideously obnoxious harpy, obsessed with the idea of returning him to 'normal'. And he was pretty sure she had some degree of nymphomania, given the frequency and duration of Ron's visits to the Head Girl's room. Head Girl duties, pleasure reading, and even her precious homework had started to fall by the wayside as of late and Harry knew that if they weren't only three weeks from NEWTs and graduation, Dumbledore and McGonagall would be stepping in to address the matter.

     Harry snorted; hopefully prophylactics were on the NEWTs, because that was about the only thing related to charms or potions Hermione had worked on outside the classroom since… pretty much February.

     He knew that at least for him, though, NEWTs would be no problem. He'd been trained by the best to defeat Voldemort, and his knowledge in every one of his classes was post-NEWT minimum, with his DADA, charms, and transfiguration knowledge reaching out into the realm of 'only half a dozen people alive know some of the spells' territory. No, he dared say passing his NEWTs would be no problem at all. Which was good, because that gave him time for extracurricular things like being Heady Boy and Quidditch Captain, which in turn took his mind off his life.

     After a few refreshingly quiet minutes, Hermione came back out of the Head Girl's room and slammed the door behind her, making Harry look up from what he was doing. Her attire garnered a raised eyebrow from him; he wasn't aware Hermione knew skirts that short existed, much less owned one. He stared pointedly at her bare thigh for a moment before sliding his gaze up to meet her eyes and she flushed slightly. "Ron likes it when I dress like this. Now go get dressed. We're leaving in three minutes."

     "No. Non. Nyet. Nein. Næi. It was nice NOing you. Have I made myself perfectly clear yet, or would you like me to start branching out into some of the really odd languages I learned while training?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and started tapping her foot, causing Harry to roll his eyes. "You're not going to win this, Hermione. I'm not going to the party. Unlike you, I actually take care of my head duties. And I'm not talking about what Ron asks you to do in every dark corner of the school he can manage to drag you into."

     Hermione blushed even darker at the reminder of Harry's seemingly uncanny ability to walk in on her and Ron in compromising positions around the school. Not that he had any desire to, mind you, but when they took to using the entire school as their personal sexual playground… well, he couldn't very well avoid EVERYWHERE out of fear he'd walk in on them. He'd used the Marauder's Map near the beginning of the year to aid in his patrolling, but that'd taken all the fun out of it after a while. Now, walking in on his former best friends was the price he had to pay for the rest of each evening's entertainment.

     It was generally worth it.

     Well, except for that time with Ron, a drunk Hermione, and an equally inebriated Pansy Parkinson. It was going to him take years of therapy or quite possibly an obliviation for him to ever get over walking in on THAT one.

     "Harry." Oh Merlin, the harpy was talking again. Did she ever shut up? "I'm worried about you. You've been so different since you defeated Voldemort. You don't talk to anyone, you don't do anything fun…" Hermione sat on the arm of his chair, putting her hand over his. "This isn't what she would have wanted for you, Harry."

     White hot fury burned through Harry's veins, so violent that he momentarily feared that Voldemort was back and emotions were leaking through his scar again. Then he realized that his occlumency barriers were still at full strength and it was his own rage at Hermione. "Ginny has been dead for three months, Hermione. THREE MONTHS. I loved her. We had just gotten engaged that very day, and Voldemort tore her apart in front of me for his own sick amusement. And then… then I tore him from the fabric of reality in revenge. He didn't die or anything; I made him cease to exist. And yet when I was done with that… Ginny was still gone. So no, Hermione, don't try and tell me what Ginny would have wanted. Because what she would have wanted for me doesn't matter. She's dead. And despite all the power I have at my fingertips… I can't change that. I can't bring her back."

     "Harry…"

     Harry shook his head, looking down at his journal for a moment before realizing he wouldn't be getting any more work done tonight and closing it. It wasn't just any journal; the pages were filled with potions recipes, spell variations he'd personally created, and other things he felt that the outside world didn't need to know about magic. Each page had a snake printed across the top in deep green ink, enabling him to switch to parselscript when he made entries. Anyone other than him would just see squiggles on a page, assuming they even got the journal open without being killed by his rather… fierce… protections. "Just… stop trying, Hermione. I'm going to go start rounds. Try to keep to either Ron's room or the Head Girl's room tonight. I'm getting tired of having to explain certain entries on the point deduction log to Professor McGonagall." Without waiting for a response, he shrunk his journal and stuffed it into a pocket before making his way out the portrait hole and into the hall.

     After his rounds were done, taking longer than they would have if Hermione was still pulling her weight, Harry made his way out on the grounds, crossing the lawn to sit atop a hill that looked down on Hogsmeade. He was allowed to leave the castle whenever he wanted to because… well, he wanted to. It wasn't like anyone could stop him. Not many would try, either, not after he'd killed the entire Inner Circle before tearing Voldemort from the fabric of reality and sending him into the great beyond with a spell that even Albus Dumbledore had publicly admitted he did not know.

     Snape and both male Malfoys had died before the final battle, though. Harry smirked. He'd seen to that personally.

     Suddenly remembering what day of the week it was, Harry drew his secondary wand and rolled it between his fingers. The same length as his original holly and phoenix feather wand, this one had been gifted unto him by Dumbledore himself, who had in turn received it from his mentor, who had in turn received it from his mentor, and so on. None had been able to make the wand of oak and dwarf heart tissue so much as shoot a spark, the strange metal that wrapped the shaft in almost organic tendrils growing uncomfortably hot to the touch whenever they tried. But Harry not only could use the wand… but had unlocked its other secrets.

     Focusing, Harry watched as the wand grew, getting almost twice as long and thickening to form a proper handle. At the same time, the metal flowed up to the tip and formed into the fat head of a warhammer. Harry hopped to his feet, thrusting the hammer up into the sky, and then his body disappeared from the grounds as lightning did the impossible and surged upward from the ground into the night sky.

     At almost the same time, five hundred miles away in the town of Godric's Hollow, a single bolt of lightning shot down out of the cloudless night sky. It hit a spot just outside the long burnt and abandoned remains of the Potter home, scorching one of the stones of the walkway and leaving a teenage boy in its wake. It was time, just as Harry did every week since her death, for him to visit Ginny's grave.

     Breaking ranks with every Weasley in the last five hundred years, Ginevra Molly Weasley had been buried in the Potter Family Cemetery, along with fellow outsider Remus Lupin and an empty casket representing Sirius Black's remainsless death. Her parents hadn't protested the action, thankfully; Harry and Ginny had been engaged (albeit for hours) and the family felt honored that Harry felt so strongly about their daughter that he wanted her buried alongside his parents.

     Now, standing there in front of her grave, Harry brought the hammer down and let loose a blast of pinkish-red lightning from the head. Rather than being a herald of destruction, though, the lightning crawled over the ground and left dozens of perfect, blood red roses in its wake. Returning his secret weapon to its wand form and tucking it away, Harry sank to his knees and stared at the headstone that marked the grave of his beloved.

     "I hope Dumbledore is right and death is the next great adventure, because I'd hate to think you're as bored as I have been lately." Harry chuckled, tracing his fingers over the letters carved into the granite. "Haven't talked to your brother in weeks, unless you count him arguing about it when I take points from him for public indecency. The harpy came after me again tonight… wanted me to go to some party. I would have Bat-Bogeyed her, but it'd remind me too much of you. Neville's already getting work offers from a few famous greenhouses, which is helping take the stress off NEWTs for him."

     Harry paused for a moment before deciding to share the next bit, lips curling up at the thought of a certain blonde who'd managed to secure an increasingly important spot in his life. "Luna's still crushing on me and shows up in the oddest places, but she's a real friend and I don't have many of those anymore so I guess I'm stuck with her. She doesn't try to make me talk like Hermione, and it's really nice to be able to talk as much or as little as I want to without being psychoanalyzed for it. And there's something actually flattering about her being interested in me, unlike the fan girls. Although I wish you and Luna hadn't tagged along with Hermione for that lingerie shopping expedition at the start of her slag phase. Do you know how hard it is to resist a pretty girl in frilly knickers and nothing else, waiting for you in your bed?"

     Pausing, Harry thought about what he'd just said. "Wait, she probably got the idea from you. After all, that's how you finally got me to loosen up and shag you. Huh. I am really ashamed for not figuring that one out sooner."

     Sprawling out atop Ginny's grave, Harry rolled onto his back and stared up at the stars. "I just wish you were here. My parents died… Sirius died… Remus died… you died… if I get too close to Luna, she'll probably die too. What's the point of having all this power if I can use it to save strangers but not the people I love? I know it's not supposed to be… but life isn't fair. And I hate it."

     Silence fell as he continued to stare, plenty of thoughts in his head but no way to verbalize them easily. He noticed a few shooting stars burning past overhead and, as stupid as he knew it was, wished he wasn't so alone anymore. Looking around, he waited for a moment for Merlin or someone to pop up with a resurrected Ginny or parents who loved him or something… but it was not to be. Snorting and feeling immensely stupid, Harry closed his eyes and relaxed. He technically couldn't stay off-grounds overnight… but who was going to say anything? He was Harry Potter.

     As drifted off, Harry thought he felt an odd falling sensation… but that was just ridiculous, because he was already lying on the ground.

     Right?

********************

     When Harry woke up the next morning, he was exhausted. And not 'had a tough time sleeping' exhausted or 'Voldemort was sending me dreams of torturing muggles' exhausted. It was a bone deep weariness that had him utterly confused; he hadn't done anything worthy of that kind of achiness at all lately, much less in the last day or so. Then he looked around and noticed something was different.

     Belay that… everything was different.

     The grave he'd been lying on was gone, as were the flowers he'd laid around it for Ginny. Looking around wildly, Harry realized that not only was her grave gone, so was Remus's. And both his parents'. "If this is some kind of sick joke, I'm going to kill the person responsible in a way so painful, Voldemort would have watched on in awe!" That made him aware of another change: his voice sounded far, far younger and higher-pitched than it should at his age. Slowly, he looked down at his body and realized his voice wasn't the only thing younger than it should have been. "What the bloody hell?"

     After taking a few minutes to calm down and examine his body, Harry had come to the conclusion that… he had no idea what the hell was going on. For some bizarre reason, he was roughly ten again. He was still wearing his school uniform and black robe, although they were both understandably a bit too big for him in his current state. With a flick of his wrist, his regular wand jumped to his hand and he waved it over his body, shrinking them to fit properly. Even more interesting, his magic was still at it's seventeen year-old levels even though he was young again, making him wonder if he was just at his full growth now or if he'd now grow even stronger than he had before.

     Debating what to do next, he decided assessing his surroundings was a good idea and made a beeline for the more populated areas of Godric's Hollow. It was a bit more active than any other time he'd been there, but then again he hadn't visited it during the day except for a few times during the war while he was searching for horcruxes. The people all greeted him politely, which wasn't odd, but the fact that they didn't bug him for autographs or ask why their hero was ten years old again was.

     Curiouser and curiouser.

     A strange urge drew him back up the street, heading for where the remains of his parents' home would be. It was set back from view behind a row of trees, a narrow path providing access, but just as Harry stepped onto the path a person tackled him, sending both of them to the ground. While his powers were harder to use without his secondary wand in his hand in either its wand or warhammer form, he could still do so and he was was preparing to send a lethal jolt of electricity through his attacker when he remembered something. He'd killed all the Death Eaters. This had to be an overenthusiastic fan, because nobody would be stupid enough to attack him, especially in broad daylight and in so simple a fashion. He looked up at the person on top of him and froze.

     Ginny?

     No, her eyes were the wrong color. They were his eyes. His mother's eyes. What the hell kind of trick was this? Then she opened her mouth and really floored him. "Harry! Where were you? Mummy and Daddy have been searching all over for you! Do you know how worried we’ve been?" Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes.

     Harry was shocked. What the hell was this girl talking about? Seeing that she was about to cry, he immediately reached out and pulled her in for a hug. He didn't know why he was hugging the random lunatic who thought she was related to him (and it wouldn't be the first time he'd had a 'long lost relative' pop up now that he had defeated Voldemort and there was no longer a lunatic gunning for those closest to him), but it felt like the right thing to do. Especially since he was pants at dealing with crying girls. When he let go and she pulled back, he found himself the recipient of a look he couldn't decipher. "Are you okay?"

     "I'm fine, Harry, but where have you been? You've been missing since yesterday!" The girl bounced on him before hopping off and yanking him to his feet. "Mummy and Daddy have been really worried, and they've even had Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus help search the woods. Daddy and Uncle Sirius had to take the day off from work…" Harry's brain froze, and he tuned out the rest of her almost Hermione-esque rant.

     Uncle Sirius?

     Uncle Remus?

     This was just getting weirder and weirder.

     "Don't worry, I'm fine. See? Why don't we go back to our parents?" Harry didn't know what was going on, but maybe she'd lead him back to her real parents and he could make sure she got help. Instead, she grabbed his hand and pulled him down the path toward his familial home.

     While the similarities in appearance between her and his dead mother were disturbing, something else was bothering Harry. Even if she was mentally ill, that didn't explain how she knew about Sirius and Remus. While Sirius's connection to the Potters and Harry in particular had mentioned a few times in interviews, the fact that Remus was anything more than a former professor had never made it into publication as far as he knew…

     "Hey Harry!" He looked over at her, letting out a vaguely affirmative noise. "Where'd you get the cool outfit? You look like the pictures of Mummy and Daddy from back when they were in Hogwarts."

     Crap. Harry didn't know how to respond to that one. Or how to explain it when he got 'home', assuming there were adults there to continue this charade. Too bad he hadn't thought to transfigure his outfit before wandering out of the graveyard. And he couldn't whip out his wand and do magic in front of this girl, especially since he was looking roughly ten these days and it would raise far too many questions. He comforted himself with the fact that at least they weren't the basilisk hide battle robes he'd worn in the days leading up to his final confrontation with Voldemort. Those would have been far, far worse to try and explain. "Uhh…" Thankfully, something came along to save him in the nick of time.

     "HARRY!" He looked over just in time for another body to slam into him, this one bigger and pulling him in for a hug instead of bowling him over like his 'sister' had. As she cried on his shoulder, he pushed up on his toes to see past her and watched a small herd of people surge out of a house that shouldn't be standing on his property. A twin of the redhead who had pounced him, a boy who looked like a younger version of himself but with hazel eyes, then two much smaller girls who were definitely related to the boy. The last one out was a face Harry knew he shouldn't be seeing, causing him to shove the redhead away in shock.

     "Harry?" His long-dead mother, albeit a version older than any he'd seen in pictures, was standing in front of him. With her was a man who bore a suspicious resemblance to his father and a small herd of children, including one who referred to Sirius and Remus as uncles.

     There was a crack behind him, and Harry whirled around to face the newcomer. "Hey! You found the squirt!" A very much alive, young, and healthy Sirius reached forward to ruffle his hair. "Does that mean we can stop searching?" Harry looked back at the two adults who resembled his parents, who nodded their assent. "I'll go tell Amy and we can bring the kids over for lunch." And before he could return his attention to Sirius, his godfather disappeared with another crack.

     That left Harry with these strange people who looked like his parents and what would have to be his siblings if this was all true. And if it was true, this was definitely the weirdest thing he'd ever experienced since coming to the wizarding world… and he'd experienced some pretty weird things. After a long moment of silence, his 'father' exploded. "Harry! We've been looking all over for you! You didn't come home at all yesterday, disappeared overnight… do you know how worried we've been?"

     Even though he wasn't sure what was going on… if this somehow was his family, miraculously back from the dead or somesuch, Harry didn't want to be off on the wrong foot within the first five minutes of knowing them. He'd always wanted a chance to meet his parents and now he'd been given it. Well, it was a version of his parents, at any rate. Close enough, though, and he wasn't going to mess it up. So, ducking his head, he shuffled back and forth a bit. "I'm sorry, Dad." Silence fell and Harry looked up, finding everyone staring at him oddly. "What?"

     Almost in unison, all seven of them spoke up. "You never apologize."

     Harry didn't know what to do with that one; was he a little shit like Draco Malfoy in this bizarre world? Merlin, he hoped not. Especially if he was so bad he tormented his own family. A long moment of thought didn't provide a way to respond to that, so he just shrugged and his father sighed. "Anyways, let's get back inside. And son, next time you want to camp out or something, telling me. We can go together. I've got a wizarding tent in the attic and everything."

     Camping with his father. Such a thing had previously been confined to his wildest dreams. Harry nodded and gave the man a small smile. "Okay… Dad." It didn't feel as awkward that time. Maybe he was starting to accept that the whole thing might be real, and these people might be his parents and siblings?

     He must have been known for being flighty because almost as soon as they entered the house (one a good deal larger than the home his parents had lived in, which was understandable given they had five other children he supposed), his father gave his mother a peck on the cheek and then he and all the other kids wandered off to do other things. That left him alone with his mum. "Harry, dear, what's wrong? You look… I don't know, out of it?" Reaching forward, she put her hand on his forehead to check his temperature. "Well at least you're not getting sick. That time you brought home dragon pox and infected all your siblings at once was a nightmare."

     "Err…" How did one explain that they were seeing their mother, their sixteen years dead mother, for the first time? And that it was hard to handle?

     Then his mother noticed the same thing his sister had and gasped, running her hands over his shoulders. "And why on earth are you dressed like a Hogwarts student already? Where did you get these?"

     The attic. They had an attic. "The attic?"

     Right answer, Harry discovered, when his mother sighed before shaking her head fondly. "That'll teach your father and I to be such packrats, I suppose. Well, go change into something that's actually yours while I get lunch ready, okay? Leave them in your hamper with the rest of your dirty clothes and I'll bring them back up to the attic after I do laundry this week."

     Harry nodded, dashing up the stairs he had seen upon entering the house and quickly finding his room on the second floor. An in-depth analysis of his surroundings could wait, he decided, using magic to restore his journal before tucking it away between the mattress and box spring and throwing his uniform into the hamper. Maybe it was all a dream and he'd wake up any minute. If that was the case, though, he wanted to spend as much time getting to know these people as possible because they were the closest he'd ever get to being with his parents. Throwing on a t-shirt and slacks, he made his way back downstairs and into the kitchen.

     They had a really nice home, he realized, lived in like the Burrow but bigger and obviously more expensive. But nowhere near as grand and cold as Malfoy Manor. It was in a word, perfect. Sitting at the kitchen table, watching his mother bustle around making lunch (had he really slept the morning away?), Harry realized the only reasonable answer to the question of what was going on, assuming of course that this wasn't some sort of dream or hallucination. He had somehow managed to slip diagonally through time, not only moving backwards but to an alternate universe as well. That's why he was younger, surrounded by a family that shouldn't be… at least not in his world.

     He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of his mother's voice. "Harry, what's wrong? Usually you'd be out back flying your broom with your father and Lawrence, or learning how to play new pranks on the girls and I. You're awfully quiet, too. Are you sure you're okay?"

     Harry nodded, still uncertain enough in this strange new world to be leery of answering. Maybe he could try… "I want first dibs on lunch, so I figure if I hang out with you, I'll get the best bits all for myself." He grinned and rubbed his hands together greedily, which made his mother laugh before turning away to face the counter again.

     Waiting until his mother was completely distracted with assembling a giant pile of sandwiches to accompany the soup on the stove, Harry held out his hand and summoned what looked like a photo album to him. It was, thankfully, and he began to flip through the pages, soaking up names and important events. This would help immeasurably as far as surviving in the house. He now knew the names of his siblings: Jasmine and Rose were the twins and nine, Lawrence was his sole brother and eight, then four year-old Dahlia, and three year-old Violet was the baby of the family.

     Looking at the dates under the array of pictures showing each of their births, Harry realized something about him and his siblings. Within the span of three years, his mother had given birth to him, then twin sisters, then his younger brother. Irish quadruplets. Sweet Merlin, didn't these people know what a contraceptive charm was?