Quicksilver's Log: Welcome, one and all, to the beginning of what I hope shall, by the end, be my Magnum Opus. If not, I tried. But I won't bore you with a long opening note. All relevant information will be posted on my profile.

'I don't know if you've ever let someone down, got your ass kicked or straight up failed. But those are the moments that define us. They push you further than you've ever thought possible and force you to make choices. No matter what the cost. I was told once that everything I did to save them all was foolishness, that might controls everything, and without strength, you cannot protect anything, let alone yourself,' stated an obviously magical voice-over of eighteen year old wizard Harry Potter that only he and the Castle of Hogwarts, including her resident Ghosts, magical creatures and portraits could hear. 'I have won the war, but along the way, I lost everything. My parents, along with my friend Neville Longbottom's parents were the first casualties. After them, my godfather, my adoptive uncle, my best female friend, my best mate, not to mention his entire family, including my girlfriend, along with countless others died, all unnecessarily so. Every bit of this could've been avoided if the crazy bastard who instigated all of this hadn't heard the thrice-damned prophecy that stated I would have the power to defeat him. He killed my parents and attempted to kill me seventeen years ago. The power he knows not? Bullshit. I got lucky. He attacked me with a Killing Curse and I somehow reflected it back at him. Happened again just a few days ago. That bastard was finally dead. After seventeen years and countless faceoffs, he was finally defeated by me. I was the Master of the Deathly Hallows, the "Master of Death".

'But it didn't matter. It was a pyrrhic victory. At least to me. Everybody else in the entirety of the Wizarding World was celebrating. I have lost so much over my eighteen years of life. Ten days after the final battle, and it's time to set things right. I've found a spell, a ritual really, that allows one to meet with the Master of Time, and should this deity believe your cause worthy, he shall allow you to go back in time and change it all, within reason.'

Indeed, Harry had found a spell that would allow one to transport themselves to the Realm of Time and gain an audience with the Master of Time. It was an intricate ritual that took most of the ten days to perform. Finally, Harry was finished. With a few final, intricate patterns waved with his wand, the runic circle he was standing in flashed white, and with that, Harry Potter was gone.

Next Harry knew, he was in a gray room with a large throne against the wall. Seated upon the throne was a bored looking teen in a black duster over a dress shirt and pants, his chin cupped in his right hand.

"State your full name, age, year of departure, requested year of return, and reason for returning." The teen seemed almost irritated, and spoke with an American accent.

"Harrison James Potter, 18. Year of departure, 1998. Requested date of return, 1 August, 1993. My reason for returning is thus: I wish to set right all that has gone wrong from my third year on at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, because, by being kept out of the loop consistently by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, I was, intentionally on Headmaster Dumbledore's part, ill-prepared for the self-styled Dark 'Lord' Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, and I lost everything dear to me. I admit this is a semi-selfish mission, however, I also wish to learn much more about magic than I was able to in the original timeline, to be much better prepared for Voldemort."

"Granted."

"I'm sorry?"

"I said your request is granted. Are you deaf?"

"No, no. I was just expecting to have to plead my case a bit more. Why am I being granted this, may I ask?" Harry was genuinely confused, the book had clearly stated that he would have to plead his case three or four times, each in different ways before the Master would truly grant or deny his request.

"Because you are a favorite of my sisters, Fate, Destiny and Death. They would kill me if I denied your request. Or at least bring me as close to death as a deity can be. That and I agree with your cause, and I wish to see those upstarts put in their places," the Master said.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up. First off, Death is female? Second off, why am I their favorite?"

"Yeah, the deity of Death is female, a Goddess. It's actually not that surprising if you think about it, Death supposedly being the most vindictive deity. 'Hell hath no fury' and all that nonsense. You're their favorite because you constantly defy Fate, you've changed your Destiny on multiple occasions, and you've cheated Death no less than a dozen times. Plus, you are the Master of her three creations."

Harry started slightly upon hearing this. "I would think that that would make them hate me."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But they actually like people who defy them. I guess they got tired of all the people who've just fallen in line over the last few millennia. Confuses the fuck outta me. Oh well. What are you gonna do. Can't live with them, can't live without them."

Suddenly, there were three vaguely feminine shapes behind the Master.

"I'm sorry, Garrett. Did we hear you say something?" The three asked imperiously.

"Ah, no. No you did not, Elena, Desiree, Cathryn."

"That is too funny. The God of Time is his sisters' bitch. Now, so I'm not calling you three your titles, who is who?" Harry asked.

The three smiled. The tallest, who looked to be about 5'7", and maybe two years older than him said, with a slight, but still noticeable French accent, "I'm Elena, Goddess of Fate."

The middle one, who stood at about 5'4" and looked about a year older said in an English accent, "Desiree, Goddess of Destiny."

The shortest, about 5'1", exactly a foot shorter than Harry, who looked about the same age as him, said with an American accent, "And I'm Cathryn, the Goddess of Death, and by far your biggest fan, because you've evaded meeting me before your time more than any other person in history, even your ancestor Ignotus."

"Oh, Christ. A divine fangirl. Will the torture never cease?" Harry moaned before Cathryn appeared in his face. "Yikes!"

"Well, you'll find that I'm not a fangirl. A fan who is a girl, yes, but I'm different than the rest. I like you for you, but I'm a fan separately," she explained. Then she continued, apparently to herself, "Like that girl, Hermione."

"Wait, Hermione? Hermione Granger? My best friend in the world, the first one who became my friend because of my personality, not my fame, liked me?" Harry asked, sounding almost like a strangled chicken.

"Of course. Don't tell me you really didn't notice? I thought you just didn't like her like that," Cathryn said confusedly. Then a spark appeared in her eyes. "Harry, I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Did you ever perhaps feel strange around Ginny, like maybe after you drank something at the Weasley's or after she or maybe Ron gave you something to drink?" Cathryn asked.

"Now that you mention it, starting in Fourth Year, every time I drank something Molly, Ginny, or Ron handed me, I felt really giddy, and felt like I should just go to Ginny and ask her out. I fought it until mid-Sixth Year, and then I just gave in," Harry answered thoughtfully. Then, as though a light bulb lit in his brain, said, "Wait... Love potions! Amortentia specifically. I remember that everything they would hand me smelled faintly like vanilla, ink and fresh parchment. Just like..."

"Just like what? Or whom?"

"Just like Hermione. Even under the influence of the Amortentia, my favorite scents were what Hermione smelled like." Then a fire lit behind his eyes. "Dumbledore did this. I know he did. Molly was his most radical supporter. His Bellatrix Lestrange. He would've set up any scenario she asked him to. She was tired of only having the bare minimum necessary to survive, which of course was because she wouldn't close her legs because of her desperate want for a daughter to instigate this very scenario. So she went to Dumbledore to ask him for a way to get Ginny and I together, and he, believing that aligning me to a pureblood, Light-aligned family was for the Greater Good, acquiesced. That manipulative bastard!"

"I see. So Adrian was right. Dumbledore has been manipulating events for years," Elena said, obviously troubled.

Harry wracked his brain, but couldn't think of anyone he knew named Adrian, least of all one who could converse with Fate herself, until he realized it could only be one person, well, entity really. "The Sorting Hat speaks with you?"

"Ah, so you did figure it out on your own. Yes, Adrian, the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts converses with me regularly. He is directly linked to me. Clever bit of magic Gryffindor did with that one, clever indeed," Elena said almost reverently. "But remember Harry. Knowing a name brings power over the one that name belongs to. That is why knowing that Voldemort is the halfblood Tom Riddle gives you an advantage that all others besides Albus Dumbledore do not have. We gave you ours because we explicitly trust you not to use them for your own gain. But also remember that fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself."

"I understand."

"Good. Now, before you go, please allow us to grant you with a few gifts."

"Gifts? I couldn't possibly accept..." Harry began.

Garrett cut in for the first time since the goddesses appeared. "We insist, Harry. I shall remove all magical blocks on you. Since you were deposited at your relatives', you have had a block on approximately three-quarters of your magic, not to mention a block on approximately three-quarters of your mental faculties, likely done by Dumbledore because of your relatives' intense hatred for magic. What this means is that all the amazing magic you've done - driving away over one hundred Dementors with a fully corporeal Patronus in Third Year, Summoning your Firebolt from well over a half-mile away, and through Hogwarts at that, in Fourth Year, resisting Voldemort's possession in Fifth Year - was with seventy-five percent of your magic sealed away. Also, with the mental block, that means that your mind is only working at twenty-five percent capacity, meaning that once this block is released, you should have a near eidetic memory, have a thinking speed approximately equal to Hermione, and your deductive reasoning should be through the roof."

Elena stepped forward. "I shall give you a grimoire that will contain sections on ancient magics, Occlumency and Legilimency, magical creatures, duelling, nonmagical armed and unarmed combat - these sections will also come with a magical imprint of a tutor on them - and methods for destroying Horcruxes besides the ones you already know."

Next came Desiree. "My gift shall be to allow up to four people to return with you. Who shall you choose?"

Harry blinked. "Seriously? Alright... Hermione, obviously, Neville, and how about Luna. Number four? I suppose I would like you to send Severus back with his memories. Could you perhaps inform him of Dumbledore's machinations as well? Also, I don't want him completely sent back, but could you give younger Draco the information on how his life will end up if he follows the path set before him? If I could befriend the one who was my greatest enemy at Hogwarts the first time through, perhaps I could change the school for the better, turn them all away from believing Dumbledore is the end-all, be-all of everything."

"I suppose all of that could be arranged."

Harry bowed deeply and said, "Thank you."

Finally, it was Cathryn's turn. "My gift will be twofold. First, give me your wand and the Elder Wand."

Harry handed over his holly and phoenix feather wand and the Elder Wand to the goddess. Cathryn placed the two end to end in her hands and began chanting in Latin. Suddenly, a large burst of light blinded the group.

When the flash died down, Cathryn stood in the same spot, holding a six-foot long staff which was obviously created from the two wands. The staff was straight and smooth, and looked as though the two wands had twisted around each other as they fused and lengthened. Cathryn handed Harry the staff.

"I believe that you should be able to retain my treasures when you return. Therefore, I fused your wand and my creation together. Your wand, or staff rather, is the new Elder Wand. When you return, Dumbledore's shall become an ordinary wand. The Resurrection Stone of the original timeline shall be in the ring it was placed in before, and shall be on your hand when you return. The one in the remade timeline shall be an ordinary stone, however, it will still be a Horcrux. And the Cloak of True Invisibility shall be next to your bed when you return."

"Thank you, but how will I hide the fact that my wand is a staff?" Harry asked.

"Will it to become a wand."

"Oh," Harry said simply.

He looked at the staff in his hand and focused willing it to become a regular sized wand. The Elder Staff, as he decided to call it now, glowed in an ethereal white light before shrinking down. When the process was complete, he was holding a wand approximately thirteen inches long, halfway between his wand's eleven inches and the Elder Wand's fifteen. It still had the spiral wood pattern, however.

"How am I supposed to hide the fact that my wand looks different if I am going back to just before Third Year, rather than First Year?"

Garrett spoke up. "I don't believe that will be a problem at all."

"If you say so," Harry said, shrugging.

"Alrighty then. My second gift to you will be to remove that hideous soul fragment from your forehead once we revert you to your younger form. The scar will remain, however," Cathryn said.

"Well, it has become a part of me, a part of who I am, sadly. Alright. So is that it for your gifts?" Harry asked.

"Actually, no. There is one last one from all of us. We are going to make your body structure and muscle mass match what it should at the age you will be reverted to. As we must send you back at the same time we revert you in age, this will be done in the time you sleep after we send you back. Same with Cathryn's Horcrux removal," Garrett said.

"Okay, then."

"Now, Harrison James Potter, I have one last question for you. Are you ready?"

"Let's do this shit."

As soon as Harry spoke these words, everything around him disappeared, and he heard one final thing said by all four deities together, "If you ever have need of any of us, go to the Room of Requirement and think of this place. We shall appear."

Then blackness.

The deities all looked to each other after Harry disappeared, before Elena and Desiree asked simultaneously, "Think we should've told him?"

Garrett and Cathryn looked to each other and simultaneously responded, "Nah."

Harry awoke, not to Dudley's second bedroom, but to the dusty insides of the cupboard under the stairs. Looking to the calendar, he saw that the date was not, in fact, 1 August, 1993. It was 30 June, 1991.

It was before First Year.

He was ten.

They had tricked him.

"Bloody fucking buggering SHIT!"

Quicksilver's Log: Well, there's chapter one out of the way. Sorry if it's a bit clunky, but Jeremy (again, my muse and evil alter ego) just wouldn't let me do anything else until I pumped this out. First actual chapter I'm posting on , so please give feedback. If you flame, I will let Jeremy out to play in responding to your hateful ass. You don't want that. Don't like it? Don't read it. If you like it, review, favorite, follow, whatever! Just do something to let me know that I have fans who like it.

Credit for the opening speech goes to inFAMOUS 2 for the first four sentences. The second part is credited to Devil May Cry 3: Dante's Awakening. Just wanna put that out there.