A/N: So my first foray into the world of Harry Potter and I figured I'd go the cliched root of writing a time travel fic (sorta). I am hoping that I can put my own spin on it though. This is un-beta'd and I am looking for one since my grammar is horrible and I'd like to have someone to bounce ideas off of.

Pairing: Tom Riddle/Harry Potter/Lucius Malfoy (I do want to add Snape and/or Rabastan but I'm not sure yet. Lemme know what you all think.)

7/29/16 Now being beta'd by Vampygurl402. Every beta'd chapter will have this note with the date, if you have already read this chapter not to worry there are only minor grammar changes.

Disclaimer: I am much to perverted to own this.

Chapter 1

September 2515

Green eyes, once glowing with life and power, now dull and lifeless, looked up at the cloaked figure hovering above his bed. He had seen what was beneath that cowl once, their first meeting; horribly beautiful and terrifyingly kind. The being was a contradiction of all things.

"I won't be able to see you or talk to you, right?"

"No Master." The being's dulcet voice was a lure to what should be his final rest, but that was not meant to be.

"You're sure they will come back to me?" His question was filled with doubt; Death had been his constant companion for so long that to know they were parting, even if it was temporary, was terrifying.

"There is a reason only you have been able to collect and hold on to all of my Hallows and since I am only rewinding time and not sending you elsewhere you will collect them again, however there is a possibility that it may be sooner this time. Now, stop stalling you do not have much time left."

"I'm sorry. I will miss you my friend." He replied sadly and looked down at the plain black book in his frail hands. The book was almost an exact replica of a diary he had destroyed long ago, that was the reason he had chosen it for this. A pale hand landed gently on his shoulder jolting him from his thoughts.

"Just because you will not be able to see me does not mean that I will not be there; I will check in on you as often as I am able. However, I will not be able to interfere until you have all of my Hallows within your possession but you will have Magic and Fate to guide you on your way, you have only to ask for assistance."

"Thank you for everything, my friend. I will look forward to our next meeting." And with those final words he took the innocuous looking book between both hands and closed his eyes. He gathered as much of his failing magic as he could and pushed it all into his hands and the book. "Mother Magic hear my plea. Help me with this last matter so that I may undo all the wrong that has been done unto you." Tears leaked from under closed eyelids as Magic gathered around him. She was so weak.

My Child. She 'spoke' and Her 'voice' was a soothing balm to his troubled mind. I thank you for your sacrifice. You already know what to do. Gather it all; your memories, knowledge and feelings. I will seal them along with your conscious mind and embed them in the book. To release the bind you just need to say, Solvo Mentis Intra. Are you ready Child?

He took a deep breath and prepared himself for what was to come. It was only a matter of minutes before Magic gathered enough strength to do what she needed. A bright blue-green light lit the dim room and the book fell from limp hands.

The cloaked figure picked up the book and tucked it into his robes for safekeeping until just the right time. The man was now a clean slate and the cloaked being could now safely rewind time without the worry that all of his precious knowledge would be lost. He looked down into blank eyes and began to unravel time back to the start or end depending on how you looked at it.

Death stopped time, appearing before the small white door to the cupboard under the stairs. He passed through the door and knelt next to the mattress that held a small child. He waited for just the right moment before dropping the small innocuous looking book in his lap. Death watched the child startle and turned to leave. "Until next we meet." He whispered as he disappeared.

July 1990

A little boy lay on a hard mattress covered only by a thick blanket; he stared into the darkness above his head and waited. Soon he would be 10, a few more minutes and he would be another year closer to leaving his relatives behind. He always stayed up and waited until midnight the night before his birthday, it was his tradition and he had been doing it since he could remember. He always lay in bed and daydreamed about the life he would have when they were no longer around.

He was startled from his daydream when something landed on his legs with a dull thump. The boy sat up carefully and reached down for whatever it was cautiously. Calloused fingers met something warm, smooth and rectangular. He blinked in surprise, it was a book but it was unlike any book he had ever picked up before. The pages were thick and it pulsed almost as if it had a heartbeat.

He clasped one hand around the book and levered himself up off his dingy mattress with the other. He was lucky they hadn't locked the cupboard door; he pushed it open quietly and stuck his head out, listening for anyone who might happen to be awake. When he was met with complete silence he tiptoed to the kitchen to get a better look at this book that appeared from thin air.

It was a small, leather bound book with blank pages; like a diary or journal. He frowned down at the seemingly average looking book. No matter what his so called family said, he wasn't stupid; too many odd things have happened to him and the way his relatives look at him and call him freak, and he certainly knew how to add. Now he just had to figure out what exactly was he supposed to do with a blank book that appeared out of nowhere.

Well, it was blank so that meant that someone was supposed to write in it. He shrugged his shoulders and figured he'd give it a try: the worst that could happen was nothing. So he grabbed a torch from under the kitchen sink and a pen from one of the drawers and scurried back to his cupboard, making sure to close the door quietly behind him.

He turned the torch on and laid it to the side, pointing to the wall nearest him. Lying the book down in front of the torch light he opened it to the first blank page and paused. What was he supposed to write in the bloody book? He hadn't thought this far ahead. He chewed on the end of the pen while he contemplated what he was supposed to do now.

He sighed and just wrote.

Why did you come to me?

He rolled his eyes at himself. It wasn't like the stupid book was going to answer him. Then something decidedly odd happened. The words seemed to melt into the page and he jerked his hands back afraid that the same thing would happen to him. Then words began appearing just below where his faded.

Hello Harrison. That is a very simple question with a very complicated answer.

Harry just stared at the newly appeared words trying to figure out what just happened. When he thought the book wouldn't answer him, he was being sarcastic. Now he was very confused and a little scared to be honest.

My name is Harry and how is this happening?

Harry is short for something. Anyone with a pureblooded parent wouldn't name their child something so mundane. As for how this is happening, that's part of the 'complicated answer'.

What?

Oh I suppose I went on a bit of a rant there. It has been so long that I had forgotten how we grew up and on top of that you're only 10. Well, I guess the best place to start would be…I'm sure you've noticed all the odd things that happen to you, well that is because you are a wizard Harrison. As for me, I am a magical book with the knowledge, memories and magic of another person.

I would like to say I don't believe you but I am talking to a book. Who and why do you have all that stuff from them?

We don't have the time for me to answer that question tonight. As it is you are going to be tired tomorrow and you have a lot of chores to get through so you should get some sleep and I will explain all when you next go to bed.

I don't think I'll be able to sleep much. Who could when they have a magical book and was just told they were a wizard?

I am sorry and I know you have many questions but I don't want you to lose anymore sleep because of me. I promise as soon as we have more time I will explain everything.

Okay. Goodnight Book.

Goodnight Harrison.

Harry closed the book, shut off the torch and hid all three items under his mattress. He place his glasses in a safe spot and laid back down forcing his mind to clear so he could get a little bit of sleep.

...

Morning dawned very bright and much too early for Harry. He was startled from sleep by loud banging and his Aunt's shrill voice yelling that he had 5 minutes to use the loo and then he needed to get started on breakfast for everyone.

Harry scrambled from his cupboard and rushed to the bathroom to do his business before scurrying to the kitchen. He had half his mind on the cooking while he thought up a dozen different questions for the book.

The rest of the day was spent doing his long list of chores, the worst of which was gardening; between the heat and lack of food Harry had to stop often and for very short periods of times so that his Aunt wouldn't catch him slacking off.

He was finally able to take a quick cool shower after making and serving dinner for the Dursleys. For once he was excited to get back to his cramped cupboard. The light from the sitting room dimly lit the small space so he had no reason to pull out the torch just the book with the pen tucked between the pages.

Do you have a name? I can't keep calling you book and since you hold the memories from a person I am guessing that you do.

Yes I have a name and I am going to explain a few things before I tell you what it is. The person who made this book was a wizard from the year 2515.

Why?

Magic is dying Harrison and with the help of Magic and Death the wizard used the last of his own slowly draining core to create this book.

What happened to him? And how did he get the book to this time?

Well, the wizard poured everything but his soul into this book so after Magic bound it all together and he became a clean slate; almost like a baby just before it's born. After that Death rewound time.

Why didn't he just keep all that stuff if Death could rewind time?

If he had kept everything he would have lost it all when time was rewound because everything that had been done, Death undid.

Oh, that makes sense. So Magic is dying; the person who made you, Magic, and Death all worked together to send you back here to do what? Stop that from happening?

Essentially.

So why come to me?

Before I explain that I must tell you that no matter what I say, your life is yours. I will not make you do anything you don't want and if you say so I will help you disappear and figure out a way to accomplish what I need to.

Okay, now I'm a little scared but tell me anyways.

You are one of a handful of Magic's chosen children. That means you and the others are the ones who will be able to aid in her survival. I know you are only 10 years old and you don't deserve to have this kind of thing put on your shoulders so young but none of us have much of a choice.

If that's so then why are you giving me one?

Because Harrison the person who made this book, his name was Harrison James Potter-Black and for most of his life he was lied to and manipulated and given no choice. I contain all of his memories, his conscious, and feelings. I am you basically and I won't do to you what others have done to me and eventually you.

Harry's mind blanked and it took him a few minutes to process everything he was just told. The person who made this book was him from the future; he lived to be 535 (it took him another minute to count that out) and two sorts of divine/mythical beings? Entities? Needed his and a few others help to save Magic. Okay, that probably wasn't all but for now those were the biggest things he could focus on.

Harry wasn't sure of the things his future self had gone through or been made to go through but he did appreciate the truth and the illusion of an option to back out. Only there really wasn't much choice, he just learned that he was a wizard and there was no way he was going to give that up. With his mind made up he began writing again.

What do I need to do?

Are you sure this is the path you want to take? It won't be easy I assure you that. There is a way for you to receive every piece of me from this book and I warn you now I have done many things that you may not approve of as well as had many things done to me that are not pleasant. The best guarantee that I can make is that it will seem as if you were someone else watching.

So I will know everything you know about magic and how to do it and what to do to stop it from dying?

I don't know everything but 500 years has given me a lot of time to learn much. You will gain knowledge of Magic and our world but it will take practice for you to master spells and I only have a rough idea of how to go about stopping the death of Magic. The others will be able to help as well.

How come you and the others weren't able to do anything?

We didn't have enough warning before wizards, witches, and magical creatures started dying. We tried but with as little time as we had, we slowly started dying as well.

Anything else I need to know before I do this, besides knowing how?

You will probably end up with a headache worse than anything you have ever had to endure because of the sheer amount of knowledge and memories you will receive. The Magic and conscious part will repair something as it passes through you and when those are done they will integrate with your conscious and magic.

There's something wrong with me?

Not wrong per say, just something in you that wasn't meant to be. Nothing to worry about you will understand more once you have all the memories. Before I tell you what to do, do you remember the feeling you had before anything odd happened to you?

Harry thought back to what happened in class when he turned the teacher's hair blue and when he appeared on that roof when he had been running from Dudley and his gang.

Sort of.

Okay, close your eyes and try to regain that feeling; the tingling rush that you got before everything happened and when you can feel it try to imagine gathering a small amount of it into a small ball in your hand.

Harry closed his eyes and remembered and felt. It took much longer than he thought it might to find what he was feeling for but eventually he did feel it; the tingling rush of power almost like electricity right in the pit of his stomach. He knew he wasn't seeing with his eyes but if he had been, he imagined he'd have been blind from looking at the bright blue-green ball of power. He pictured drawing a thread of magic and wrapping it much like a ball of yarn until it was coin sized. Once that was done he sort of pushed it up from his stomach to his chest and shoulder, he could feel it coursing down his arm and his whole palm began tingling.

Harry opened his eyes slowly and saw the small ball of magic sitting in his palm. He laughed breathlessly and finally realized he was sweating and out of breath. He let go of the magic and it faded instantly. He used the bottom of his overly large shirt to wipe the sweat off his face and could feel exhaustion starting to set in.

I did it. I have no idea how long it took but that was hard and now I'm really tired.

Yes, gathering your magic like that is very tiring but also good for you. It will help you with control and strengthening your core. But now that you are able to access your core you will be able to do what needs to be done. When you're ready place both hands on the book, you need to want this to happen, truly want it and will it with Magic. If you are absolutely sure say these words with intent and will, Solvo Mentis Intra. If you don't want it or have any doubts it will not work.

I am ready.

Harry placed both hands on open diary, gathered his magic and channeled it to his hands. "Solvo Mentis Intra." He said his voice low but clear.

For one second Harry was afraid that he might have done it wrong, and then it started; the rapid fire of images flickering behind his eyelids, too fast to keep up with, and the feelings associated with them. He bit his lip, forcing himself to be quiet while tears streamed down his face. It felt like hours later when the chaos inside his head finally died down and when the pain hit, he blacked out.