Full Summary: When Unspeakable Hemlock Potter has her corpse, quite literally, dropped before her with nothing but a broken Time-turner, a lock of hair and a strange black spot on the back of her neck as clues, it's a race against time to solve, and perhaps thwart, her own murder. They say nothing good ever comes for witches who meddle with time, but, then again, she's already dead, isn't she? Heavy Black Family focus. Fem!Harry/Black family (Alphard, Cygnus, Orion, Male!Narcissa, Male!Bellatrix).

Note: This wonderful idea, unfortunately, cannot be classed as my own and I cannot take full credit. I found it as a prompt on reddit and couldn't leave well enough alone. The prompt went as follows: Auror Harry Potter finds himself in a very literal race against time as he seeks to solve, and if possible prevent, the most high-profile murder case that the DMLE has dealt with since he began working there: his own. Basically the story would begin with the (seemingly) dead body of Harry Potter materializing into existence in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic one day, the only obvious clue as to what happened aside from the indicators of spell damage being the now broken remnants of a Time Turner clutched in his hand, with the living counterpart seeking to avert what everyone assures him is his now inevitable demise. Obviously, I've changed it up a little, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway!

Prologue:

A Tuesday Morning.

Hemlock Potter's P.O.V

It was a Tuesday morning in the bonny days of spring that Unspeakable Hemlock Potter had her most notorious case, quite literally, slammed before her. At twenty, one of the youngest Unspeakables ever recorded in wizarding history, Hemlock had been doing just fine for herself. Really, she had. More than fine, in fact.

She had a steady job, which she loved. She had a home, although Grimmauld place could never quite be classed as… Welcoming, it suited the redheads tastes just dandy. She had friends, a social life, and, of course, still visited the Weasley's every Sunday for lunch. Sure, she was a little, only a little, lonely. Perhaps, some nights, she felt a bit aimless. Restless. Helpless. A bit too full of these 'less's in truth. Yet, that was normal, surely? It was.

Life was good.

Life was great.

Then she went into work on a Tuesday morning.

It had started like every other Tuesday. Boring. Drab. She awoke, went for a jog, got home at half six in the morning, grabbed a shower, spotted the clock ticking away in the kitchen, realised she was now ten minutes late for work, apparated outside the Ministry of Magic with a piece of toast dangling out her mouth, and dashed in side. Holstein was going to chew her out. Again.

She only made it halfway across the atrium, towards the floo that would take her to the top floor, when it happened. It was not everyday a body, broken, bleeding, bruised, came materializing out of the stodgy air of the Ministry of Magic atrium to drop at your feet.

It was even less expected that the body would be your own.

There was something unseemly about seeing yourself staring back from vacant, dead eyes.

It was a Tuesday morning that Unspeakable Hemlock Potter had her own corpse dropped unceremoniously before her, a shattered time-turner dangling from snapped neck, the slick sense of dark magic still lingering on the swiftly cooling skin, and, there, right there, tight in a frozen fist, a lock of black hair ensnared between twisted, cracked fingers, ripped from someone's scalp.

She thought it might be, just might be, acceptable to say she had not been alright since.

She doubted she ever would be again.

The proof was there, right in front of her shiny, dragon hide boots.

She was dead.

Bloody hell.

Thoughts?

I know the prologue is extremely short, but I wanted to post a little taster to see if anybody bites before I really get going lmao. Either way, I hope you liked this little hint and are looking forward to what is to come! If you have a spare moment or two, make sure to review, and hopefully, I will see you guys again soon.