Summary/Prologue

Then Harry's mouth went completely dry.

His captor struck a tall, imposing figure, black locks neatly framing his aristocratic cheekbones. The relaxed line of his mouth did nothing to soften the furious, slightly maniacal glint in his cool gray eyes, fixed unwaveringly upon him.

"Finally awake… Death Eater?" the man spat spitefully, indignantly, hatefully.

Harry never would have imagined meeting like this.

The words "I can explain" were stuck on the tip of his tongue. But all that came out was a soft, strangled, "Sirius."

(In which Harry accidentally time travels to 1979, is forced to pose as a Death Eater, and is captured by the Order of Phoenix)

2002

"Teddy! " Harry yelled as he searched for the source of his godson's latest explosion, flinching as something fell from Grimmauld Place's long-abused, vaulted ceiling.

He banged open another door, the distinct smell of sulfur immediately flooding his nose. His eyes watered as he finally picked out Teddy Lupin's small form, barely visible behind smoke and a bubbling cauldron.

Harry had been perfectly fine with indulging Teddy's blooming interest in Potions by buying him a "pre-Hogwarts" learner's kit. Heck, he'd been thrilled that his godson was turning out to be such an academic — something Harry himself had always wished he'd been.

But there was only so much a pair of pleading puppy eyes could make up for.

Even if they belonged to the most adorable six-year-old in existence... who was currently in the process of wiping soot from his too-big, circular glasses with the bottom of his shirt. With a small sniff, Teddy perched them back on his nose and nudged them up, blinking his copycat green, bespectacled eyes in Harry's direction. After two years of living with Harry, Teddy had adopted some of Harry's features and resolutely refused to change them, even when it meant catching his drastic case of myopia.

And of course, Harry thought with equal parts fondness and exasperation, Teddy's endearing copycat features and habits always worked like a cheering charm on Harry.

"Harry!" Teddy blurted, his usual curly black hair flashing bright yellow in surprise, before he started stumbling through his usual set of apologies. His small hands gestured animatedly as he assured Harry, with those big green eyes, that "it was an accident" and he would "pinky promise never ever to do that again... "

Harry suppressed a snort. Liar.

"... So pleeeease don't take away my potions," Teddy ended, the adorable pout forming on his face doing absolutely nothing to disguise the slight smugness in his tone. Because Harry had never not forgiven Teddy, being the slight push-over that he was.

Manipulative little troublemaker , he thought fondly. If Harry didn't do something about Teddy's behavior soon, didn't stop spoiling him, the baby Marauder would end up like Malfoy.

He leaned against the door sill with crossed arms, attempting to keep his expression cross. Honestly, how did parents keep a straight face through all the funny shit their kids put them through?

Probably because they're older than twenty-one, a small inner voice informed him, and better at managing their kids.

Harry shoved that inner voice down a ditch.

Yes, he'd been young when he'd taken Teddy in. But it was a choice he'd make a million times over. Teddy was his godson, perhaps the only real family Harry had ever had.

And he was absolutely precious , Harry thought, unable to stop himself from smiling as he marveled at the way Teddy's baby cheeks had puffed out, his small fingers awkwardly clutching at broken glass. His skin was dotted with splotches of what looked like wet sand—

Harry froze.

Wait a second…

"— this cool thing I found in a room I got "access" to because I have Black blood or something. Which is weird because I always thought my blood was just a really dark shade of red —"

"Teddy!" Harry cut in, suddenly panicked. Because Teddy had a tendency to put "cool things" in his potions… which is usually what led to his daily explosion…

But an explosion with time-turning sand meant something entirely different.

Harry narrowed his eyes, feeling the phantom beginnings of a migraine. Of course, Grimmauld Place, former home of the Blacks , would be holding a couple specimens of illegal artifacts that weren't even supposed to exist anymore.

"— and then I thought of adding this golden saAAAH—!" Teddy was cut off as Harry summoned him directly into his arms. "Harry, what are you doing—?"

Harry set Teddy down, kneeled until they were eye-level, and took Teddy's glowing hand. It was speckled with small golden particles. Carefully, he picked up a particle and held it up, addressing Teddy seriously.

"Did you put this sand in the cauldron?"

Teddy hesitated before, slowly but surely, nodding.

Harry's sixth sense began to ring like an alarm bell. He uneasily eyed the bubbling cauldron, which continued give off small bursts.

Well, at least it was a learner's kit so nothing would happ-

A blinding flash starting at the cauldron overtook the entire room as its contents exploded everywhere. Harry's head hit the ground, black spots distorting his vision. The last thing he remembered seeing before falling into oblivion was Teddy falling next to him, curling into himself as blood began to run from his hands.

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Part I

The Death Eaters

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1979

Harry woke up in a large, dark bedroom.

The marbled floor beneath him was cold and black, contrasted by the creamy whiteness of the walls. A deep violet, queen-sized bed was suspended in the air a couple feet away from him.

Vaguely, Harry found a sense of familiarity in the endless series of gothic-style, vaulted ceilings.

He got up and started walking around the room, scanning the clear bedside table and pristine walls. No pictures or posters indicated to whom it all belonged.

His eyes caught on the bedcovers once more, noticing a haze of dust upon them.

Strange. An abandoned bedroom, then?

Before Harry could investigate further, he heard the echo of footsteps down the hallway outside. He disillusioned himself with a flick of his wand and quickly hid in a nearby closet, squinting through a crack between the closet and wall. His heart pounded furiously as he tried to remember where he was… how he'd gotten here…

The murmur of voices grew louder and more distinctive as they came closer.

"... I'll only be here for a little while, Uncle," said a low but unquestioningly feminine voice.

"Oh, Bella!" The man's voice was warm, jovial. "Stay here as long as you like."

The door creaked open to reveal a young, dark-haired woman dressed in an extravagant red dress.

A smile slowly stretched across her face as she observed the room. She was undeniably stunning—high cheekbones complemented her heavy-lidded eyes, framed by elegant curls. And yet, there was something awfully familiar about her, something about her appearance and the amused glint in her eyes that made Harry want to barf and Crucio her at the same time—

Harry abruptly stopped that train of thought, shuddering, shaken and disturbed by his own mind.

The woman turned back to face the man. "Thank you, Uncle. I'll see you at the feast."

Once her uncle had left, she flew her luggage into the room. Harry barely managed to hold back a jerk of surprise as it banged carelessly against the closet he was hiding in.

She entered the room alone, closing the door behind her.

"I know you're there."

Dark eyes flashed dangerously in Harry's direction. He tensed instinctively, his mind racing. The woman's casual tone of voice gave nothing away, complementing the nonchalant way she leaned against the door.

But all pretenses of casualness were ruined by her drawn wand, circling ominously over the closet he was trapped in.

"Reveal yourself, imposter." She spat the last word with burning vitriol, and now her hand was clenching visibly around her wand—as if she were fighting to restrain herself—

With another bang, the closet crumpled inwards before cracking completely, falling to the ground. Harry watched, disillusioned and shielded, as the closet before him disintegrated into little particles. Like dust.

Like sand.

Memories of the cauldron incident hit Harry like a train wreck. The speckles of golden sand stuck to Teddy's hand. Teddy admitting that he'd poured it into his cauldron…

"Harry…"

Time-turning sand.

Harry's eyes widened slowly in realization. And the more he took in his surroundings, the more they seemed to confirm his terrible suspicions.

It had been a learner's kit, for Merlin's sake. And—Teddy. Where was Teddy? Was he okay? Teddy... Teddy…

With worry for his godson at the forefront of his mind, Harry turned his attention back to the woman, barely managing to dodge a spell she threw his way. A second perusal of her had Harry suppressing the urge to shudder in disgust and recognition.

Of course, the first person he met was going to be Bellatrix Lestrange. At Grimmauld Place, in the room that used to be, or will be, Teddy's future playroom.

And where was Teddy now?

An unpleasant feeling bubbled at the bottom of his stomach as he remembered the blood that had been streaming from Teddy's hands. And now Harry couldn't get the image of his small, bloodstained fingers out of his mind, couldn't do anything at all...

Oh God. Teddy.

But before Harry could even start to thinking about what to do, a spell caught him and reversed his disillusionment spell.

Bellatrix's eyes widened as they caught on him, and Harry stared back.

Then she narrowed her eyes at him once more, training her wand at his chest as she approached him. Harry stood his ground and glared back, his own wand pointing back at her.

She stopped, tilting her head contemplatively.

"You must have a lot of courage," Bellatrix's mouth curled viciously. "To walk past the Black wards in," she threw him a disgusted once over, " muggle attire."

Harry gritted his teeth and said nothing. Out of the corner of his eyes, he scanned the room for a hint of light brown hair, small fingers, anything. Briefly, he thought he almost heard the sound of a piano playing from a faraway corner of the Manor.

But Bellatrix continued to look at him expectantly, almost curiously.

"Well?" She demanded, crossing her arms. "How did you do it?"

He blinked in confusion. "What?"

She glowered at him, gesturing impatiently with one of her hands—the one that wasn't training a wand at him. "How did you surpass the Black wards?"

Time-traveling, apparently—

Also, I inherit this property in the future so—

Harry let out an exhilarated, slightly hysterical laugh, running a hand through his hair as he attempted to think of what he could possible say.

Think, Harry. Just keep it simple. Stay close to the truth.

He took a deep breath and said,

"No idea."

Bellatrix glared at him, the tip of her wand beginning to glow threateningly.

He cleared his throat. "I was… I just randomly blacked out and the next thing I knew... " He threw up his hands haphazardly, awkwardly, "I was here."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I would be extremely grateful if you could just let me out…?"

He winced internally. Appealing to Bellatrix's sense of mercy definitely wasn't his strongest idea ever, considering that he knew she had none.

He didn't even know why he was trying—

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "Blacked out? So you're an alcoholic?" Before Harry could protest, she sighed and continued, "As I suspected. Just a poor drunken sod with access to the Black wards," the woman muttered lowly, "Possibly due to being yet another illegitimate offspring of my uncle's."

A wicked grin appeared on her face. "I suppose I should get rid of you before my relatives see you. Or worse, the guests."

Bellatrix began to walk away, expecting Harry to follow. "We can't have someone noticing you in all your... " she eyed his jeans and t-shirt distastefully once more, "muggle glory. Or better yet," she paused, before flicking her wand in Harry's direction and transfiguring his current attire into wizarding-style robes, "there we go."

As he trailed after her, he picked the place apart in search of Teddy, dread pooling in his stomach. The sound of piano grew louder, and Harry began to see its source as he came to the end of the hall, near the top of the staircase. Bright candle lights were floating all over the place, illuminating the shockingly pristine condition of Grimmauld Place. Appetizers were floating between chunks of people, all engaged in conversation.

Having guests over? This was a full-blown party.

One guess what kind of crowd this was.

"You're just… releasing me?" Harry asked, suspicion coloring his voice. It seemed odd, almost too easy that Bellatrix was releasing him without even a single Unforgivable.

As they made their way down the stairs, he tried to keep his mind off the fact he was probably surrounded by at least fifty Death Eaters.

"As much as it pains me to admit," Bellatrix turned back in his direction at the bottom of the staircase, waiting for him with an indecipherable glint in her eyes. "You are undeniably blood-related to a Black, for the wards to have let you in. There is no way an outsider could have penetrated them."

So… she sees me as family? Harry wondered, horrification flooding at the thought as he continued down staircase, unprepared for the deafening creak emitted by the third-to-last step.

Creaaaak. It echoed down the staircase into the ballroom, the loudest distinguishable noise in the entire Manor.

All eyes turned on him.

Someone whispered, "Imposter."

Harry froze.

"And thus," Bellatrix spoke, observing her nails calmly at her place near the staircase. "However improbable, you—dirty little halfblood—pose a threat to the Blacks. One that needs to be dealt with accordingly."

And then there were wands pointing at him from all directions—throwing spells at Harry with a viciousness that had him immediately on the defensive, rapidly backing up the staircase.

Amidst all the chaos, he heard a familiar sob. His breath caught as he followed the sound with his eyes.

Teddy.

A small head peeked out from the middle of the crowd, submerged in a group of larger adults.

"—I SAID, WHERE's HAR—mmmph ," A hand suddenly covered Teddy's mouth, muffling him as another clawed itself around his small wrists.

Anger seizing him, Harry leapt off the staircase and ran forward, dodging a flurry of spells as he pointed his wand at the cloaked figure holding Teddy back.

Expelliarmus!

... Nothing happened. He waved his wand again… and again…

"Expelliarmus!" Harry spoke out loud, frustration teeming in his voice.

That hauntingly familiar giggle sounded from behind him.

"I removed your wand when I transfigured your clothes. What you hold is nothing but a mere twig. "

Bellatrix gazed pointedly at Harry's wand, a darkly malicious glint in her eyes as she smiled, teeth glinting. Her own wand was now trained on Harry, and with a plummeting feeling in his stomach, he realized what he needed to do.

Because the wands that weren't pointing at him were trained on his godson.

"Don't hurt Teddy," Harry said, resisting the urge to beg.

And despite his instincts screaming at him, despite his hatred for the woman next to him—

Harry put his hands up, awaiting punishment at the hands of Voldemort's followers.