Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously.

Warnings: None as of yet (perhaps mood whiplash). Later chapter will involve violence, bloodshed and death. Thus, please keep an eye out for the warnings appearing on each chapter.

AN: This is a project I have wanted to do for a looong time now. I'm not as far done with it yet as I usually like to, when I start posting, but the plot line is done, so let's hope the execution follows. Thus, updates may take time at some points. If all ends up as expected, this fic will cover all the seven years spent at Hogwarts as well as one afterwards. Central figures are James, Snape, Harry and Tom Riddle. Also, concerning BE and AE: erhm, I did learn British English at school, though my spell check is set to AE. Thus, feel free to point out the resulting oddities. But now, enough ramblings, here goes nothing.

The temporal conundrum

One September 1st of 1971, James Potter woke up and remembered.

The birds were chirping outside, and he remembered spending seven years at Hogwarts, taking his NEWTS, marrying Lily Evans, the green light of the Avada Kedavra, and then another seventeen years of watching over his son while dead, until his son finally, at a terrible price, triumphed over Voldemort.

James shook his head and let his gaze wander listlessly through his room. The shelves were stuffed with toys, a few books and all in their typical state of creative disarray. The stuffed dragon (it spit red light, like real fire, if one tickled its stomach) sat right next to his bed, where he had set it last night before falling asleep. So how did he come to recall being married?

And being dead…

James Potter was eleven years old, and today would be the first time in his life to even set foot into Hogwarts. And he'd never met Lily Evans, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape or anyone else he remembered so suddenly.

Still, he was fairly certain those were memories, and not a nightmare. He took a deep breath, and sat up with a shake of his head.

A crack and a house elf appeared near his bed.

"Master James needs to get up. Must get ready for Hogwarts," said the elf with exuberant cheer, and James nodded listlessly. When the small creature had gone, humming how his little master was growing up, he pushed the covers back.

James ran a hand through his tousled hair. Well, today was going to be weird.

Harry Potter tilted his head up, letting his gaze travel slowly over the vast grounds behind the heavy, iron-wrought gates. Way ahead rose the tall spires of Hogwarts, proud against a wide, blue sky; and beyond them green, rolling hills.

He took a deep breath of fresh air.

The forbidden forest to both sides of the way from Hogsmeade to the castle was calm; just as he remembered it to be when he had attended Hogwarts – there was no clue to the fact that the year was not 1996, but 1971.

It had sounded like a good idea in principle to go back and change the past. Now, however, he found himself lacking a detailed strategy. And Hermione was not there to help either.

He hadn't even taken a history book or two from his time.

Well, at least he'd gotten the job as Defense against the Dark Arts Professor.

Now he only had to hope to escape Dumbledore's attempts at Legilimency until he either learned to occlude, or finally had an idea of how to proceed. Other than his plan of stopping Voldemort before he got a chance to kill his parents.

At least that still sounded like a good idea.

If there was one thing James Potter knew, than that he was in dire need of some quiet time to think. All day now unfamiliar memories had crept upon him, torn him straight out of conversations and almost made him walk into an actual wall.

His parents kept laughing, petting his head, telling him not to be nervous, Hogwarts was going to be great. Strangely enough, knowing that Hogwarts was going to be great made him much more insecure.

And then, at King's Cross, a short, brown-haired girl ran past him.

James' heart stuttered. He knew her name was Amanda Matthews, and she would die eight years from now, murdered by death eaters while on an excursion with her family. He had been one of the aurors called to the scene – he had seen her bloodied face, dead eyes staring sightlessly up at an overcast sky.

It was all he could do to stumble after his parents. His hands felt clammy, his stomach rolled – and all he wanted was to get away from these people, and their sick and horrible futures. Maybe he ought just to stay away from Hogwarts – then he would not have to see any of this, would not have to see people die.

"James, sweety, don't be that nervous. I'm sure you will make lots of friends – always remember, all the other new students are just the same as you are, so why don't you go ahead and try to make friends first?" his mother had crouched down, and was smiling at him.

"Listen to your mother," his father added, resting a warm hand on his shoulder.

And with a forced smile, James boarded the Hogwarts express. In his confusion he did not look back, but headed straight for the first empty compartment he could find, storing away his trunk before dropping into the worn seat with a sigh. He felt shaky in a way he had not felt before. When he had woken up earlier this morning, those memories had been bewildering, strange – but their true horror only began to show now that he found himself surrounded by people he knew would die in a horrible fashion or end up committing terrible crimes.

The memory of how much fun Hogwarts had been had faded instantly.

And if he was going to survive the next seven years, he needed to find a way to cope. He couldn't just go around telling people – they'd lock him away in 's at once. Maybe he could learn to ignore what he knew. Maybe he could…

The door to his compartment was pulled open, and in stumbled – unlike he remembered – Sirius Black, looking annoyed in his very proper high-collared, embroided white shirt and black trousers. James' heart skipped a beat – whattodo howtoact howtomake -

His thoughts drew to a sudden halt. He and Sirius had not met like this in his memory. Which meant …

"Quit staring at me," Sirius said, "I didn't choose to wear this."

"No, I didn't think so," replied James, "I wouldn't have worn that either."

Sirius grimaced. "Obviously you get to have a say, then. I'm Sirius, by the way."

James returned the grin – contagious, really – and shook the outstretched hand. For a split second, memories flashes through his mind – wild, exhilarated laughter, shouting matches, an aloof-looking mother, a stern father, a big black dog, more shouting, and then those long, depressing years in Azkaban until everything came to a dreary finale that night at the ministry – and then those were gone and James couldn't help but detach those memories from the cheerful boy in front of him.

"Well, Sirius Noname, I'm James Potter. Nice to meet you?" He tilted his head.

"Always a pleasure to meet you, as long as your last name isn't Malfoy. Or Black. Or … say, you don't have any ambitions to join Syltherin, do you?" Sirius got up and begun rummaging in his trunk.

"None whatsoever," replied James. His memories may have informed him that there was a lot of prejudice involved here – but that did not change that he, especially in light of his knowledge, would not like to join said house, and he still had overheard those quiet conversations between his parents – in which they discussed politics and houses.

"Great. Glad to meet you then. I'm trying not to head there, either," Sirius eventually procured a high-quality black robe from his trunk, "May be a little hard though, seeing how my entire family ended up there. But well, I'll change first. Everything else comes later."

Getting to know Sirius once again was much more fun than James had expected. Even though from time to time his "memories" got in the way – providing him with knowledge that made him want to protest – mostly this was entirely different from the first time around, yet still absolutely awesome.

It was some time into the ride, that Lily and Snape stumbled into their compartment. And a memory replayed itself, almost word by word. Hostility flared instantly between Sirius and Snape, while James couldn't blushing when he looked at Lily – she was cute, but those memories of being married made him feel rather uncomfortable right now.

Sirius then said something negative about Slytherin, and Snape snapped back. James, with a grin that felt familiar, sarcastically countered Snape's argument. And at that moment James realized that, even if their lines had changed, their personalities were the same as he remembered.

Did that mean things would play out the same way to?

Would he marry Lily, and die? Would Sirius go to Azkaban, and die? Would Snape join Voldemort, and die?

An ice cold sensation crept down his back. Was everybody going to die? Did it mean nothing that their lines had changed?

Lily was already out in the corridor, her hand firmly clasped around Snape's wrist, and Sirius kept laughing. James swallowed. Unbidden, the memories rose - Snape protecting Harry, brewing late in the night, stumbling back from another meeting and another, until there was hardly any life left beyond those eyes, and Voldemort ordering his death had seemed more like relief than betrayal.

That was the future.

Unless...

James reached out and managed to get a grip on Snape's other arm, before Lily had managed to drag him out of the compartment.

"Calm down," he said, though he didn't quite know what else he was supposed to say. Sirius had stopped laughing at least, and raised an eyebrow, "Sorry if I upset you, I wasn't being really serious."

Snape turned to look wearily at him, while Sirius – for a moment – stared at James as if he had grown a second head. Then he snorted.

"True, I'm Sirius, after all," the dark-haired boy grinned, "Now, I don't think we heard your names yet."

Lily had relaxed at James' apology, and shut the door of the compartment. "Lily Evans," then she gave Snape a small push.

"Severus Snape," he said unwillingly.

"So, what makes you think is so great about being in Slytherin?" Sirius challenged, "My whole family's been there, and they're all completely nuts."

Lily opened her mouth, looking scandalized. James, however, was quite intrigued to see understanding cross Snape's face.

"And you think they're nuts because they've been in Slytherin?" asked Snape, while raising an eyebrow.

Sirius shrugged. "Well, if you knew them, you could tell there's a relation between those two. But then again, looking at you, you'd probably …"

James felt like groaning, but there was a soft knock on the door to their compartment, and before their argument could erupt anew, the door was opened by a brown-haired boy.

"Hello, I was wondering, is there still room in here?" he asked shyly.

James' felt his face lit up as he recognized Remus Lupin. At eleven he had far less scars then the man James had seen in his memories, but the way he held himself was strikingly similar. He was smaller than Sirius, but only a little smaller than James – and smaller than Lily, who was still standing.

"Sure, there's more than enough room over here," said James, "Why don't you sit down?"

"Thanks. I'm Remus Lupin, by the way," he closed the door behind him and dropped down next to Sirius.

"James Potter," he inclined his head, then nodded over to Sirius, "In the opposite corner we have Sirius Black. The redhead here is Lily Evans, and this –" he gave Snape's arm a shake, "- is Severus Snape. And I'm sure we're all very pleased to make your acquaintance."

There was a moment of utter silence. Only the clatter of the train filled the space between the five of them.

"Well, you heard his majesty," said Sirius eventually, "And will you all just sit down? I swear those seats don't bite!"

Lily eventually took the seat next to James, and he could have sworn there was faint smile on her face. Snape took the seat next to Lily in obvious confusion, and Remus dropped down next to Sirius with a relieved sigh.

"So, we were just talking about what houses we think we're going to be in," James took up their earlier conversation, "How about you?"

"I don't really know. Maybe Ravenclaw?", said Remus and from there they started a conversation that easily managed to fill the remaining hours of the train ride. Sirius and Snape still did not get along, but, James resumed, he had made an effort.

He certainly didn't like the dark-haired kid that almost seemed to hide behind Lily – his instincts were screaming. However those thrice-damned memories just made everything far more complicated. He couldn't well hate somebody who had helped a great deal in defeating the most evil wizard alive.

Sirius and Remus, however, were great. James felt they'd get along like a house on fire – just as he recalled. Maybe he ought to push Remus to reveal his secret a little earlier, as the boy appeared quite bothered by it. And Sirius was fantastic – even though from his memories James thought the other boy was a bit too reckless, a bit too spirited – but talking to him, James found he wouldn't have him any other way.

This left only Peter Pettigrew. According to his recollections he would only meet the boy in their dormitory in Gryffindor. Unless, of course, the course of events had changed.

Which had already started, James thought, his gaze lingering on Lily sitting in his compartment. Perhaps right now it was only their lines that were changing; places and the order in which things had occurred – but perhaps this could lead to more fundamental changes.

Maybe he ought to have thought about things a bit longer before he had stopped following the script. Maybe those memories were to have been his manual on how to defeat You-Know-Who. Maybe he had just crushed all their chances by his selfish decision to make Lily and Snape stay.

Maybe he was being selfish.

But, hearing Sirius laugh, seeing Lily smile and Remus nod cheerfully, he really did not want to watch them all die again.

tbc

Please feel free to share your thoughts and impressions with me. :-)