Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

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Prologue

Harry Potter sat in an isle in the Department of Mysteries. His Invisibility cloak draped over his shoulder and a time turner in his hand. The security hadn't been improved, nor had anyone been put on guard. Over his other shoulder was a sack full of his most treasured possessions. The Marauder's Map, his Firebolt, the shattered remains of the mirror Sirius had given him, the photo album of his parents, and a few pictures of him, Sirius, Hermione, and the Weasleys at 12 Grimauld Place. He knew it was ridiculous to bring them to where he was going, but he couldn't risk them not being there, they were a part of him. Their purpose was to remind him of all that had happened to drive him to this level of desperation. He didn't care what others would think of him, it wasn't like they would remember for long.

He was taking a risk, he knew, but it was worth a shot. Too many people had died because of him, only this time it was someone he actually had the chance to get to know, it was this one that made him make up his mind. He would do it all over again, he would try again, he would make the lives of those he loved better.

This time around, Ginny would not be taken to the Chamber of Secrets, this time he would do all he could to make sure that Sirius is proven innocent; Scabbers wouldn't get in the way. This time, he would befriend Neville and Luna earlier. This time, Cedric Diggory would live, although he knew that he couldn't stop Voldemort from returning, even though it would be better for him, he now knew that he was the only chance for the Wizarding World and had to take down Voldemort while he still could, whether he liked it not. And this time, this time, Sirius would live, live the life he deserved.

Harry closed his eyes and ran the plan through his head yet another time.

He would go back to his first year, do all he could to make peoples' lives better, even if it meant that his would not be. He might even make another DA, everyone knew that the only decent Defense teacher they would ever get would be Lupin, and that wouldn't be for an entire two years after he returned. They needed to be prepared for the war that was fast approaching.

He got up, looked around, and took a deep breath. This is it Harry, last chance…

He had found a spell that he would use for when he was back. It would somehow join his spirit with his younger self. Hermione, unaware that he was actually asking for his own benefit, had explained the process thoroughly. He knew how it worked, and he knew how it was performed.

She's going to be furious, Harry thought, But she'll forget soon enough…

He felt a pang of sadness, but it was for the best, the best for everyone, everyone would live and be out of danger, even if it meant he would have to stay away from them.

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His palm was white, his fingers clutching at the Turner aggressively. It was the only one he could find, but he doubted that it was the last. The medal frame around the hour glass was slightly bent, but he didn't care, didn't think that it would affect anything. It was bigger than Hermione's had been . About as long and wide as a pop bottle.

Harry put the Invisibility Cloak inside the sack. Now or Never….

Three turns to go back just a few hours so a hundred some turns later I should be there, and if not, I'll just keep turning it.

It probably wouldn't work, most likely it wouldn't. He wasn't even sure if you could take a Time Turner that far back. Most likely not.

He started twisting it, farther and faster with each turn. His pain and sorrow seeping through, he kept turning, not pausing if only for a moment as he probably should have.

The hour glass began to stick, screeching with each spin. But Harry hadn't noticed. The glass was cracking, it was already dinted and beat up before, but now the crack grew farther up the side. Harry was getting angry; it wasn't going as fast as should, why wasn't it working? So he applied more pressure, became more aggressive.

He kept going, on and on, till the glass could handle no more.

The sand inside the glass was spilling out the crack that had grown. The powder fell onto the floor and covered Harry's hands. It turned red, burning his skin, lighting up the isle. He flung the Turner on the ground and buried his hands inside his robe, the cry of agony held behind closed lips, not wanting to alert anyone of a break in.

Smoke was rising, an eerie green despite the red sand. Harry was coughing, but he couldn't move, the smoke somehow paralyzing him. It grew, and went higher still until it covered him completely. A blinding flash as a fire started, and the smoke grew higher. A house elf sounded an alarm, the smoke was spreading. Unspeakables rushed to the elf who simply pointed to the flames.

As one Unspeakable grasped the time turner in his hand, another pointed to it with his wand. Their eyes met, they turned, and told the others.

"Harry Potter has disappeared."

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Harry landed roughly on his hands. The howl of pain stayed once again silent. His hands were a vivid red and blisters covered his fingers. The ground was shaking and he looked up to see Hagrid running over.

"Yeh okay? What 'appened to yer hands?" His voice was filled with honest sincerity and his face was kind. But it showed no recognition.

Harry looked up, his messy black hair had been hiding his face, but as soon as it was shown, Hagrid's expression changed. Harry's stomachs dropped, Hagrid knew who he was, it hadn't worked.

But there was something different about Hagrid. Harry looked closer. There was a line of worry above his brow, like the one that had just started to show after Harry's fourth year. But his face looked younger, lighter, and despite the worry line, happier, and more carefree.

Maybe I went back far enough, but then his eyes widened in horror. If he was indeed back in time, in his first year, and he did look like Harry, but yet looked sixteen….

But Hagrid proved him wrong with his next sentence.

"James, wha' are yeh up ter now?" He boomed, a smile splitting his face. Harry gulped and stared back in shock.

James… James Potter?!

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AN: So here it is; the re-write of Knob of the turner. I had major writer's block and realized it was because of poor writing and not a clue of how to end this story. Now I have an ending and just need to figure out how to get there. Hopefully my writing improves as well.