Harry Potter and the Balm of Time 2

A/N - Hello again! I'm back with another Balm of Time story and, as previously, it has been heavily inspired by Back to the Future. I love getting reviews but please don't ask me about the actual time travel aspect of things, I use the same model as Back to the Future because it's easy and I figure if it's good enough for Stephen Spielberg then it is good enough for me. I'm a fan fiction author not a scientist, so suspend your disbelief and just enjoy the story... it's only been written for your enjoyment and mine. I know it's not long, it's really more of a prologue than a chapter, but I hope you enjoy it and I hope you leave a review for me.

One more bit of housekeeping, I don't know how often updates will be as this is still a work in progress. I can only promise that it will be completed... one day.

Chapter 1 - History never repeats

Rosalind watched in dismay as the Neo-Death Eaters continued to poke and prod at her father and her head pounded in agony. She had tried everything she could to save him, but nothing had worked, and she knew, with every particle of her being, that if she didn't think of something he would die within the hour. Just as he had the first time around.

Once he was dead a plague of these Neo-Death Eaters would descend upon her grandparents home, where so many of his loved ones were gathered for his 21^st birthday, and they'd kill them all in one fell swoop. Even Dumbledore, who had been somewhat of a recluse since the second downfall of Voldemort, had been in attendance and had met the same fate as everyone else.

Her own mother had survived only because she'd been waiting at home for him to return before going to the party. They had a clock in their living room which showed his whereabouts, much like a clock which had once lived at the burrow (or so she'd been told).

Right now, she knew, her mother had stopped what she was doing and was staring transfixed at the clock which showed that her husband, Harry Potter, was in mortal peril. Her mother had often said that she used to find great comfort in that clock because, no matter how dangerous the mission seemed, it only ever showed him as being at work. Today would be the first time that it spun to Mortal Peril and she knew, that her mother, Hermione Potter, would continue to sit and stare at the clock, unable to move or think, until the hand fell off entirely.

She glanced at her watch again, there were only a few minutes left before her father's life would be ended and as much as she hated to see him suffering (the death eaters now making liberal use of the cruciatus curse) she needed more time, but she'd already had more time than she should have, thanks to a certain potion.

She thought back to the events that had lead her here, searching for some clue, some lose thread to pull that would allow her to unravel this horrible mess and start over. But she found none.

She'd been in the past for six months; it was as much time as she could have because the potion didn't allow travel back further than the moment of conception. In that time she'd joined the Auror's and chased down every lead she could find, desperately searching for something that would show people here what was about to happen. But there was nothing.

She had never quite believed her mother when she'd said that there had been no clue of the revolution that had been brewing beneath them. She should have known better, her father wasn't the most famous and feared Auror ever because he overlooked things.

She'd tried to use her position as a fellow Auror to become friends with her dad, she'd hoped that she could influence him to see what was happening and maybe together they could avoid this. But that hadn't worked either. She was a junior Auror and he was simply too well known and too busy to have much to do with her. Not to mention that he was utterly suspicious of new people, six months was no-where near enough time to work her way in to his trust.

She'd even considered just telling her parents the truth but she'd believed that she could fix this herself and by the time she'd realised how wrong she was it was too late.

She fidgeted under her invisibility cloak, feeling helpless and wretched, and glanced once more at her watch. In another minute he'd be dead and there wasn't anything she could do to stop it. He was surrounded by Death Eaters and, if the rumours were true, the Dark Lord was about to re-appear. It was widely believed that Voldemort had insisted on killing her father himself. The odds were too overwhelming; if she revealed herself she'd just end up dead along-side him.

Her stomach twisted with guilt at the thought of what would happen if she died as well. It was a hopeless situation.

An ironic smile twisted her lips, her father should have been perfectly safe then. Uncle Ron always said that her dad was at his best in hopeless situations. Whenever things seemed to be impossible he would charge in and somehow manage to fix everything. A lump formed in her throat. Her dad had always been the one to save people, she should have known that if he needed saving himself then the situation was beyond all hope.

She felt like such a failure, she was certain that if their situations were reversed he would know exactly what to do. If he knew what she did, he would have found a way to fix this.

Then Voldemort appeared and she knew that she had to act, she couldn't let this happen again. Like a lightning bolt to the brain she suddenly knew what she could do. She didn't know what the consequences of her actions would be, but she did know what would happen if she failed to act. If she did nothing her father would die, her grandparents would die, her aunt and uncle, and everyone else that had mattered to her parents, would all die. She couldn't just stand by and let that happen.

`Well, well, Harry Potter, I suppose that you never expected to see me again.' Voldemort was saying

Harry spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor before replying politely, `Tom, this is an unpleasant surprise. You came to wish me a happy birthday, I suppose'

But Rosalind barely paid them any attention, she was too busy pulling the stopper of her hip flask (as quietly as possible) and once it was out she took a sip of the potion before returning the stopper to its place and the flask to her pocket.

`I am glad that none of my loyal followers told you of my return, I did so want it to be a surprise.'

As they continued to talk she made her way closer to where her father was being held. She wasn't sure if it was going to work because everything she'd ever been told said that both travellers had to take a sip of the potion. But she was almost certain that no-one had actually tried what she was about to attempt and, if it was going to work, she only needed to get one hand onto him and hold on tight.

Harry laughed, but there was no mirth in it, `You certainly succeeded there, if you don't mind me asking Tom, how did you survive?'

She was right next to him now, wedged in tightly so as not to give her presence away to any death eaters. He must have known she was there, he must have been able to feel her pressed up against him as she was, but he gave no indication that anything was amiss.

The dark lord laughed, `No, Harry, I'm not going to give away all my secrets. I have learned a lesson that you failed to, I don't trust anyone.'

From her close proximity to her father she saw his eyes narrow, `someone I trust has betrayed me somehow?' he demanded.

The dark lord simply laughed in response, `Not to trust anyone isn't the only lesson I learned from our last encounter. This time I'm not going to waste time talking to you, or even torturing you, I'm just going to kill you.'

The Dark Lord raised his wand but, before he could even draw breath, Rosalind made her move. She grabbed her father's arm as tightly as she could and apparated away to the only place she knew, without a doubt, was safe.

She took him to her mother's library.

She took him, back to the future.

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A/N - Sorry for the lengthy delay, I won't bore you with my problems but suffice it to say that inspiration dried up for a time. None of this has been BETA read, and Chapter 1 has been altered ever so slightly, so a re-read is probably in order. Again try not to think too hard about how the time travel aspect of it works, it's all just for fun

Chapter 2 - Dead Man Stalking

Harry slowly regained consciousness in a semi-darkened room that smelled more like a library than a hospital wing. He'd been pretty badly beaten up when he'd been rescued, so he'd expected to wake up in a hospital wing, but his long experience with waking up in hospital's was more than enough to tell him that's not where he was now.

`Hermione?' he called out, his voice raspy and strained.

`Oh, you're awake. Don't move, I'll come and give you something to drink, I expect you're rather parched.'

He recognised the woman's voice, though he couldn't place from where, but it certainly wasn't Hermione. He tried to sit up but was being restrained somehow, so he tried again, a little louder this time.

`Hermione?' his voice still came out as barely a croak.

`Sshh, it's ok. Here, drink this.'

His head was lifted into a soft lap and a cool glass was pressed against his lips, but he refused to drink. Mad-Eye had taught him better than that and he wasn't about to forget those lessons now, he'd already been caught off-guard once today and it had nearly cost him his life.

`Come on now, it'll make you feel better, I swear it.'

Harry only grunted in response and pressed his lips together more tightly. The Imperius Curse made you feel pretty good too, that didn't mean that you should just let someone cast it on you though.

`Ok, what'll it take? What do I have to do to convince you this won't hurt you?'

He glared at the fuzzy apparition above him there was nothing she could do; the only thing that would convince him he was safe right now would be for him to see Hermione.

`I can't get her for you,' the young woman said impatiently, she appeared to think for a moment then Harry saw movement. A second later felt his glasses being pressed into his hand and his invisible bonds gave way.

`Maybe if you can see where you are, then you'll trust me.'

Harry didn't see how knowing where he was would help but he wasn't about to let go of the opportunity to get his vision back. He hurriedly shoved the glasses onto his face and sighed in relief as the world of vision was restored to him.

He still felt a vague sense of recognition with the young girl who was sitting with his head in her lap, but at that moment it was easier to recognise his location than his captor. The knowledge of where he was only confused him more; he was lying in a bed in what looked like Hermione's library. He looked at the room more closely and, despite the superficial differences of extra furniture (including what looked like a little kitchenette in one corner), he became convinced that it was in fact Hermione's library.

Harry's gaze returned to the young girl, in whose lap his head still rested, and frowned.

`Now will you please drink this?' she asked, again pressing the glass against his lips.

Harry thought about all of the intricate protections he'd placed on this room less than a month ago, there was no way this girl could be in here unless she was implicitly trusted by either himself or Hermione, or was one of their direct descendents. Screwing up his Gryffindor courage, he took a big gulp of the offered potion. The soothing balm slipped over his tongue and down his throat spreading a cooling, numbing sensation as it went. He was surprised by how pleasant it tasted and how much better he felt.

`Do you want to sit up?' the girl asked him.

Harry didn't respond verbally, but just pushed himself into a sitting position. It appeared that she'd saved his life but that didn't make it appropriate for him to lay about with his head in her lap for any longer than absolutely necessary.

The girl remained silent, just watching as Harry looked around the room again, his keen eye taking in more detail this time around. The air had liberal air-freshening charms but still smelled slightly musty, it had also (clearly) seen heavy use but, despite that, a film of dust coated most things. The bed, the kitchen, the cauldron full of an eerily familiar potion, and the grandfather clock in the corner that had two hands on in it, but neither was Hermione's, led Harry to an inevitable (and horrifying) conclusion.

His gaze returned to the other occupant of the room a question unasked on his lips.

`Mum told me that your thoughts were always written plainly on your face, I never really understood what she meant until now.'

Everything she said, and didn't say, washed over Harry like a tidal wave.

`Where is Hermione?' Harry asked dreading the answer.

`She died about two months ago,' the girl looked away and Harry realised that she had her mother's eyes, `it took me a while to figure out what to do next, and even longer to brew that potion.'

Harry reeled, Hermione was dead.

The girl could see the shock on his face but she just kept talking, laying it all on him. In the confused swirl of his mind he managed to understand the pertinent details, he had died at Voldemort's hand. Then Voldemort and his death eaters had descended on Harry's 21^st birthday party and killed everyone in attendance. In one fell swoop Voldemort had managed to take out 98% of the people who would have opposed him, before they even realised that he was back and needed to be opposed.

At first they thought that the only people lucky enough to have survived were the one's who'd happened to be running late that day, and so weren't there when the massacre took place, but it became clear pretty quickly that there was a traitor amongst them as their remaining allies were picked off one at a time in places where they should have been safe.

`Finally Mum decided that she needed to flush out the traitor, she said I would know what to do if it all went wrong,' the girl sniffed, clearly still upset by the events that she was relating, `she told me that she was proud of me, and that she loved me, but she had to find out who the traitor was. She said you'd need to know.'

Harry's green eye's met his daughters luminous brown, he swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to speak calmly.

`Did she find out who it was?'

She nodded, `a few seconds before her hand dropped off the clock her patronus arrived here'

`What did it say?'

`Sabine'

`Lupin?' Harry asked, incredulous.

The girl, his daughter, nodded, `We thought she was working from within the ministry to try and destabilise the regime, but by the end only she and Uncle Ron were left; aside from Mum and me. Mum was almost certain that Uncle Ron wasn't the traitor, but she said she didn't know Sabine as well as she should, and that Uncle Ron had done some things when you were younger that made her doubt him.'

Harry nodded, `Yeah, he hasn't always been the most reliable friend in the world... but still, I can't believe he would do all this.'

`Mum said that too, but every betrayal could have come from him, and she wanted to be sure. I think she knew that the attempt would end badly, but I also think she knew that if it did I'd find a way to save you.'

Harry swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat again, `I...' he faltered, a pained look spreading over his handsome features, `I don't know what your name is,' he said finally, `we hadn't decided on a girl's name yet,' he added apologetically.

She gave him a tentative smile, `Its Rosalind, Mum said that she chose it because it was a Shakespearean name like hers but also a flower name, like your Mums.'

Harry smiled at her, `She chose well, it's a beautiful name.'

Rosalind just blinked at him, he could see the tears starting to well up in her eyes so he pulled her into a hug. He'd long since outgrown his discomfort with crying women, he'd never have survived Hermione's pregnancy if he hadn't, so he just held his daughter close and let her cry all of her frustration, grief, and loneliness into his shoulder. He couldn't fathom how much she'd been through, from the sounds of it she'd been raised inside this library and missed out on so much. She'd never attended Hogwarts, or played Quidditch; his own childhood (awful though it was in many ways) was nothing on what she'd had to endure.

`We'll fix this,' he whispered, `we will, I promise.'

`How?' she demanded, pulling back out of his embrace and glaring at him angrily, `YOU think YOU can fix this?' she was on her feet and screaming at him now, `YOU were the first one to die! YOU DIED 20 years ago! What do you think YOU can possibly achieve.'

Harry barely had a chance to blink and she was collapsed back onto the bed beside him and clutching at his arms again, crying and apologising, `I'm sorry, Dad, please don't be angry... I ... I didn't mean it.'

He put his arms around her again, more tentatively this time, `Do you have any calming draft?'

She nodded morosely and went to one of the kitchen cabinets, after she'd had a sip of the potion she sat back down again next to Harry.

`I'm sorry about all that,' she mumbled apologetically.

`You've got no reason to be,' he reassured her, `I can't even imagine how difficult this has been for you, and I know you've got no reason to think that I'll do anything but get myself killed, again, and leave you alone, again. I can promise that won't happen, but I know you've got no reason to believe it. They caught me by surprise before... It was supposed to be a milk-run. I was deliberately avoiding anything that looked even remotely dangerous for your Mum's sake, so I wasn't expecting to run into a whole swag of Death Eaters... let alone Voldemort himself.'

`I know, I saw how badly you were outnumbered.'

Harry grinned at her, `I don't mind being outnumbered so much, but I prefer to have the element of surprise on my side.'

Rosalind returned his smile, `Well you've got that this time, everyone thinks you've been dead for the past 18 years.'

`Everyone except Voldemort,' Harry corrected her, `I think he would have modified everyone else's memory so they don't know I escaped him again, especially as the years went by and I never turned up, but he won't have forgotten that I didn't die.'

Rosalind nodded, she had forgotten that, `right, so he'll be prepared for you to show up at any time.'

`Exactly, but it's unlikely that any-one else will be.' Harry stood up and began to pace up and down the library, his brow furrowed as he thought furiously, `The thing with surprise is, you only have one shot at it. Once I'm known to be back they'll all be on full alert, so we have to use this chance wisely.'

Rosalind nodded, `right, so who do we target?'

`We target Sabine, she must have been in on this since the beginning. In hindsight it makes sense, she was one of our researchers at the Auror department, she sent me out on the so-called “milk-run” that got me bloody killed. She wasn't at my 21^st when it was attacked, even though she should have been.'

`She must have been a traitor right from the start,' Rosalind agreed, horrified.

`Exactly, she'll have the information we need.'

Now Rosalind was confused, `What information do we need?'

Harry looked at her as though it should be obvious and after a second it clicked into place in her mind.

`Of course,' Rosalind whispered, surprised she hadn't realised sooner, `We need to know how he was brought back.'

`That's right, and she would know all the details. The only thing we need to know is where she is now.'

Rosalind swallowed, suddenly afraid; all the stories she'd ever been told about her father charging into dangerous situations with his wand blazing began to fill her mind.

`I know you know, Rosalind, you may as well tell me.'

`She's the minister of magic, she was elected a week after Mum was killed... I still get the Wizarding Wireless.'

Harry's face split into a devilish grin, `so all we need to do is break into the Ministry of Magic, get into the Ministers office, ambush the Minister of Magic, and get her to answer a few questions, without anyone finding out about it. Nothing could be easier.'

Rosalind didn't like the sound of this, and her scepticism must have shown on her face.

`Come on Rosie, have a little faith in your old man, you do realise that in your possession lies a potion that allows us to get through any ward, or protection charm ever created, don't you?'

`No, I didn't know that.'

Harry laughed, `Why do you think I had this library so heavily protected? It was certainly not because I ever anticipated it being used as some kind of safe house during the third rise of Voldemort.'

Rosalind shrugged, `Mum said it was to protect the potion recipe, but I thought that was just because you didn't want people messing about with time.'

`It was that,' Harry agreed, `partly, but it was also because I know that there are no wards that can keep you out if you're travelling through time as well as space.'

`Ok,' Rosalind nodded, `so what is the plan then?'

Harry grinned, it was actually kind of fun to be planning a mission with his daughter, `OK, the first thing we'll need is a hip flask.'

A/N -I don't normally do this but, please leave a review on your way out... I realised the other day that this story has been favourited more times than it has been reviewed and I'd really like the number of reviews to be a bit more representative of how many people have enjoyed the story so far.

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A/N - That thing you thought would never happen ... it's happening, I am updating this long dormant story. Again (I cannot stress this enough) please don't think about the time travel aspect of things too much… It took me ages to get everything I wanted to happen to happen in the plot line of this story while still getting it to make sense and without creating a paradox (in my own slightly insane version of what does and does not create a paradox). The outline is now finally complete so hopefully updates will occur regularly from now on. Also, don't be too sure about anything happening until it actually happens… there will be some near misses and a few (hopefully unexpected) nods to the first Balm of Time story for you to enjoy.

“People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint - it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly... time-y wimey... stuff.” The Doctor

Chapter 3 - A Question of Priorities

Harry paced the length of the library his thoughts whirling at a million miles an hour, trying desperately to come up with a plan that didn't involve endangering his daughter. His daughter that was not even born yet but somehow was only a few years younger than he was himself. He was also trying not to stare at her.

She was such a perfect combination of himself and Hermione, she had Hermione's eyes and cute little nose but she had his jet black hair and (he thought) his smile.

She was a beautiful girl and had obviously inherited her mother's brains along with a good dose of his own recklessness. Bringing a person into the future in order to save their life was the sort of thing he would do himself, Hermione would have thought of a better plan.

She'd been watching him pace the library for the last few minutes, her lovely cinnamon eyes following him as he went. Hermione would be disappointed to learn that their daughter didn't inherit her father's eyes (she often said they were his best feature) but Harry was glad. He'd only seen his wife that morning and already he missed her painfully.

Harry started talking abruptly to try to stave off thoughts of how he would have coped in her place had their situations been reversed.

`We'll be able to get through the wards to get her without any trouble, but we're going to need to interrogate her. She won't tell us anything without a fight.'

`How do we do that?' Rosalind asked from her place on the camp bed, her head swivelling as she watched Harry (her dad, she reminded herself) pace the length of the room.

Harry didn't respond right away, he could only think of two methods and neither of them was going to be easy.

`Well,' he began slowly, his pacing stopped and he stared off into space thinking, `You don't happen to have any dragon blood and spine of lionfish around here, do you?'

Rosalind just looked at him in confusion, `Um, no… which potion is that for?'

`Veritaserum, it's super tricky to brew but I still prefer it to the alternative.'

Rosalind just looked at him for a moment and Harry could see Hermione staring out at him with that gaze.

`Well?' she asked somewhat snappishly (reminding Harry still more of his darling wife), `what's the alternative?'

`The alternative is to use the Imperius curse on her… but I've never cast it before and could just turn her brain into soup.'

Rosalind snorted, `yes, we want to avoid turning her brain into soup until after we've interrogated her.'

`Right, so we're going to need potion ingredients. I assume you have Belladonna and Puffer-fish eyes?'

Rosalind nodded, `but how are we going to get dragon blood and spine of lionfish? It's not like we can just walk into an apothecary store and buy them.'

`Why not?'

Rosalind glared at him, `because we'd be captured by Death Eaters within seconds if we tried that.'

Harry frowned, `would they recognise you? I got the impression you'd pretty much never left this library.'

Rosalind blushed and looked down at her feet and Harry felt like smacking himself in the head. She was his daughter, of course she'd left the library. Probably she was running armed assaults on Diagon Alley on a regular basis while wearing a t-shirt that proclaimed “I am Harry Potter's daughter!!”

`Sorry, of course you've left the library… I hope Her- your mum wasn't too hard on you?'

A small grin lifted one corner of Rosalind's mouth, `What makes you think she knew?'

Now it was Harry's turn to grin, `she knew alright! So she never said anything to you about it then? I suppose she figured it was par for the course, being my daughter and all.'

`We never spoke about it, I always figured she didn't realise. Anyway I didn't do anything that bad, I wasn't firing spells from the top of the tallest tower while screaming out “I am Rosalind Potter, I will have vengeance” I just picked off a few death eaters when they were alone and vulnerable, sometimes it was just to steal groceries from the local Muggle supermarket and save mum the trouble… I mostly stayed under your invisibility cloak, but I was seen a few times. Besides, Sabine Lupine knows exactly what I look like and I daresay she hasn't kept it to herself.'

`I guess your mum figured you were smart enough to not act quite as stupidly as your dad would.'

Neither of them knew what to say to this, Harry looked about trying not to let a wave of grief overpower him, the life they both must have led shut up here in this library. It was a nice room but not the best place to raise a child. After everything they'd done, he still hadn't lived to raise his first child and she'd grown up here, in one room without Hogwarts or house quidditch or anything. As tears threatened Harry turned away from his daughter to face the fireplace. There were no photos in frames on the mantle as there should have been, he supposed that there hadn't been many happy memories to commemorate or that with so much going on taking photos and putting them in frames was a luxury they simply didn't have.

Only one moving image sat on the mantle over the fire place, it was the photo of Hermione on her clock hand.

It should be on that clock still, Harry thought fiercely, blinking back tears. He sucked in a deep breath, there was no time to get sentimental he had a war to wage.

`You mentioned that your mum (he was still having trouble referring to Hermione that way) wasn't sure if the spy was Ron or Sabine, does that mean Ron is still alive?'

Rosalind frowned, `I doubt it, everyone knew he was on our side, I think Sabine probably only kept him alive as long as she did so that there was someone else to suspect. Now that Mum is gone he wouldn't be needed any more.'

`Right, so even if he is alive he can't move about any more freely than we can.' Harry groaned, `What about Polyjuice potion, do you have the ingredients for that?'

`Nope, I've really only got the basics. I had more before but they were ingredients for the balm of time… I think it was Mum's plan all along, to go back in time, once she found out who was responsible.'

Harry started pacing again, `So, we need potion ingredients but we can't be seen while getting them and we can't disguise ourselves, or send someone else to buy them, so we'll just have to go in invisible and steal them.'

Rosalind let out a startled laugh, `Mum was right, you are a bit crazy.'

Harry wasn't sure he liked that Hermione had apparently called him crazy but he let it slide, `can you think of a better solution?' he asked instead.

`No, but how are we going to get through Diagon Alley? There will be dark wizards everywhere.'

`On a broomstick of course, it'll be easy, I've done something like this before.' Harry stated confidently remembering his break in to Gringotts when he'd travelled back in time and his numerous stints at surveillance since he'd become an Auror, `you do have a broom, don't you?'

Rosalind snorted, `Yeah, your old firebolt is still in the cupboard, Mum used to use it to sweep the floors.'

`Very funny, she would never do that to my firebolt, is that the only broom you've got?'

Rosalind nodded and Harry was unable to hide his disappointment, `I guess I'll be doing this on my own then.'

`You would have been anyway, I never learnt how to fly so I wouldn't be much good to you.'

Harry sputtered and coughed incoherently for a second before being able to form an intelligible sentence, `You never learned to fly?' he asked, outraged.

`No, there isn't really the room in here and I only went out for important missions, not for frivolous pursuits.'

Harry spluttered again, `frivolous pursuits? Frivolous pursuits! That's your mum talking I bet… what did Ron have to say about that, surely he wanted to teach you to fly?'

Rosalind shrugged, `He mentioned it a few times but he was always so busy and Mum always said it was a waste of time so I never pushed it.'

`Well, we'll have to do something about that!' was Harrys indignant response, `While I'm out I'll steal the ingrediants for polyjuice potion as well then we can disguise ourselves and go out for a bit and I'll teach you to fly! No daughter of mine won't know how to fly.'

Rosalind didn't say anything, she just smiled a little wistfully. This wasn't really the response Harry had expected (though truthfully he couldn't say what his expectations had been).

`What's the matter?' Harry asked, his tone more gentle than it had been a moment ago, `Don't you want to learn? I won't make you if that's the case.'

`It's not that, it's just that… it's not like it'll make that much difference either way. Even if we do destroy Voldemort and get revenge on Sabine and all the other death eaters, what sort of world are we going to be left with? What sort of life could I possibly have? I'll probably just re-locate to Australia and live out the rest of my life as a muggle anyway.'

Harry's eyes softened as he regarded his daughter, `If that's what you thought then why did you even try to save me, to save this world?'

Tears started to well up in Rosalind's eyes, `I don't know really, I guess it was grief and shock… it was what Mum wanted me to do, so I did it… like I pretty much always did, but now I just don't see the point. Everything worth saving has already been destroyed.'

Harry thought about that for a moment before responding, `How much did your Mum tell you about that potion?'

Rosalind shrugged, `she told me it was there, and that we had the ingredients… I suppose she thought I'd figure out the rest on my own.'

`The thing is, I've used that potion before and I know a bit about how it works. You're right, if I destroy Voldemort now then the world will still be a pretty shitty, er, I mean awful place to live. But I don't have to destroy Voldemort now. What I need to do is find out how he was brought back so I can prevent it from happening in the first place.'

`Ok…' Rosalind sounded uncertain, so Harry elaborated.

`I don't know if Hermione told you, but I grew up with my Aunt and Uncle because my parents died when I was only a year old.'

`What! Grandma Lily and Grandpa James died at your 21^st birthday party, everyone knows that.'

`Only because I went back in time and prevented their deaths.'

`But I tried that already, I couldn't stop you from dying.'

`Yes you did, I'm alive now,' Harry rushed to continue, `this world needs more than that though, I need to go back in time and prevent Voldemort from being resurrected to prevent any of this nightmare from ever happening. The thing is, if I take you with me when you come back to this time you'll still have all your memories of a life that no longer happened. It'll be like your living someone else's life.'

Rosalind shook her head, `That doesn't make any sense.'

`I know,' Harry admitted, `but that's how it works, I guess the balm of time can take you back and forth in time but it can't implant memories in your head. I grew up with my Aunt and Uncle, but after your mum and I travelled to the past and saved my parent's lives when I returned to the time I'd left my parents were still alive and had raised me and there was a pensive full of memories in my room of a life I hadn't lived. We both remembered the world we came from but the world we returned too was very different.'

Rosalind opened her mouth, possibly to ask a question, but Harry hurried on eager to get to the point he was trying to make, `But when we left, we left Ron behind to guard the potion and when we returned he had no idea that my parents had ever died… as far as he was concerned the new reality we returned to was the only one he'd ever known… because he'd lived it, not apparated into it, as your mother and I did.'

`So you're saying that if I stay here, and let you go off on your own, it'll be like none of this ever happened.'

`That's it exactly.'

`So it'll be like I never existed.'

`NO, you'll still be you… no-one ever really saw any particularly striking difference between me and the person who'd grown up with two loving parents. I was still me, and you will still be you… you'll just have a better life, you'll go to Hogwarts and get sorted into a house, and cause trouble and play pranks and maybe even end up on your house quidditch team.'

Rosalind seemed lost in thought, so Harry pushed his point as gently as he could, `How old are you now, Rosalind?'

`I'm eighteen,' she replied.

`So if I don't do it this way, you'll never get to attend a class in Hogwarts…. I could always give you a penseive, like my parents did for me, but seeing the memories isn't the same as living them.'

`I don't want to let you go on your own though,' she replied, her voice trembling.

`I know, and believe me, I don't want to leave you. Anything worth having is worth fighting for though, don't you think?'

She nodded.

`We'll have some time together though, before I go, the Veritaserum takes a full lunar cycle to brew, so we'll make the most of that time.' The words “just in case” were left unsaid.

Rosalind nodded, `and you'll teach me to fly?' she asked.

`I would be honoured to.' Harry replied.

`Ok then,' she straightened up and Harry could almost see her spine stiffening, `Should I go get your broom, do you want to get those ingredients now and get started?'

At that moment Harry's stomach let out a loud rumble, and he grinned sheepishly `Actually, I don't suppose there is anything to eat, is there?'

Rosalind laughed, `there is actually… I made dinner while you were recovering, sausages and mash followed by treacle tart. Mum said those were your favourites.'

Harry groaned, `that sounds fantastic, thank you Rosalind.'

She blushed prettily, `it was no trouble.'

`I'm not just talking about the dinner, you've saved my life… hopefully, you're actions have saved hundreds of lives.'

She looked even more abashed at those words but managed to meet his eyes, `Well, I am my father's daughter.'

Harry smiled, `You certainly are.'

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A/N - Yep, I'm still going… Please leave a review. The Harry Potter characters and world are owned by JK Rowling, I make no money for this. Pay me in reviews xx

“How did it get so late so soon? It's night before it's afternoon. December is here before it's June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?” ― Dr. Seuss

Chapter 4 - The Worst of all Worlds

Harry lay on his side and watched his daughter sleep. Considering all that she'd been through, she slept remarkably well. She didn't seem to suffer from nightmares like the ones that had plagued his teen years. She was a remarkable young woman and his heart burst with pride even as it broke with the knowledge that he had very little to do with how she'd turned out.

She'd never been to Hogwarts, or played a quidditch game. She'd never even learnt how to fly.

He'd been blasé about his job, his lack of vigilance had cost him his life and his friends and family had all suffered for it.

His wife and his daughter, the two people he loved most, had suffered most of all.

At least for his parents, Remus, and most of the others it had been over quickly. One moment they'd all been celebrating happily and the next they'd been dead. It was horrific, but at least it had been quick. For Rosalind and Hermione it had been nearly nineteen years of suffering, uncertainty, and deprivation. Yet through it all Hermione had raised a daughter that anyone would be proud of and Rosalind was a testimony to the intelligence, courage and grace of her mother.

Harry rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Since Rosalind had fallen asleep he kept going back over in his mind the time leading up to his death, or near death. He kept looking for the clue he should have seen that would have warned him of the danger brewing, but he still couldn't see it.

He remembered the very last time he'd seen Sabine Lupin so clearly.

It was about three o'clock in the afternoon on the 27^th of July, he'd been hoping to leave early because his parents were hosting a birthday celebration for him that night. He wanted to have time to sooth any fears of looking awful that Hermione had (she had been very sensitive about her appearance in recent weeks) and get over to his parents place in time for a quick game of quidditch with his Dad, Ron, Sirius and whoever else happened to be around.

The afternoon sun was streaming through the windows in the Auror department of the ministry and Harry was antsy to be gone. So when Sabine Lupin called him over to her desk he'd really hoped it had been in order to give him a fabricated excuse to go home. On the surface that's exactly what it had appeared to be.

He remembered her calm smile so clearly, as she handed him a document, `I've got a lead on those muggle baiters we've been getting reports on.' She told him.

Harry took the document from her, it was blank, but she winked at him so he played along. He'd thought she was giving him an excuse.

`The one's with the biting teacups?' He asked, vaguely remembering something about biting teacups from a few weeks earlier.

She smiled, `that's the one, according to our information the magical signature on them has also been found on some goods waiting to be shipped to France, they're in a muggle dock yard right now. It'll probably take you the rest of the afternoon to investigate it thoroughly.'

Harry almost laughed, it would probably take him all of two seconds. But he nodded seriously, `I'll get right on it then, you'll let anyone who asks know where I am.'

She smiled, a big genuine smile, `Of course I will.'

She was probably thinking that she'd be sure to tell her boss Voldemort all about it. Harry thought bitterly. How could he have guessed though that she was anything other than genuine? Moony was married to her for Merlins sake… was he supposed to never trust anyone new at all?

Harry flopped on to his other side, now facing away from his daughter, and let out a big sigh. How was he supposed to sleep when Voldemort was out there right now doing Merlin knows what, killing and torturing people probably, and he was stuck in a library with only one ally, no resources, and no plan for fixing this problem.

It was pretty clear to him that the solution to all of this mess lay in the past. He and Hermione had missed one of the Horcruxes, either the ring or the locket might not have been a Horcrux (they were they only ones that Harry hadn't been able to examine prior to their destruction). Unless Dumbledore had been wrong and there was another Horcrux that they didn't know about, it could even be both of those things. Maybe the locket (or ring) wasn't a Horcrux at all, something else was, and there were others they had no idea of.

It was enough to make Harry's head spin and he yearned for Hermione.

To be able to talk all of this over with her, the way he always had with all of his problems, seemed an unimaginable luxury right now. Even just to be able to hold her in his arms while he fell asleep, as he had every night for the past seven years, would be heaven. He missed her soft warmth snuggled up close to him. After a few minutes his thoughts of Hermione, sleeping next to him, were enough to relax him until, at last, he was able to drift off to sleep.

***

The next morning dawned bright and clear and Harry jumped out of bed feeling refreshed and keen for an early start. His depression from the night before had lifted and he just felt eager to get on with things so he could get rid of Voldemort (again) and get on with his life.

Feeling better than he had since arriving in this nightmarish vision of the future Harry went to the broom cupboard that Rosalind had indicated the night before to retrieve his beloved Firebolt. It was about time they got started and the first thing they needed was potion supplies.

His old broom looked just as good as he remembered it, Hermione had obviously placed a charm on it to keep it dust-free and ready to fly. As his hand closed around the handle Harry became aware that a dust free charm wasn't all she'd done. As soon as his skin touched the wooden handle of his broom an envelope appeared, stuck to the back of the handle. His name clearly written on it in green ink. It was Hermione's handwriting.

He didn't hesitate, he pulled the envelope off the broom and tore it open.

Dear Harry,

I've waited as long as I can for you but have now come to realise that however it is you survived, you didn't do it on your own. Someone from the future must have gone back to the past and saved you.

You might be wondering how I know that you're alive and it really is very simple. Your invisibility cloak is still here. I still remember everything you told me about the last time you died, when we'd gone back to the past to save your parent's lives, and I remember the deal you struck with death.

Our clock may not be able to find you, and I can't either, but I'm sure it's because you're time-travelling.

By the time I realised what had really happened to you it was few years after your `death'. It was such a horrible shock, your death, and the massacre at your party, and having a baby without you and while in hiding…

The point is, by the time I realised that you must still be alive your death was a long established fact. Most of our friends were dead and those that weren't were in hiding or potentially a traitor. I had no idea what to do. Surviving was as much as I could manage.

When Rosalind started to get a bit older she started to resemble you so much, I started to suspect that eventually it would be she who went back to get you. I didn't know who the traitor was still, but it was more than likely someone who knew of our secret potion. How much they knew was a mystery.

I was never so glad that Snape had never told anyone about it and that we had never revealed the location of the recipe to anyone at all.

I had to be so careful in collecting all the ingredients, these things are monitored very closely these days. I believe that Spain is still an independent state, though I can't be sure how long that will last. It's beyond my apparating distance, but for you it might be possible (you always had more raw power than I do and if I'm correct you'll still have the Death Stick).

I would apparate there to get whatever you need.

I can only hope that it is you who saves us all again, and not Rosalind. I want so much for this life to be one she has no memory of. I know how much it hurts you that you didn't get to experience the childhood you had with your parents and I dread Rosalind having to live with that same pain.

She is an amazing girl, so strong and brave. She was such a happy baby Harry, I missed you so much during that time, I know how much you were looking forward to meeting her and being part of her childhood. The pain of losing you has never grown less, even after I realised that you weren't really dead. That knowledge made it a little easier to sleep at night but it didn't reduce how much I missed you. Not even a little.

I'm getting ready to leave our little girl now, Harry, I only pray that I'm right. We need to know who the traitor is and there is only one way to find out. A sacrifice needs to be made and I'm the only one who can make it.

Hopefully, once we know for sure who is betraying us you will be brought back and you will find a way to fix this. If I'm wrong and our little girl is left all alone… perhaps she'll be able to start a new life somewhere far far away.

I don't even know if you'll ever read this but I figured that if you did get brought into the future your broom would be one of the first things you would go to.

If I'm wrong and this winds up in Rosalind's hands then I can only hope that it spurs her into action. To try to somehow build a life for herself rather than spend it holed up in a dust library.

I know this letter has been horribly disjointed but it's the most difficult thing I've ever had to write. How do you say I love you, I'm sorry, please take care of our baby girl, and all the other things that need to be said to someone who may not even be alive?

Whoever it is that reads this letter, know that I love you and I only wanted what was best for you. I tried to do the right thing.

All my Love

Hermione.

Harry wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and put the letter into his back pocket. Even though reading Hermione's letter had all but ripped his heart from his chest and torn it to pieces it had also strengthened his resolve. He needed to fix it so that his daughter would never remember any of this and could have the childhood she deserved.

He wrote a quick note for Rosalind to explain where he'd gone (to Spain) and why (for potion supplies) and he mounted his broom.

While he was being tortured by Voldemort's little pets he'd been so annoyed that the Death Stick had still been in his boot holster and his invisibility cloak had been with Hermione, just in case. The first thing Voldemort's goons had done, when they'd attacked him from behind, was to bind him so tightly that he couldn't move his arms even a millimetre. Now couldn't help but be glad.

Hermione was probably only able to survive as long as she did because she'd had the cloak.

Also, it meant that now Harry had a completely untraceable and very powerful wand to use. He pulled the Death Stock out of his boot and used it to affix his invisibility Cloak the way he had so many times before, so that he was able to fly while remaining completely invisible and no amount of Accio spells would reveal him.

With all that done, Harry took to the air (or as close as he could get to it while still indoors), and apparated to Spain. Hermione had been corrected on many counts. Firstly, Spain did still seem to be free and it was ridiculously easy to get all the supplies he needed while there. Secondly, he was able to apparate there and back without any trouble at all. His mission, if it could really be called that, was over and done with in about an hour.

However, what he didn't anticipate was how his daughter would react to this.

The noise of Harry apparating was almost silent but it was still enough to wake Rosalind from a relatively light sleep. Waking to find her father missing, a father who'd died 19 years ago from basically being careless (at his own admission) and who'd only just been returned to life a few short days ago, was nothing short of terrifying for her.

Reading the note he'd left for her had done nothing to change that.

Dear Rosalind,

Just going to Spain to get potion ingredients, will be as quick as I can.

Love Dad xx

The note was still crumpled in her fist, while she angrily paced the library, when he returned. He was lucky really, if he'd not taken the cloak with him (or if he'd been gone any longer) she'd have set out immediately for Spain herself to try and find him.

As it was she was furious. The noise of his appartion back into the room startled her as she paced, but Harry casually jumping from his broom as he pulled off his cloak startled her even more. However, she was not so startled that she did not immediately light into him.

`Where the Hell have you been?' she demanded angrily

`What are you talking about?' Harry was confused and somewhat taken aback by the level of anger she displayed, she was practically throwing spells at him with her eyes.

`Where. The. Hell. Have. You. Been?' she demanded again, her voice raising even higher.

`I left you a note, didn't you get it?'

`I got your bloody note “Gone to Spain, back soon”, you couldn't have been a little more vague? How the hell are you planning on getting to bloody Spain anyway, why aren't you going to take me with you? How can you be so reckless?? You almost died a few days ago! You would have if it weren't for me!'

`Um,' Harry didn't know quite where to start with all that but Rosalind didn't give him a chance. She was on a roll now and all the anger and frustration she'd harboured towards her father over the years came pouring out.

`Everyone talks about how bloody brave and noble you were, but it's just bloody reckless and thoughtless, isn't it? You don't care about anyone, how worried they might be, or what might happen to them if you died. Did you ever think that perhaps you should have stopped taking dangerous assignments while your wife was heavily pregnant? Did you even care about me at all?'

She paused then to take a breath and probably would have started yelling again but Harry didn't give her a chance.

`That's enough.' His voice was strangely calm, belying his inner turmoil, `I might have been a bit reckless when I was younger but I loved your mother very much and I loved you too. Even though you weren't born yet. I want, wanted, nothing more than to be there for every single day of your childhood. I did stop taking dangerous missions, from the moment Hermione told me she was pregnant that was the only thing that mattered to me at all. Sabine Lupin was a trusted friend, and I thought she was sending me on an easy job to get me home early. If I had suspected it was anything other than that I would have been fully prepared and they would never have been able to get the drop on me so easily. I have only ever wanted what is best for you.'

He took a deep steadying breath.

`As for how I expect to get to Spain, I apparated, while invisible, and while mid-air on my broom. It's the safest way to travel. I've already been there and am back. I got everything we needed and I didn't get into any trouble at all.'

Rosalind looked shocked, `You've already been?'

`Yes, as for why I didn't take you… two of us going would have only made it more difficult to hide. I am not doing anything reckless, especially not with your safety.'

Rosalind sat down heavily in one the libraries chairs and they were both silent for a moment.

`I'm sorry' Rosalind said at last, her eyes downcast, `I shouldn't have said all those things.'

`it's okay, I understand,' Harry went over and crouched in front of her, `You feel like I abandoned you, you're angry, I get it. Don't forget, I probably understand how you feel right now better than anyone. I went through almost exactly the same thing with my parents. At least they died saving my life, you didn't have that consolation.'

`You died trying to though, that meant a lot,' she looked up at him and their eyes met, `Mum and Uncle Ron always said that.'

`I'll keep trying too, I want you to have the life you deserve and you deserve a hell of a lot better than this.'

Rosalind didn't respond, just bit her lip and stared at her hands again.

Harry put his arms around her and gave her a squeeze, `I love you, you know.'

Rosalind nodded against his shoulder and whispered back, `I love you too, Dad'

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