"ARE YOU CRAZY!? Have you gone MENTAL?!" Ron shrieked at the top of his lungs, throwing his hands up in the air and his right eye twitching.

"Maybe, Ron…" Harry said in relative quiet. He couldn't help but add a sheepish grin though. If Ron thought his plan was outrageous, then it really must be a doozy.

They were in the newly rebuilt Burrow living room, on the afternoon of a particularly rainy day. Harry and Hermione were staying over with the rest of the surviving Weasley clan until they got on their feet. It had been a tough year after the War ended, and the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts was fast approaching. It would be the first year in over a millenia that the school of witchcraft and wizardry would not open her doors. Repairs were still underway, and the special wards that needed to be restored took months to reach full strength. No one was quite sure actually, as they were among the oldest in wizard history, many developed just for the school and used only once—by the Founders themselves.

At any rate,the entire Wizarding world was in repair as well. Things were no longer a hustle and bustle, but slow recovery and healing. Diagon was as dim as her dark sister alley, Knockturn, and the vibrant colors of their world had turned to melancholy greys. McGonagall said it was because so many were still in mourning. Magic had a habit of reflecting emotion, she said.

Presently, Hermione stood on their side, hands on her hips and an undecipherable look on her face. She had some circles around her once lovely caramel eyes, and Harry knew that his best friends suffered from the same nightmares that plagued him in the dead of night. In fact, he knew it from experience. It had only been the last few weeks that the three had become comfortable sleeping in different bedrooms. After camping together for almost a year, they just hadn't felt safe being far from one another. They had been conditioned over months to be alert and fearful, you see. Sleep was a luxury, and safety a gift. It was often that Molly Weasley found them in the living room, Ron and Harry on makeshift beds on the floor and Hermione on the couch, a small blue flame of hers in a jar glowing on the coffee table. Sometimes, George would join them when Percy was off on Ministry business.
Oddly enough George had clung to Percy after Fred was killed; though nothing could replace Fred, it did George some good to bond again, however little. And Percy had mellowed a great deal after the War. He had realized for a long while now that family was precious.

Luckily today was a day everyone was out for some reason or other except the three of them and a certain guest Harry had invited. Harry had planned it this way.

"Calm dow—" Draco Malfoy said, with a careless wave of a silky dark green glove. Ronald cut him off with a freckled finger of his jabbed right in the blonde's face. Draco was Harry's unannounced guest. He wasn't in a particularly good mood as when he had called upon their residence (their Floo was secure from most if not all fireplaces these days) Ron had laughed in his face, slammed the door shut and left him standing in the rain until Harry happened by twenty minutes later and saw him scowling from the window.

"SHUT it, Malfoy."

"Merlin, Weasel, I'm only trying to help you." Draco sniffed, a flicker of his once vibrant silver eyes flashing with strength of his youth. He wasn't even twenty yet, same as the Trio, but along with them he had lost much of his youth because of the last few years.

"Help me? Bloody twit, where was your 'help' at the beginning of the war?!" Ron said with a mirthless laugh. Draco narrowed his pale silver eyes. Harry sighed and wiped his face with a hand. Hermione still remained quiet but looking on with worried but bright eyes. She often kept things to herself now, as she had nothing more to prove and was confident and secure in her knowledge. She had gained a quiet intelligence and wisdom that would impress even Snape, had he still been alive.

"Try to get it through your thick peasant skull—The. War. Is. Over." Draco enunciated every word, standing deadly close in Ron's face, making the red-head turn a shade of purple that Harry mused rivaled his old Uncle Vernon's. The two purebloods stood there, breathing deeply at one another, but silence fell like a cold blanket. Until Harry spoke up.

"Not for everyone…" He murmured. The others turned to look at him.

"The War is everywhere we look." Harry continued, failing to meet the on looking eyes he felt on himself as he spoke. "It's still fresh in our minds. When we look at something we thought would last forever…" Ron chanced a look at a photograph of them during First year hanging on the wall, Hogwarts in the background, tall and untouched by war and death…

"When we see history repeating itself, though we tried everything to stop it."

Hermione thought of Andromeda and Teddy, and the child who would never know his parents except by the stories of others, quite like another boy she knew…

"When we look in the mirror."

George saw who he missed every day. Every time he looked in his reflection. It was his own Mirror of Erised, Ginny would say quietly when Harry mentioned how worried he was over the surviving twin's quietness. They were lucky he was strong enough not to be overcome by grief. Most days at least…

"When we realize who we had…" Harry's voice cracked here, "But it was too late…"

Here Harry's thoughts went backto months ago…

He had received an answer to an owl he had sent Headmistress McGonagall, an answer he did not like one bit. He Flooed over immediately, making the witch startle and wield her wand with surprising quickness. He found himself in the ruins of Dumble-no, the Headmaster/Headmistress' office of Hogwarts.

Who was he kidding? It would always be Dumbledore's.

This was also the first time since, well, forever, he had a wand pointed at him and he with none in his own hands. His Holly remained in his back pocket of his worn jeans. The Elder wand lay safe and sound bundled in his Invisibility Cloak in his old school trunk (which had survived somehow through everything).

"Harry James Potter!" Minerva squeaked, her silvering bun disheveled in her fast movement. Harry stared blankly at her, and she stared back before narrowing her eyes.

"How did your first class with me begin, Mr. Potter?" Minerva asked in a voice that sounded in her old teaching tone, when she quizzed in class on a particularly hard but vital topic.

Harry had blinked but relaxed, remembering the day well.

" Ron and I were late and you were still in your animagus form. Ron thought you were brilliant when you changed in midair, even after that bit of tongue lashing about tardiness." Harry smiled, blushing still at the thought of his eleven year old self getting into trouble the very first day of school.

McGonagall lowered her wand and smiled kindly, straightening her bun and stepping over a pile of parchment left on the floor. Harry felt relief at passing the test (there were still a few stragglers about that remained loyal to the Dark Lord's cause and precautions were needed…and it was instinct now to take them), and he too stepped over piled of rubbish and damaged goods to welcome Minerva's embrace.

"Still 'Professor' is it?" She said in her thick Scottish accent and with a warm but tired smile.

Harry merely blushed again. "I probably won't ever be able to call you just…Minerva. Ron'll have fits if he found out." Harry chuckled.

"Indeed, well, it's open for the three of you, hmm?" Harry grinned at that. The past few months Harry, Ron and Hermione had been helping fix up things when they could…and when it didn't hurt so much. And their old teachers who were left kept insisting on them calling them by their first names. It was a bit surreal for Harry. They viewed him as equal and he still felt like an awkward Firstie.

"What can I do for you do be in such a rush up here? It'd be a great deal better kept had I started up sooner…but I've…I've left it…(she sighed here)…finally girded my loins and started on…this." She waved an arm to encompass the crumbling tapestries and torn portraits, the broken knick-knacks and burned carpeting. It was rather off-putting to see the office in such a wreck. Even when he had that horrible outburst, it hadn't been this completely destroyed. And Dumbledore had the skill to repair it all to perfect shape.

Thinking of Dumbledore made Harry look about for his portrait. He smiled to himself as he saw his old headmaster snoozing in a comfy chair with purple doilies.

"I got your owl." Harry managed to say from his deep thoughts.

Minerva sighed. "I know then why you're here. But there's no way, Mr. Potter, as he had abandoned his post upon his…passing…"

Harry turned to her and Minerva was taken aback by how much life remained in his emerald green eyes. He held an age far beyond his years and yet his eyes…they spoke volumes of pain and anguish but also of truth and hope. It wasn't often Harry had this look nowadays, and she was impressed that on this particular subject he would feel so strongly.

"I realize that Professor…but…he deserves it." Harry simply said.

"I know, my dear child." Minerva said quietly."If it were up to me, I would allow it as swiftly as possible."

"I'll have a talk with the Board then. For once I'll actually use my fame to do some good. Hermione's still got that Skeeter woman's number if it comes to that." Harry said in all seriousness.

Minerva smiled again, seeing that old determination in her little lion.

"I wish you luck then and await your owl."

Harry nodded and was about to step out onto the Floo when he suddenly stopped and put a hand on the mantle, as if what he were about to say required him to gain extra support.

It took him a moment to work up the courage to ask, and when he did he never turned back to see how it was received.

"Do you miss him?"

He was met with a quiet as he knew McGonagall would need to form an answer.

"I miss them both." She finally said, a tremor in her voice. "I will always regret that last meeting with Severus. Looking back I see the things he did as they were. He was protecting us all while looking for you, to warn you. But we were all so blinded by distrust…I was blinded." She shook her head and sighed again. "He didn't help matters with his demeanor and sharp tongue over the years. He was just so…so bloody good at his job. Kept us guessing till the very end." She laughed softly, as if recalling fond memories of Snape's melancholy attitude and unfortunate role as teacher/spy. "Severus and Albus will be sorely missed."

Harry's heart clenched and he nodded then was swept away by the green flames.

…

Harry shook his head free from the relatively fresh memories. He didn't need to think about when he actually met Snape's portrait…not now. He needed his mind clear for what he was about to propose.

"Harry's right." Hermione said somewhere far away. Draco snapped his fingers in his face and Harry snapped back to reality.

"You can't be serious, 'Mione! You're the sensible one!" Ron gasped.

"Look, if we have a shot, then let's do it. If we can save the ones we loved…do things right the first time…maybe the War will never have happened. There are scars we all have to live with…scars we should never have had." At this, Hermione rubbed the scar on her forearm where Bellatrix had carved out 'mudblood' in her skin, making a magical scar that would never fully heal. Draco glanced at it and if possible paled even further and looked away. He caught himself touching his left arm, shuddered and let both arms fall limply to his sides.

Ron looked from Harry to Hermione and then Draco, as if searching for a sane person amidst the insane. His blue eyes narrowed however as they lingered on the lanky Slytherin.

"You talked Harry into this, didn't you?" He accused.

"I certainly did not!" Draco replied in a scandalized tone. "Potter…well, we've been talking—"

"'Talking?'" Ron repeated. Harry winced as he was sure he heard some tone of hurt there.

"Yes, is there an echo?" Draco snided back.

"YOU—" Ron began to bellow as Hermione put a hand on his chest, shushing him and Harry stepped in between his best friend and their former enemy.

"Yes, Ron. At the ministry. You know Draco and his father have been helping us search out former supporters of Riddle. We've been paired up more than once and we got to talking…about what happened. Why we all did what we did…" Harry calmly explained, putting his hands on Ron's arms and making his friend look him in the eyes. "He wishes us well—"

"Malfoy wanted Hermione dead in second year, he said so himself!" Ron accused, making Draco widen his eyes in surprise.

"You remember that?" He asked, a tremble in his voice Ron was surprised to hear.

"That was a million years ago, Ronald." Hermione said softly, rubbing the small of his back to calm him.

"But a death wish just the same." Ron replied.

"I was twelve!" Draco almost yelled back in fright. He was clutching his robes and looked extremely pale now, paler than normal. This made Ron stop his train of thought for a moment.

"What's got into you?"

"What's…? Merlin's beard, do you not realize what they'd do to me if the Ministry found out I said that?" Draco almost whispered. Ron blinked at that, thrown off kilter.

"It was because of Potter's testimony that my mother helped him….and…and yours that I did not turn him in when I had the chance back at the manor….that kept me out of Azkaban. I owe you three my life in more ways than one! Why would I destroy my only saviors in this world?" Draco said through closed but pained eyes. He was wringing his robes, causing wrinkles. Something very un-Malfoy-like to do.

"And I'm sorry I said that, Weasley…Granger…. I was young and didn't know what it truly meant…"He opened his eyes again after silence followed his statement. He saw Hermione's gaze soften, Harry's sad but believing and Ron's gobsmacked.

"There was a lot I didn't understand back then. I learned it the hard way. As did we all I imagine." Draco continued, his voice low and eyes staring at nothing.

"Well, I honestly don't see how this can even work, regardless of the madness that is your plan, Harry." Ron huffed. Harry grinned, knowing his best friend had just reluctantly accepted Draco's apology.

"Draco and me—" Harry began but was interrupted.

"Draco and I, Potter." Draco corrected absently. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Will you shut it for two seconds?" Ron snapped. Draco folded his arms but obliged.

"Draco and I have worked out all the details. After altering Hermione's old time turner—" Harry was again cut off.

"My time turner?" Hermione gasped. "But I thought all of them had been destroyed—"

"Not yours. The one from third year. McGonagall found it in a cracked safe of knick-knacks Dumbledore had saved over the years. She said he most likely kept it because of what we did with it that year. It was sentimental to him because of us and Sirius." Harry explained.

"I for one thought Potter was joking when he first told me that story." Draco said with a wry smile. "It explained a few things though."

"Boy, we sure could have used a time turner a few times over the years." Ron said sadly, shaking his head.

"Hence why we're here now." Draco drawled, but it wasn't mocking, but oddly gentle.

Ron sighed, "So, you two altered it. How?"

The two in question shared a look and then Draco took over.

"At first we had hoped to…go very far back…to before the Dark Lord murdered the Potters." Ron glared at the 'the dark lord' bit.

"But it's just not possible. The magic we're using now on this is stretching it already. Time turners are meant only to go back minutes, hours…a few days at most." Draco continued, and Hermione looked like her old curious self listening to his theory that Ron hadn't the heart to interrupt him.

"So, if we can't stop Voldemort from marking Harry, or even from him making any horcruxes, then how far back can we go?" Hermione asked, scared the answer may be more recent than she'd like.

"We're thinking between second and third year, possibly." Harry murmured.

"That's a heck of a big gap there, Harry." Ron replied.

"Oh but that's perfect!" Hermione said excitedly. "Voldemort hadn't come back yet…but we'd become friends already…oh it's wonderful!"

"Not for Ginny." Ron grumped and Hermione tinged pink at forgetting about the almost fateful end of the youngest Weasley second year. "On Ron, I didn't mean—"

"It's okay. I know. Besides, maybe we can stop it? If we go back far enough?"

"Maybe. But I'll still have to kill that Basilisk." Harry grimaced. Draco groaned.

"I forgot about that." The blonde moaned.

"It wasn't as if you were there the first time, Malfoy." Ron glared.

"Doesn't mean the entire school hadn't heard all about it the next day, Weasley." Draco shot back.

"Oh, but…we'd have to be careful regardless…we can't let our past-selves see us!" Hermione gasped, suddenly remembering.

"Oh we took care of that too." Draco waved nonchalantly.

"Excuse you." Ron glared again, stepping closer to Harry.

"Well, we did." Draco huffed. Honestly, that Weasley was possessive of his friends. Hmph.

"Um, well, you know how real time just plays out once you go back?" Harry asked, and his friends nodded. "Well, we decided that instead of complicating things with doubles of ourselves, we'd try something along the lines of displacement….or rather, replacement."

"Oh, but how could that work? Where would our younger selves go? Even you can't pass for a firstie anymore, Harry." Hermione smiled teasingly, though a spark of sadness underlay somewhere there.

"Well, what I mean is…we'll be replacing ourselves permanently."

"WHOA, we can't kill ourselves!" Ron freaked out.

"It's nothing so underhanded, you fool. We developed a kind of magic that is stronger than simple displacement charms. When we turn the time turner, it will locate our magical signatures and transport our consciousness into our respective younger bodies. It's like a port key in a way." Draco explained.

"No…that means…Harry, you'll be a horcrux again!" Hermione gasped.

"We don't know that for sure, Granger. The spell is tricky. It not only replaces but fuses certain elements rather than simply doing away with them." Draco replied.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked, exasperated.

"It means that there's a chance the spell won't allow the part of my young self with the horcrux to fuse to me, so it'll be erased in a way. It's complicated to explain..." Harry shrugged. "All I know for sure is that our memories will be intact."

"This is so risky Harry. I can't see you die again…" Hermione welled up with tears now.

"Hermione…" Harry took her in his arms. "It's worth it, isn't it? Everyone who died…they'll be alive. It's a price I'm willing to pay if I can see them alive and safe, and keep them that way." Here Ron took both his smaller friends in his arms and they held each other as Hermione gave soft sobs into Harry's chest.

Draco stood to the side, head bowed and staring at his shoes, feeling out of place and a certain emptiness envelop him.

After a moment the trio gently unfolded, Harry wiping his own eyes under his bulky glasses, Ron muttering about something having gotten into his own.

"Well, are you three done with your water works? I'm quite ready to get this over with." Draco said, but Harry noted his discomfort and perhaps even fear.

"Draco, you'll be okay, alright? We'll convince your family to join the Light sooner. Somehow we will." He put a scarred hand on Draco's shoulder, the blonde amazed that Harry knew what he was nervous about. His father would be at the height of following the Dark Lord during the time frame they'd be going back. Convincing him would be difficult. His mother, hopefully, not so much.

"Okay, so I think I've got most things straight on all this. But what do we do when we get there? What do we change or stop from happening? Do we tell anyone when we're even from?" Ron rambled.

"I don't know, Ron. We'll have to work on that when we get there and know exactly what we're dealing with. If we're not together when we come out of this, we'll need to establish contact as soon as possible, but remember, do it cryptically. The war has taught us subtly, I suggest we use that to our advantage."

"I think we should also have some sort of code word, to make sure it's us we're talking with. Anything could go wrong…"Hermione suggested.

"Or infiltrate…" Ron growled.

"You've both got a point…" Draco conceded, the pair blinked at that.

"Let's see…" Harry tapped his chin with a finger in thought. "It has to be something significant to us, but that no one else can understand…"

"That narrows it down." Ron rolled his eyes. Draco wondered when the red-head had become so sarcastic/pessimistic.

Ah, the war. That's when.

The four were standing there in a circle of sorts, racking their brains for anything that they could use.

Harry looked up, a bright and gentle smile on his face. "I've got it." He said, and the three facing him waited in the quiet. Harry told them his suggestion for the code word—or rather phrase. Hermione and Ron understood what it meant to Harry, but Draco remained confused. Harry, with a look of wariness from Ron and one of encouragement from Hermione, explained its significance, as simple as possible, to Draco.

"It's fitting really, if you think about it." Harry mused, more to himself.

"It's perfect." Hermione smiled.

Ron clapped Harry on the back and Draco just stood there, looking solemn. It was very unlike him, but then, a lot of his expressions were these days.

"Well, if we're all agreed, then we better go on before we change our minds." Harry sighed, knowing in his own heart he never would.

"If it were up to me, I don't know if I could go through it all again. I'm tired, Harry." Ron said wearily, and Harry knew he meant a deeper fatigue than that of exertion. Harry could relate. But then, he never was one to quit.

"I am too." Harry agreed. "But I need to save them, Ron. Stop Riddle before he even got started again. I've got the chance and I won't pass it up. But if you want, I…I can go alone."

"NO!" the three announced back in alarm, making Harry jump back in surprise.

"We'd never let you do this alone." Hermione said furiously.

"And you're going to need an ally from the other side." Draco chimed in.

"You need us. Just like we need you, Harry." Ron said in finality. Draco somehow knew Ron didn't particularly include him in that statement. But he wasn't sure why he cared in the first place.

Harry let that ink in for a moment, then Ron spoke again.

"What will happen….to y'know…the family?"

"I researched this magic we're using…"Harry explained, earning a beaming smile from Hermione for that," Long story short, the Ginny, George, Percy…everyone we know now won't really exist. They'll all be restarted like the timeline. In a way, it's better…they won't carry our burdens. And they won't exist in a world we left forever." Harry explained quietly. He was going to miss his Ginny though. They'd gone through so much, and their love was strong. But he knew if it was meant to be, then they'd find each other in that same love again. And he knew they would.

"Alright." Ron gulped, trying to remember the last words he's said to his siblings and parents. He knew he'd see them again soon…but they'd be versions he hadn't seen in almost a decade.

"Ready?" Harry said, a sparkle of light in his otherwise dull green eyes. He held out his hand, the one with Umbridge's scar.

"Ready." Hermione replied, grasping his hand in her own.

"Ready." Ron's voice cracked, placing his larger, freckled hand atop his friends'.

"Ready." Draco whispered, placing his slender gloved hand over Ron's, who flinched at the coldness of Draco's palm, even through the glove.

Harry stretched the gold chain necklace around them all, then with his free hand turned the orb with the click if the buttons on the side. He did this about seven times. Then once more in the other direction to seal the count and let the altered magic take place.

Nothing happened.

They stood there huddled in the room, then Harry let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

He was about to say something when the lights began to flicker. The lights clipped on and off, as if it were a power surge and the flickering became more pronounced and rapid. Bulbs exploded. Vases cracked and broke apart, making Hermione jump and cling to Ron, who had pulled her and Harry against him. Harry linked his arm with Draco's, pulling him into their protective huddle.

The clock to their side began to whir. It had everyone's faces (except Draco's of course). Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's pointed to 'mortal peril', Fred's said 'unknown' (and had been since his death) while the rest pointed to 'abroad'. But now it began to spin, and everyone's pointers began to blur in the movement. Only the trio remained in 'mortal peril'.

Their surroundings began to blur with movement, not unlike what Harry and Hermione experienced in their first time-travelling trip. Gusts of wind seemed to surround them, whipping their hair in all directions. Darkness blanketed the four, with flashes of multicolored light and various flashes of noise no one had time to decipher. Nothing was visible now, and so they each closed their eyes shut, waiting the 'storm' out. Harry felt the floor drop from beneath them and wondered for a second if they were falling. But they stood upright. Soon he felt his grip on Draco and Ron dissolve, and yelled out their names. The last thing Harry remembered was hearing Hedwig's soft hoot and seeing a flash of green light before the darkness swallowed him up.