Time and Time Again

By Chris Allen

Chapter Two

Harry was really beginning to think that his chosen course of action probably wasn't the best. The heat from the majority of the shockwave wasn't that bad but there were small pockets that, while not hot, seemed burn living material, much like an acid. He discovered this little gem of knowledge when he decided that it was safe to take a look around, just to see what this wave was doing. He had brought his head up only a few inches when the side of his face began crackling and hissing in a manner much more suited to a frying pan. With a cry of both surprise and agony, he slammed his head back onto the ground much harder than was necessary but considering the pain he was already in, he didn't pay much notice to a mere bump on the head. Covering both his face and his hands as much as he could, he did all that he could to present as small a target as possible and just hoped to ride it out.

On a physical level, it certainly wasn't the most arduous, but it was without a doubt the most frightening experience of his life. Facing trolls, basilisks, acromantula, dragons and even Dark Lords didn't even compare. The thought of burning to death had always been of fear of his but judging by what he was feeling right now, this had all the pain involved but worked much slower. Although he had made the decision for a suicidal attempt at taking Voldemort down mere moments ago, if he had known this was involved, he would have tried to think of something, anything, else.

He wasn't quite sure how long he laid there but after the wind stopped whipping around him he stayed perfectly still for a few minutes before even thinking about taking a look around. With his luck that little storm was only the beginning of something that would get much worse. Taking his chances, he lifted his head only a few inches and cracked open one eye. To his emense relief, it seemed that everything had settled once again and returned to some form of normalcy. Of course, the fact that he was now at the bottom of fifteen foot deep rocky crater that stretched at least twenty yards across was by no means normal but that damned wind had stopped. He could have found himself on the summit of Mount Everest completely starkers in the dead of winter and he wouldn't give a damn.

His relief lasted only a moment as the more pressing issue of his burning face came back to the forefront of his mind with a sizzling pop. Gasping in pain, he reached for his wand with a shaky hand, the Aguameti charm already on his lips when his very limited muggle education seemed to make a resurgence. This was no ordinary burn, even the thickest of individuals could tell that. More like acid or some chemical reaction than fire and one thing he had learned was that a jet of water probably wasn't the best way to go about cleaning it up. It could possibly make the situation worse. He had to bite back a sob as he realized that both time and pain seemed to have robbed him of the information on how to neutralize such things.

Working on instinct alone, he cast every cleaning spell he had ever seen Mrs. Weasley use. Unfortunately some of them didn't have a very good effect and seemed to make the matter worse when a simple Scourgify, coincidently, the only spell in the bunch he didn't think would do anything, seemed to do the trick. Now, instead of the searing heat that was steadily growing worse over an increasingly larger area, had subsided somewhat to an intense, but isolated, stinging sensation. While it was by no means pleasant, it was by far preferable.

After taking a few minutes to get both his body and mind under control, Harry sat up and looked around at his surroundings. If it wasn't for the throbbing pain in his face, he would have been impressed with the destruction a Time-Turner could cause for being such a small device. Being fifteen feet below ground level, he couldn't see if there were any changes beyond the new crater but the crater itself was impressive nonetheless. However, he was very confused as to why the landscape had sustained such damage and yet he had barely been hurt, the burns to his face notwithstanding.

Pain or not, there was one sight that brought a feral grin to his lips. Along the edge, Voldemort was pinned in a standing position with a large chunk, a very large chunk, of rock jutting through his chest. Like Harry, he had burns on his face and hands that were still burning away his flesh. His wand was laying at his feet, out of reach, preventing him from keeping the burns from spreading even if he was in any physical condition to do so. Blood was leaking out of his mouth and nose and despite the light twitching of his body, the vacant look about his eyes made it clear that he was already dead.

Chuckling darkly, Harry turned his back on the deceased Dark Lord and began climbing back to the surface. Due to his various injuries, it took him a few minutes despite the relatively easy climb. Given the drastic changes to the terrain in the general vicinity of the Time-Turner, he was actually quite surprised that beyond the newly created pit everything seemed to be in perfect order. If you discount that fact that he was clearly not in Little Whinging any more, that is. Where he had expected to see whatever remained of the park he had previously occupied, he saw a meticulously trimmed lawn with a rather nice three story Victorian manor house not far in front of him. To his right, the property was bordered by a forested area but unlike the Forbidden Forest on the Hogwarts grounds that practically reeked of magic, this forest just 'felt' more normal.

To his left, he was able to make out a simple country dirt road that led down the hill into a nearby village. Due to the lateness of the hour, it was nearly impossible to tell its general size in the dark but judging by the lights illuminating the various structures it seemed to be of a fairly modest size. Shaking his head slightly to bring himself back to a more constructive line of thought, he turned back towards the house in front of him with the hope of getting some medical help. Harry normally wasn't the trusting kind but given his current state of health he felt he had no choice but to take a chance and see if there was anyone home. If they turned out to be Death Eaters or even just homicidal muggles, he didn't really have much of a choice, so tough shit. With as bad as he felt currently, death was sounding like a decent improvement.

Unfortunately, he didn't make it three steps before a very unwelcome voice behind him spoke an equally unwelcome incantation. Moving as fast as he could, he drew his wand once again and spun around but it was already too late. Just before his world exploded into pain, he began mentally cursing himself for forgetting that there had been two Voldemorts, not one, present when he destroyed the Time-Turner.

Just like before, this Cruciatus curse was no where near as painful as when both versions of the wizard had cast it on him at the same time, but it was certainly the most powerful single curse he had ever experienced and caused him to lose his grasp on his wand and he dropped to his knees. Obviously the direction this little encounter had turned had enraged him to a point where he could pump a much greater degree of power into the curse. Hate was certainly a powerful weapon when wielded by a person with the right state of mind. An extremely twisted state of mind.

He didn't know how long he had been under the curse's effects but when it was lifted his body was trembling badly and he felt himself hyperventilating as he tried to such in as much air as possible. Even the slightest movements felt as if fire was coursing through his veins but he managed to look up into the enraged face of the Dark Lord just seconds before a powerful banishing charm slammed into his chest, launching him through the air.

XXX

Argyle McGonagall was not a man that was easily surprised, nor did he particularly enjoy it when he was. So it was understandable that when the wards surrounding his family home came under attack he was not in the best of moods. While the attack enraged him, for sure, it was more because he didn't know that it was coming. For a man who prided himself on being one step ahead of both his enemies and his allies in these dark times, it was a serious blow to his professional pride despite the fact that no force could possibly make it through before the house could be evacuated. He was not foolish enough to entrust the task of Secret Keeper to anyone who could potentially betray him, either intentionally or not, and the rest of the wards alone made the manor more secure than even Gringotts. Security that had cost him a great deal of gold and favors, but it was well worth it.

He looked out his study window to see whatever pitiful attack would be coming when he received his second shock of the night. It was not coming from outside the wards, but inside and it didn't seem to be an attack at all, at least not any he had ever heard of. More of an intense magical anomaly. He had seen something similar on a scale model but he had never seen anything like it in person and certainly had never heard of anything occurring on this massive scale. Unfortunately there are many different forms of magic that could cause an event such as this so while he could narrow down field of what this could be, it was still a pretty long list and he was sure that those with actual experience in such things could add any number of other ideas.

It looked like a mass of glowing yellow clouds that were rapidly revolving around the center of the disturbance. There were several patches that were more brown in color and seemed to flash occasionally, almost like lightening. Around the edges the ground began a swift transformation, first killing off the grass and other nearby plant life while the soil was pushed up several feet leaving him little doubt that whatever was going on, it was not something he wanted to get near.

Argyle was of two minds on the subject when the clouds began dissipating a few minutes after it began. On the one hand, he was a little disappointed that it was over before he had gotten enough control over himself to make a few floo calls to some colleagues to come and see it for themselves. It was quite a unique experience, after all. On the other hand, this was his home, where his family was supposed to be protected and it pissed him off to no end that whoever, or whatever, had caused this, had seen fit to do it here.

He just stood there for a moment with this thought in mind, feeling the anger nearly consume him, before shaking it off. As his eyes snapped back into focus, he saw that his front yard seemed to be sporting a new hole. A rather large hole. Even from the distance he was currently standing, he was willing to bet that it was perfect circle, with a diameter of at least twenty yards.

He was turning around to rush over to the fireplace to floo a few people when his attention was once again pulled towards his lawn by movement at the edge of the crater. At first he just thought that it was rocks or clumps of dirt falling in but then he saw an arm reaching out. He just stared dumbly in shock as he watched what appeared to be a teenage boy pull himself out of the hole and slowly climb to his feet. Judging by the destruction that it had caused to his lawn he didn't even want to know what it must have been like to be in the center of that 'storm'. He didn't even have the mental capacity at the moment to be mad that this was most likely the person that had breached his wards.

Despite the fact that the boy had survived the experience, he clearly did not come out unscathed as he seemed to sway back and forth as he looked around before taking an unsteady step towards the house. All in all, he seemed to be pretty disoriented. Blinking tightly to regain his composure, Argyle ran out of the room before charging down the stairs to the main entrance hall. While his home wasn't exactly enormous, it was still pretty large, and he wasn't as young as he used to be, so when he arrived at his destination he stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Besides, he wanted to get this over with quickly, just incase that 'storm' had alerted the Ministry. He wanted to get his answers before the Ministry got their hands on the boy. Thankfully he had a store of Veritaserum on hand. If the boy wasn't to badly injured, he had every intention of putting it to good use.

Unfortunately, he opened the door just in time to see something flying towards him. Eyes wide, he quickly pushed the door shut again but was to late as whatever it was slammed into the solid piece of oak, throwing him to the floor in the process. Shaking his head, he looked around to find whatever it was only to have his mouth drop open slightly as he caught sight of the boy he had seen crawling out of the crater lying unmoving against the opposite wall. He lurched to his feet with a startled gasp and rushed to the boy's side to make sure he was still alive.

Turning him over as gently as he could, he winced slightly as he caught sight of the fresh burn on his face as well as the badly broken nose. Judging by his labored breathing, that hit he took against his door did a fair bit of damage but considering his sluggish and disoriented movements outside, he had been worked over pretty thoroughly before hand. With that thought in mind, Argyle cursed himself mentally for overlooking the fact that something or someone had to have thrown the boy at his door to begin with.

Drawing his wand in one fluid movement, he spun around on his knees but it was already too late. A flurry of hexes slammed into him, ripping the wand from his hand before sending him careening into the wall himself. He tried to move immediately but found he had no motor control as he was lifted off the ground to levitate in front of his attacker. If he had the physical ability to do so he would have gasped in both shock of revulsion.

The thing in front of him couldn't even be described as a man, he was an abomination. While he had much of the same physical form, the skeletal thin body, bone white complexion, scarlet red eyes and almost reptilian like facial features was a clear sign that this person held delved extremely deep into some very dark rituals. He wasn't sure just how much of a transformation he had made beyond the physical body but judging by what he could see, he went far beyond any documented case he had seen.

"Judging by the look in your eyes, you are not one of my servants." He commented as he absentmindedly tapped his chin. Luckily, the first thing he did after climbing out of that crater was check for any wards in the area and he had to admit that he was quite impressed with this home's defenses. But, one major flaw he detected, at least to the home's owners in this situation, was their overall power. The shields were both strong enough and extended far enough away to resist shattering under the pressure that Time-Turner had given off. If the Ministry detects the magic at all, they would be unable to interfere and Voldemort was pretty confidant that he could deal with anyone this man had deemed worthy of allowing passed the Fidelius charm.

"That being the case, and given the strength of your wards, I will have the time needed to work out my frustrations on you since the boy no longer has any fight in him. In fact," Voldemort sneered before turning around almost faster than the eye could see. Almost instantly, the teenage girl that was standing concealed in a nearby doorway was ripped forward and the wand she had drawn was reduced to ashes.

"Leave her be!" Argyle demanded sharply, concern and fear for his daughter helping him to at least partially fight the spell that was holding him in place. Voldemort simply ignored his words while he used some form of sticking charm to fix the man to the wall. As he slowly circled the girl on the floor, Voldemort couldn't help but feel that he knew her. She just seemed very familiar to him but he couldn't quite remember where he had seen her before. There were very few people who could look him in the eye, much less glare without fear and yet this mere child was able to accomplish both.

'It is of no matter,' He thought with a light shrug. 'Once I am through with her, fear will be all she has left.'

"It would seem, My Dear, that you need a lesson in manners." Without warning, the girl found herself suspended in the air with her arms and legs spread out as far as they could reach. With no incantation a scarlet rope of fire slowly grew out of Voldemort's wand until it reached ten feet in length. This was a favorite spell of his when it came to punishing his Death Eaters. The Cruciatus curse served its purpose, but if you wanted to instill fear and control in those around you, you must be able to call on more than one simple spell.

Argyle was cussing up a storm as the deformed wizard stepped behind his now trembling daughter. Voldemort looked him in the eye with an inhuman glee and never looked away with the first crack of his enflamed whip. While the shrieks of pain it elicited as it tore through her robes and skin did a great deal to alleviate his mood, it was seeing the reaction of her father that really made this worthwhile.

The only thing that could make this better was to put this man under the Imperius curse and make him do it himself. Nothing pleased him more than to look into someone's eyes immediately after the curse is lifted and they realized what they had done. Unfortunately, in this case, he had casually tested this man's mental defenses and knew that such tactics would fail so he had to rely on the old fashioned method, watching him as he punished his daughter, which was just as good to him. The twisted smile that graced his almost nonexistent lips becoming more pronounced as he brought his whip down for a second time.

The screams echoing off the walls seemed to bring Harry around for a brief moment and he was fully intending to slip back into the blissfully pain free realm of unconsciousness when he cracked one eye open to see what was going on. The image that met his eye, unfortunately for his desire for sleep, seemed to kick start his 'saving people thing', as Hermione had called it. The way she had said it, it sort of reminded Harry of about all those 'intervention' shows his Aunt Petunia was watching these days. It sounded almost as if Hermione thought that it was some kind of addiction, some sort of bad habit that he needed to kick. While it was well within the realm of possibility that his actions will lead to a very slow and painful end, all those other times they tried getting help from the adults, being turned down of course, and were for very noble causes that turned out alright in the end, for the most part.

A second ear shattering scream interspersed with the near constant crying and yelling pulled Harry's mind back from thoughts about Hermione's physiological diagnoses and back to the situation at hand. Without moving any more than absolutely needed, he was able to determine that there were currently no Death Eaters in the room unless this man hanging on the wall was one of his followers and the girl was being punished for some failure of his. He couldn't really see much from his position but judging by Voldemort's position in front of him, the small portion of someone else that screams like a girl and the rope of fire coming out of Voldemort's wand, he was working someone over pretty good. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they had taken his place as the Dark Lord's plaything for the time being. Adrenalin junkie or not, he couldn't just lay there while some girl was getting beaten around like some mongrel dog, even if it turned out to be Pansy Parkinson.

Using the wall behind him for support, Harry pulled himself up into a sitting position, using all available willpower to prevent himself from hissing or gasping in pain from aggravating his broken ribs. Looking around, he couldn't spot his wand anywhere but thankfully he did find one. No doubt belonging to one of the two other occupants of the room. Sadly it was only after he had pulled himself to his knees and began crawling towards it that he realized that to reach the wand he would have to cross Voldemort's line of sight, thus giving his movements away. Harry shook his head in frustration. He was pretty sure that he could escape while 'ole Snake Face's' attention was elsewhere but much to the detriment of his life expectancy, that just wasn't him.

Harry was disgusted to see that the entry hall in which he was currently sitting was obnoxiously free of anything that could be used for such an occasion. Under normal circumstances he would probably find it quite tasteful but for the time being the circumstances were far from normal. There were a pair of crossed axes on one of the walls but like the wand, getting to them would reveal his conscious state. Searching a little more thoroughly, he did find something. Four small brass posts standing about three feet in height with a diameter of three inches. They were positioned around a small alcove near the door, blocking all movement with a chain suspended between them. As he moved closer Harry could see that the alcove was made up like a small shrine with the portrait of a stately looking woman in her early to mid thirties. She wasn't what one would call gorgeous but she had a classical beauty and inner strength about her that would surely make a lasting impression.

He tore his eyes away from the painting with a shake of his head and set about disconnecting the chain as quietly as possible. Sadly, once this task was completed he discovered that the posts were not merely standing on the floor, they were apart of the floor, thus, they were unable to be removed without magical aid or a great deal of time and noise. Nearly growling in frustration, Harry figured that the chain was the best he was going to get so he moved up behind Voldemort and swung it around as hard as he could just as he brought his own whip up again to strike the girl for the forth time. The blow never landed as Voldemort's head was thrown to the side, his body following a split second later. Harry wasn't quite sure what kind of damage he had done but judging but the loud hiss, he at least caused a bit of pain. Either that or he only managed to piss him off. Either way, the girl would have a chance to get away, possibly taking the other man with her if she could get him off the wall.

In no mood to play fair, Harry didn't give his opponent time to recover before he started swinging the chain again. Knowing that he would be dead if he let up for even a second, he ignored the pain he was in, in favor of inflicting the most possible damage he could. For the most part, the Dark Lord spent this time hunched over, protecting his head and trying to ward off the blows sending different spells his way but due to their positions Harry was able to avoid them if they came near him at all. At the rate things were going he was hoping that he could force the older wizard to flee but when an opportunity for more opened up, Harry was quick to jump on it, literally.

Voldemort had spun around a little to far and presented his back to Harry who was only to happy to seize the moment and take advantage of the situation. After beating him one last time, he leapt forward onto his back and threw the chain over his head. Straddling his back with Voldemort bent over the way he was, Harry couldn't get as much leverage to strangle the man as he would have liked but it did unbalance him enough to knock him to the ground. At this point Harry simply ignored the chain altogether and wrapped an arm around the Dark Lord's head and jerked it to the side in an attempt to break his neck. Something he found was much more difficult to accomplish than the action movies Dudley watched would suggest. Either that or all the rituals Voldemort had gone through had made his body more resilient to such things.

Rituals or not, the body can only sustain so much damage before it gives out and with one final jerk, a snap echoed off the walls as his skull was pulled free from his spine. His breath coming out in a shallow wheeze, Harry pushed Voldemort's body away from him and tried to stand. It took him a few tries but he eventually regained his footing and almost laughed at the injustice in the world when he noticed that, judging but the erratic breathing, Voldemort was still alive. With a sharp kick, he knocked the man over onto his back and chuckled as he took in the way his eyes and mouth were wide open as he gasped for breath and the sluggish movements of his arms and legs.

Once detail that surprised him was the hole that was burned into his robes at his left shoulder. A hole that was created by his blasting curse that also ripped the Time-Turner off from around his neck. For a moment he could almost hear Hermione lecturing him on the impossibility that the future Voldemort was still alive while the present was already dead. While he was by no means a scholar in any sense, he was deeply confused by this nonetheless. Deciding that it wasn't worth much thought at this current time and not wanting to take any chance, Harry raised his left leg and brought it down swiftly, stomping hard across his enemy's throat.

"Why won't you die?" Harry shouted in both confusion and rage when both breaking his neck and crushing his windpipe only seemed to rob him of his motor functions and the ability to breathe. Almost too late, Harry saw his unsteady arm wave his wand in his direction and he had to hurry to jump out of the way. While his reflexes were quite good, it was no doubt Voldemort's nearly incapacitated condition that saved his leg since he hadn't been paying attention. Who would think of a man in the Dark Lord's position would be a threat? As it was, the cutting curse only grazed the side of his knee while cutting about an inch into the back, severing some of the tendons. The rage he was feeling at the moment, both at his attacker and himself for his carelessness, allowed him to ignore the pain for the time being enough to crawl the few feet that separated them and easily snatch the wand out of his hand.

"I read a book on vampires not that long ago, Tom." Harry began in a conversational tone of voice as he pushed himself backwards a bit. "While listing the various ways to kill a vampire, it said, and I quote, 'There are very few things in this world that wouldn't be inconvenienced if you removed its head.' Fascinating, don't you think." Those were the last words Voldemort heard before Harry cast three cutting curses directly at his neck. The first barely cut three inches while the following two made significantly more progress. Blood, thick and black, almost like crude oil, slowly leaked onto the marble floor. Harry was unconscious even before his body slumped to the floor. Despite the pain she was currently in, the girl, who had tried to remain as unnoticed as possible, scampered across the room to retrieve her wand so that she could free her father.

Present Day

"Wait, wait, wait!" Hermione quickly broke in, pulling all attention to her. "First of all, Time-Turners do not work like that! When used, they do not move from one location to another, they move ONLY through time. Also, even the strongest one being used today is only capable of moving a several hours. The idea of one moving over fifty years is simply ridiculous.

"Secondly, the sequence of events you are describing is just impossible. The 'future' You-Know-Who would have been aware of everything his past self had experienced, including confronting you as well as you destroying the Time-Turner because he would have been there in his past. He would have known your every move. Also, to kill either the past or present incarnation of anyone will their future self is in the same time would create a paradox that could very well destroy the universe." She continued on for several minutes, going into deep explanations that had most people looking at her glassy eyed.

"Ms. Granger, are you by any chance a member of the Department of Mysteries?" Harry, err, Jacob asked curiously. Everyone looked at him as if he was completely off his rocker. For one, he himself was employed by that department so he would know anyway and Hermione had not even started her sixth year yet much less gotten a job. Those that had been around him enough though, Minerva, Albus and Moody, most notably, could tell that he was quite annoyed at her interruption.

"Of course not." She huffed in annoyance but was cut off before she could continue with her rant.

"So you do not have proper training or even access to the materials necessary for the proper study of time magic?"

"Well, no." Hermione answered uncertainly.

"Are you well versed enough in advanced theoretical physics, mathematics or quantum mechanics to understand the concept enough to take part in an intellectual debate on the subject with, oh, let's say, Stephen Hawking?"

"Who's Stephen Hawking?" Ron whispered quietly to Remus.

"He's a muggle professor at the University of Cambridge. He's probably one of the most intelligent people on the planet, if not the most intelligent. He has also done some work with the Department of Mysteries. Its rumored that the newer model Time-Turners are of his design." The werewolf answered just as quietly.

"Probably not." Hermione answered again after a few moments. She was not the type of person that liked to admit that she was incapable of anything but since starting Hogwarts she had neglected her studies in muggle subjects but even if she hadn't she would have many years of hard study before she reached that level, if she ever could.

"So you do not have the knowledge or experience in either the magical or scientific aspects necessary for the travel through time? If there is another unknown component to the equation where your considerable expertise lies, please, enlighten us." While there were many in the room that did not like the way he was speaking to Hermione, they all saw that he had a valid point and some even thought that maybe being shot down the way she was would do her some good. It was actually much like watching Snape ripping into any of his Gryffindor students, only Jacob appeared to be perfectly calm and was stating hard facts instead of merely spouting insults. Hermione silently shook her head as she just stared down at her hands "Then please, do not assume that you know more about the nature of time and space than people who have dedicated their whole lives to the study of the subject."

"So you do work with Time-Turners?" Albus spoke up, looking for confirmation. This question only seemed to annoy the other man even more. He was really getting tired of the old man's insistence for department information.

"Given my peculiar situation, it should go without saying that I have done some research in the field, but, as I have told you countless times before, my position and responsibilities are, and will remain, classified. You got it?" He snarled, causing many, Dumbledore included, to flinch.

"But…But, You're married to McGonagall?" Ron blurted out for the second time, seemingly unconcerned with everything else he had heard thus far. Everyone looked at him strangely but Jacob just raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, it gets worse than that." He answered with a grin. "I also have four daughters, and six granddaughters. Yes, I live in the estrogen ocean." He announced happily before his expression cooled once more. "Now, are there anymore pointless or asinine questions, or may I continue uninterrupted?" When no one spoke up, which just about everyone took as a good sign, Jacob relaxed a bit before turning to his wife. "My Dear, you have the floor."

End of chapter two.

Yes I am well aware that this chapter, especially the end was not very good but I really wanted to get this out now and if I had continued it would have taken a while longer and would have ended up extremely long before I had a decent stopping point.

For those of you that were looking forward to it, don't worry, despite Voldemort's demise there will certainly be plenty of confrontation in this fic.

If you liked it or hated it, please leave a review and let me know if there is anyway I can improve this story. Thanks.