Title: Colours of time

Author: SassySarcasm

Rating: T

Pairings: None as of yet

Warnings: Language

Summary: The cost of war was too great, to fix things Harry goes back in time, not to relive his life but to influence his younger self and attempt to lower the body count his world suffered.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: There have been a lot of stories where Harry goes back to teach his parents, or goes back in time and takes the place of his younger self to guide things from there. Here I'm toying with the idea of him going back in time but not rewinding time, he goes back and assumes another name to influence himself and the situations around him change how the war ends.

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"His older self had taught his younger self a language which the older self knew because the younger self, after being taught, grew up to be the older self and was, therefore, capable of teaching."

― Robert A. Heinlein

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"As you all know this is a new class, brought in because of the looming war." The Professor paused, his emerald green eyes sweeping the faces of the young students before him.

They were all so damn young. It just wasn't fair.

His eyes landed on the boy near the middle who was watching him intently. His looks were distinctive and fairly well known, from his messy hair to his glasses to his legendary scar. Harry Potter, age 15.

"Whether you believe Voldemort is back is irrelevant." He told them, ignoring the flinches and the snorts of incredulousness. "Back or not you still fear him. If you believe him dead, and gone, why not say his name?"

Students became uneasy at this. It was just residual fear, right? They had grown up fearing the name, and that shouldn't change if he was dead.

It certainly wasn't that they knew somewhere deep down that he REALLY was back and not dead the way they had been told.

The professor sighed, "Frankly I don't care if you believe he is or isn't back." To his amusement, Potter scowled in the exact same way as the young Malfoy. "Because one way or another, a war is coming."

Mumbling broke out for the first time since class had started. Some were nodding as if vindicated while others looked confused and skeptical.

A young Hermione Granger raised her hand, "Professor Emery? Why would there be a war if You-Know-Who wasn't back?"

Emery narrowed his eyes at her through his fringe, "I'm sorry Miss Granger but I do NOT know who."

Brown eyes widened at the response she often got from another select individual, and betraying her thoughts, she glanced at the black haired boy next to her.

Now that she thought about it, this professor did look eerily similar to her friend… He was of course older, somewhere in his 20s, and his hair was much longer and he didn't wear glasses but the similarity was there.

She gulped, "I meant V-Voldemort, sir" she whispered.

Emery rewarded her with a genuine smile, "Thank you Miss Granger, and to answer your question, Yes. A war is still coming. Regardless of whether Voldemort is back, his followers certainly are."

Students exchanged glances, thinking of the world cup and Tri-wizard tournament. It was true that something was happening.

Harry Potter raised his hand; "If you say there's a war coming, why aren't you teaching a defense class?" he demanded clearly thinking of the worthless teacher they had now.

There was a murmur of agreement, it was their impression so far that this new Professor knew what he was talking about, so why wasn't he teaching defense instead of Umbridge?

Emery shrugged, "I've fought in a war, and I've seen what it does to you. I'll ask you a question and I want you all to think about it carefully, what do you think war is?"

The room was quiet as they mulled over the question. Potter was the first to raise his hand, even beating Hermione.

"It's fighting for what you believe in." he stated, eyes flashing.

Emery nodded, "Anyone else?"

Surprisingly the next person to raise their hand was Malfoy, "War is protecting your family." He told them, mouth set in a determined line as he thought of his parents.

Finally, Granger raised a hesitant and faintly shaking hand, "It's dying for our beliefs…" she whispered voice breaking at the end.

Professor Emery clapped, "All true, but Miss Granger's was the answer I was looking for." He paused letting that sink in, "Everyone thinks of how they'll do good fighting for their beliefs, fighting for their cause, be it blood purity or equal rights. You think of protecting the people you care about. Of how much you would do to keep them safe."

His eyes lingered on a very pale Malfoy.

"But it's not like that. And it certainly is not at all glorious like they make it out to be. They say war changes a person. And I'm here to tell you that it does. It changes everything."

The air in the classroom was very tense as students shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"Why should anything change if you're doing what's right?" demanded the red haired Weasley boy from his seat next to Potter.

The professor's eyes snapped to him, "Why does it change? Because in a war you will have to kill someone and THAT will change you!"

He shook his head at their perplexed faces, "When you picture your enemy now, they're faceless. Just someone in your way, it's something soldiers do to get through it. It's called desensitization. The problem is that in practice, when you actually have to kill someone, they are not faceless."

He crossed his arms in front of him, his sleeves riding up enough to reveal scarred wrists.

"No matter what side they're from, you are killing a PERSON. They're someone's father, mother, daughter or son. You are taking them from their family and it's something you'll have to live with your whole life."

The room was now deathly silent. No one noticed the white knuckled grip Potter had on his desk, or that Granger was covering it with her own. No one except the professor.

"That's why war changes a person. And that's why I'm here." He announced somewhat dramatically as he looked around the room.

He stopped speaking, letting them digest and think about what he had told them so far. It was clear some were already taking it to heart.

His lips quirked up into a kind of half smile, half smirk. "Someone once asked me how I lived with myself; how I could stand all the lives I had taken."

He once again had their full attention as the students pulled themselves away from their own thoughts about war.

"I'll tell you how." He paused, licking his lips that had gone dry from all the talking, "I do everything I can to make up for it. I had a gift for fighting, killing. But I also have a gift for healing. And that's how I make up for it. I heal, I help save lives. And that's why I'm here. I'm here because you need to know at least the basics of healing before going into this war."

All around him were dawning looks of comprehension as his lecture finally made sense.

"I can't take back all the deaths I caused, the lives i ruined, but every death I prevent every life I save, helps. It's something that I can teach all of you so you can in turn save someone."

Some of the students still looked disbelieving but the majority of them looked thoughtful.

Professor Emery smiled to himself as he watched them dissolve into group and begin to talk, and debate what he told them.

He didn't much mind, he'd get around to actually teaching them something later. For now he was just glad he had the chance to better equip them for the war. He would prevent it from turning out the way it had for him.

Feeling eyes on him he glanced up to see Hermione Granger watching him intently as Potter and Weasley bickered in the background.

Noticing that she had been caught staring the bushy-haired girl blushed, but smiled at him.

His eyes widened, feeling suddenly that at least one person knew who he really was.

But then again it felt right that the first person to realize was her.

Smiling absently he looked out over his enthusiastic class, who were still debating over what he said and attempting to persuade others to their side, and unconsciously traced the scar on his forehead that was hidden from everyone by a glamour.

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A/N: and that's a wrap! Lol. So this was an excerpt from a longer story that I may one day write. But for now, at least, it's going to remain a one shot. It was a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone that I had to get down. There's a possibility of more, so reviews and critiques would be welcome! Tell me whether the idea is even worth pursuing haha (: THANKS!