As of the 27th of October 2008: This story has been completely re-edited and updated to make it slightly more compliant with the world of Harry Potter. If you are a returning reader, can I suggest you re-read the first three chapters -the third chapter now has over 2,000 more words than it used to- before reading the new chapter. You won't regret it, I can promise you.

If you are a new reader to these parts. I hope you enjoy the show.

Summary: Harry finds a way to change the way the prophecy played out, and goes back to make sure that, this time, there's something at the end of the war worth living for. But with parents telling him what to do this time, will it be all that easy?

Welcome to:

Harry Potter and the Other Child.

Clouds of smoke and ash rolled across the Alley as the young man stalked down it. Years had passed since he'd last been here – the great Diagon Alley massacre of Harry Potter's 7th year- and yet small fires still burnt among the ruined shop fronts.

Harry's eyes couldn't help but glance at the one vivid orange sign that still hung in the window of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, the last resting place of one George Weasley. Fred had followed soon after, grief at his brother's death driving him on quite a few successful suicide missions into the Death Eater infested Albanian forests. Eventually he never came back…

Gripping his wands tighter, Harry continued further down into the Alley, his movement's fluid and practised from years of endless war. His dual wand fighting style a relic from being tutored by Albaforth Dumbledore. The old man's unique style had rubbed off on Harry, but it hadn't spared his life when, last year, Draco Malfoy had led a large force on Albaforth's Hogsmede homestead.

Albaforth had managed to take quite a few of the minions down, but Draco's underhand ways had allowed him to get a clear shot of the old man's exposed back. Harry's retaliation on Draco had put even his attack on Lucius to shame, and at the time, Hermione had estimated that parts of Malfoy senior could be found in 4 different counties.

It had taken him 6 years from that day, and cost him the lives of everyone he held dear, but he had finally tracked down and killed every one of Tom's higher-ranking Death Eaters. With no one to lead them, Riddle's forces were disintegrating around him; even the Dementors had started to turn on the self-imposed Lord.

Harry had just come into some intelligence from one of the few people he trusted, and it could possibly mean that the entire war could come to an end tonight, right here and now. He was in search of the very last of the true Death Eaters, Voldemort himself.

Apparently, with the loss of Greyback and the siblings Amycus and Alecto in the past month, Voldemort had finally decided to let himself be shown at the place where the War had officially started.

No doubt it would involve an ambush…

Not that it would bother Harry. He'd endured and survived so many ambushes over the years, he could literally smell when one was about to happen. He'd also developed the ability to 'sense' other wizard's auras, giving him the distinct advantage in those types of encounters.

Stopping dead and clearing his thoughts for a second, Harry spread out his mind for any other living thing, and couldn't help but smile as he felt the presence of maybe five or six distinct auras hiding just round the next corner. Further on down the alley, clearly staying out the way of the ambush, it was hard to miss the pulsating evil aura that could only be Voldemort.

This was going to be fun!

Coming out of his trance, and with a good mental picture as to where every one of his would-be attackers were, Harry calmly walked round the corner and right into the middle of the ambush. He could literally smell the relief that came off every one of them as they thought they had him.

How wrong they were.

The first shot came from Harry's right, a stunner that wasn't going to connect with Harry in a month of Sundays. Harry had time to wonder where Riddle was getting these followers from before he rolled out the way of a second shot and sent a rather nasty flesh-eating curse that was a favourite of Death Eaters back at him. Although Harry couldn't see the man, his cries of anguish were easy enough to hear to know he'd struck gold.

Then all hell broke loose…

Five voices, all from different directions, yelled a number of different hexes and curses that almost caught Harry of guard. So used to Death Eaters with immaculate aim, that he almost dived into a few of the shots that were off target anyway. Instead, he opted for a rather ungraceful forward flip that landed him on his back. He shot two blasting hexes from this position in two different directions, his duel-wand style paying off once again. The spells landed squarely on the chests of two of his attackers, sending them flying back into the ruined buildings on either side.

Rolling away from a shaft of ice that had erupted from where his back had just been, Harry flipped himself back to a standing position.

"Incendio!" he cried, and dual steams of fire erupted from his wands, enveloping two unfortunate Death Eaters in coats of flame. They ran around screaming for a few seconds, but they both fell to the floor soon enough, silent and very dead.

Harry rounded on the last remaining Death Eater. Up until now, Harry hadn't even taken a look to see what his attackers looked like. He didn't like to look into their faces and see people he recognised fighting him, as had happened too often in the latter years of the war. So it was with a heavy heart that Harry looked up to find a young man that he'd once seen wearing a Ravenclaw robe.

"Liam?" he said with disbelief. Liam Harp, a third year during Harry's seventh, had single-handedly protected almost half of the school's first and second years from a group of Death Eaters during Voldemort's attack of Hogwarts 4 years ago. To see him now standing on the other side of the fence was heartbreaking.

"I…I'm s-so s-sorry…" the 19 year old boy sobbed as he pointed his wand at Harry, "Avada Kedavra…"

Harry didn't even move as the sickly green beam of light missed him by miles. "I'm sorry too," he whispered as he lifted his wand to aim at the boy.

"Stupefy."

The red light hit Liam in the chest, and he fell to the floor with a crumple. Hopefully Harry could revive and talk to him later, once he'd dealt with the big cheese…

Talking of foul smells…

Harry spun on the spot, the vial smell of rotten flesh bringing to his attention the approach of Tom Riddle.

"Merlin! No wonder why you weren't part of the ambush Tom! I would have smelt you a mile off!" Harry quipped.

Riddle's red eyes glowed with anger. The duo had only met a couple of times in the past few years, but it always seemed that Harry ended up on top, something that didn't sit well with the self-styled Dark Lord.

Since the destruction of his horcruxes, the aging wizard had started to slowly decompose in his own body. The one seventh of his soul now down to one sixteenth since he had attempted to re-forge horcruxes as Harry and his followers destroyed them. Apparently one sixteenth was the limit, or maybe Tom was afraid that his body would literally disintegrate if he split his soul any further. The ancient Dark Lord Anubis only knew. The smell couldn't get much worse in any case…

"Then again…" Harry continued, "maybe you should have, the fumes are making me light-headed!"

This was as much taunting as the old man could take.

"Impedimentia!" Tom roared, and Harry had to dive to the side to avoid being blasted back down the Alley.

"Bona Nox!" "Spyd av ls!" Harry yelled in rapid succession, one for each wand. The black jet of shadow arced its way towards Tom, while a brilliant spear of ice flew straight at him.

Voldemort managed to deflect the Blinding hex with a swish of his wand, but as the shaft of ice hit his shield, it split into hundreds of thousands of shards that went straight through the hastily crafted barrier. Tom stumbled back, roaring in pain.

"Insolent fool!" he yelled, his eyes flashing angrily, "Mark my words boy! You will not win this fight!"

Harry found it very hard not to laugh. "Tom, its been years since you actually gave me a good fight." He made a very theatrical look around the alley, "and this time, there's nobody to help you out when you feel like leaving!"

"Why you…" Voldemort raged, "Byakko!"

Harry's eyebrows rose slightly as he dodged the latest curse. Tom wasn't fooling around, that curse severed the all the victim's limbs from their body… including the head…

This was the start of the final battle, the battle that would settle the outcome of the war, the battle that would decide the fate of the UK. What was left of it anyway…

And so, the two greatest wizards of the day started throwing curses at each other in earnest. Blasts of blood red, sickly green, deep purple, along with the faint blue and pink glows of shields as they were struck.

Within minutes it was clear who would come out victorious. Riddle was starting to slow up and make mistakes, his reflexes and endurance not being what they once were.

"Reducto! Pituitae Adsulto! Diffindo!" Harry yelled just as his adversary deflected his last three or four spells wildly. The first was parried away neatly, but Voldemort's eyes flashed with sudden recognition at the second hex. This momentary distraction was enough for the cutting curse to slip through his defences, striking Riddle on the shoulder. The snake-man screamed as his black blood splattered across the old apothecary store front behind him.

"What's wrong Tom?" Harry yelled, taking the time for a breather, "the old bogey bat hex bringing up bad memories?"

Ginny's favourite curse had indeed been one of the few curses to ever hit the Dark Lord, by Ginny in fact. It had been three years ago now, but Ginny had been at the burrow with her mother when Tom had attacked. After tricking Molly through the floo, Ginny sealed it up and went outside to face her old adversary.

It was reported by captured Death Eaters later that she put up a good fight, her Bogey Bat hex was used to great effect to distract Riddle as she destroyed the two horcruxes that the Dark Lord had started to keep on him at all times. If it weren't for the fact that the prophecy clearly stated that Harry had to be the one to kill Voldemort, Harry would have bet that she would have done the deed for him.

They found her two days later, battered and bruised, lying under the remains of the burrow. Further examinations had found her to be 3 months pregnant, something that Harry wished he'd known while she was alive.

Harry's payback on Tom was by totally decimating his garrison at Hogwarts in a fit of rage, including Bellatrix and Roldolphus Lestrange. Not that it made up for the pain that he felt at the loss of his fiancée.

"Just remembering how your lover died…" Voldemort replied calmly, "it was such a big building…"

Harry snapped, "Karsado!" Fast moving orange beams flew out of both wands, the spells so powerful, Voldemort's shield died instantly. The beams hit Tom on the chest and hip, the muscle-destroying spell burning him from the inside out.

Voldemort fell to the floor in a crumple and a scream. Harry stalked forward, both wands trained on the man's heart.

"NEVER speak of her before me!" he roared. For an instant, Harry was sure he saw a flicker of fear in the old wizard's eyes, but it was as fleeting as any remorse that might have been in his heart.

"I've fought for years and lost all those dear to me to get to this point, I will not have you desecrate it by bringing up the evils you've committed!"

"Who says you've beaten me? I've still got my wand boy…" Voldemort panted, pointing his wand at Harry.

"Give it up Tom," Harry said more calmly than he thought possible under the circumstances, "What have you got to live for now? You've practically destroyed Europe in your quest for supremacy, and your forces are all but gone." He gestured at Riddle's beaten and still rotting body, "Even your body is dying, the only reason you're not dead right now is the power of the prophecy stating one of us has to kill the other before we die of natural causes."

Voldemort had the decency to laugh. "What about you then boy? Your home country is a blackened ruin, all your friends are dead, as are your love and unborn child, and even if you kill me, there's a likelihood that someone else will take my place.

"The only difference between us, is that I will die knowing you suffered, and that even if you kill me, your life still wouldn't be worth living. Whereas, you would die knowing one thing... that you'd failed all those who'd believed in you."

He coughed out a laugh, black phlegm dribbling down his chin. "As far as I can see, it's a win-win situation for me." Tom smiled a grim sort of grin, knowing it would infuriate the man before him.

Harry stood frowning at Voldemort's words, hardly believing he was even listening to the twisted figure of a man at his feet. A year ago, maybe he wouldn't have been right. Ron at least would have been alive, as well as a few other friends. Fleur and Bill had only been tracked down a couple of months ago, and he'd lost contact with Remus only last week…

But, as things stood right now, as amazing as it was, Tom Riddle was telling the truth. The only think keeping Harry going since Ginny's death was the drive to kill Voldemort.

To get revenge.

That was three years ago, and although revenge was still at the top of Harry's 'things to do' list, he knew that now it would be a hollow victory…

What was he thinking about?! All his friends had died to get him this far, including Ginny. She'd given her life to get rid of two of the last horcruxes ever constructed, and he couldn't live with the thought that she'd given all that up just for him to fail at the last gate.

His stance hardened, and he locked eyes with Riddle. Something must have shown in his face, because Tom fired out a panicked spell.

"Scipionis Cinifactum!"

Harry hardly had time to register the fact that he'd been hit by something when he had to drop his Holly and Phoenix-feather wand as it turned to ashes in his hand.

Immediately, Harry rolled to the side, avoiding the killing curse that followed the wand-destroying spell, and fired the last spell Tom Marvolo Riddle ever saw.

"Inflamere Pravi!" A wave of fire burst out from the end of his second wand, Ginny's old wand, enveloping the old wizard. At this range, it only took seconds to turn the last of the Riddle line into a pile of ashes comparable to the wand that used to be in Harry's right hand.

All of a sudden, Harry felt the connection break, and was physically thrown back as the last of Voldemort's crumbling body exploded in a shower of embers.

And that was it…

It was all over…

What he'd been working towards for his entire life…

All 23 years of it…

It was all over…

......

...

A cough brought him out of his thoughts, and Harry spun on the spot, pointing his remaining wand at the guilty party. Liam.

Shit.

The boy was still on the floor, although apparently he was quickly coming out of his stunned state. Harry did the only thing that was sensible to do.

"Accio wand." He said softly, making the boy's wand fly across the alley and into Harry's hand. Liam must have heard him, because he made a desperate grab for it that missed completely.

"No… Please… I didn't have a choice! You don't understand!" he started. Harry couldn't help but scrunch his nose up at the way the boy was cowering at his feet, as if Harry were going to punish him like Voldemort would have.

"Its over… Your master's dead… now get out of here…" He knew his voice was dead and lifeless, but it didn't seem important at this point. "And if you want to live without looking at everyone you betrayed, don't come back."

The boy glanced up at Harry's face and flinched. The once kind and jovial face that he'd know at Hogwarts had been changed over the years of war. Now it was as grave and dangerous as Liam's former master. A transformation that could only come about with grievous loss on both an emotional and a physical level. Liam suddenly felt even more driven to help this man, despite his fear.

"I-I know a s-spell that could help you…" he spluttered quickly, "t-time magic that could take you b-back to the start of all this."

Harry blinked… he was sure that the boy in front of him had just offered him help in a voice that was so different in tone to his pleading wine, that it almost sounded like a different person.

"I'm sorry?" he said, looking down at the boy uncertainly.

"I worked for a research company that the Dark Lord owned, I just didn't know it until it was too late…" he seemed to look up at Harry for acceptance before continuing, "we were researching into a way of reversing time, especially concerning prophecies."

Suddenly, Harry was very interested in what the boy had to say. Despite this, he kept his stoic mask up, indicating the boy should continue by the absence of any reply.

"We found it was p-possible to use the natural power of a prophecy to guide a soul back through time to near when the prophecy was first acted upon."

"You know more about the situation than your making out…" Harry said, it wasn't a question.

"The Dark Lord kept insisting we look into prophecies, we assumed it probably somehow involved you."

"Assuming you're correct," Harry said with a threatening growl, "how could your research possibly help me now?"

"We managed to formulate a spell that would literally take a person's soul back through time. Once it got there, we..." he paused, swallowing nervously before continuing, "...we don't know exactly what would happen, b-but in theory; the soul would merge with the soul of themselves in that time."

Harry stopped to think about this for a few seconds. "So that means you don't know what would happen at all." Harry summed up.

"If, and this is only theoretically mind you, if I were to send my soul back, I might not have any of my memories, I probably wouldn't have my mind as it is now. In all likelihood, time would probably play out exactly the same."

Liam smiled nervously, "I see that Granger girl rubbed off on you…" his smile vanished when Harry eyes flashed, and the wand in his right hand suddenly emitted a few very red sparks, "R-right, well… y-yes, we thought of that too. So we experimented with adding an charm that wouldn't allow the time-line to recreate itself. In effect, it would force the prophecy to take a different route to fulfilment."

"Of course, you couldn't test this theory of yours…" Harry started, but Liam cut him off.

"N-No, not at all. Our tests were very successful. Especially with prophecies that were very open to interpretation."

Harry growled and rubbed his temple before realising he'd started to pace. It was something he's picked up from Hermione during the first few years of the war. But she was gone now, as was her husband and Harry's best friend. Harry sighed. Ron: the last of the Weasleys to survive. It had only been last week…

What choice did he have? Tom had been right, there was nothing for him here. The Weasleys were gone, the remnants of the DA and Hogwarts too scattered to reform even if he wanted to. The Muggles had found out about the magical world, and were actively exterminating anyone that they considered a 'danger to the general population'. Unfortunately, this generally meant anyone who carried a wand.

The ministry was destroyed, and had been for over 2 years now, and in an case, the wizarding population was so small these days that a small town like Ottery St Catchpole would have housed all of them quite comfortably. Moving to the continent was an option, Fleur's family would take him in, but it wouldn't be the same. Nothing would ever be the same again...

Not without his allies, his comrades, his friends...

His loved ones...

Gin...

"I'll do it." Harry said suddenly. "How?"

Liam gave a weak smile. "It's a surprisingly simple spell, but takes a great deal of determination on the caster's part for it to happen."

"Trust me, I have all the drive that I would and could ever want." Harry replied with a grim smirk. "What's the incantation?"

Liam swallowed and closed his eyes, as if trying to recall a long lost memory.

"Sors Sortis Retexo…"

Approximately 23 years previously:

"But master! I must insist you reconsider…"

"Do not talk to me in such manner Wormtail, unless you want me to permanently turn you into the rat you are!"

The dark bundle of robes shrank back on the cold stone floor, as if struck. A silence fell over the chamber, causing the man to shiver in anticipation of punishment.

"Unfortunately, I agree with him my Lord…"

A masked figure within the circle that surrounded the quivering man and the one named Lord Voldemort stepped forward.

"Oh really Severus?" the Dark Lord turned his head towards his most trusted follower.

"Yes, my Lord. The Potter child may be powerful, seeing as, as much as I hate to admit it, both of his parents are reasonably powerful." He paused, licking his lips. "But, the Longbottoms are by far the superior Aurors, so I have to agree with Peter on the fact that their son would be the more dangerous adversary in the future."

The Dark Lord looked thoughtful for a small while. Had any neutral party been present, they would have been spooked by the unnaturally complete silence that fell across the room that was full of people. Before long, Voldemort spoke again.

"I was inclined to believe that Wormtail here was simply trying to save his dear friend James Potter in an act of twisted loyalty," He turned his gaze from the quivering man in front of him to the masked man to his right, "Very well. I trust you, Severus, to make decisions that will benefit me. The Longbottoms it is."

Voldemort gave a gruesome smile, "Now, out! Get out the lot of you!" he rubbed his hands together with glee. "I have preparations to make…"

The circle dissolved and the figures made their way out the one door to the stone-walled room, no one seemed to notice one of the masked men picking up Wormtail by the robes and leading him out the room. Nor the fact that he let him into a room a few corridors away, shutting the door as they entered.

"Tell James we're even!"