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Assistant: Title: The Darkening of Your Soul
        Author: Maeglin_Yedi undefined 
        Chapter: 1/56 
        Summary: Harry is betrayed. Harry gets a second chance to do it all over again.There is just one catch. If Harry gets to keep his memories from his previous life, so does Voldemort.
        Contents: Chapter 1: Chapter 1
    

    


      
        
          The time-travel fix-it do-over is one of my favourite tropes and I’ve long wanted to write one for myself. I got this idea and decided to give it a go. I promise nothing in terms of updates. Read at your own risk.This will be a Harry as close to canon as I can write him. No fifteen Gringott’s vaults, with thirty lordships and a harem of lovers. No super powers with eight animagus forms. No five magical pets. No character bashing. Okay, maybe a little Dumbledore bashing but that’s it, I swear.Just a good but flawed young wizard trying to live his best life while trying not to p@ss off the Dark Lord too much. How successful he is at any of this remains to be seen.
      
  

  
  
    
    “Betrayal doesn’t only break your heart but also darkens your soul. You’ll never forget the pain like a fog that forever lingers in the depths of your mind.”
UnknownChapter 1The betrayal, when it happened, blindsided Harry worse than any bludger on the Quidditch pitch had ever done. He wasn’t expecting it, wasn’t prepared for it, could barely even believe it. The war was over. The enemy was defeated. Harry had fulfilled the prophecy and was finally able to live the life he wanted to live, away from fame and from unreasonable expectations from a terrified public looking to a mere teenager for salvation. At least, in theory, Harry was free to do what he wanted. The press still hounded him and wrote ridiculous articles about him, everything from questioning his decision to spend his summer at Hogwarts helping to rebuild to making up illicit affairs between Harry and just about every witch and wizard that Harry was even remotely in contact with and some he’d never even met before. But Harry didn’t let that bother him, used to all that kind of unwanted attention by now. He spent his days working with Hermione and Professor Flitwick and many others to repair the damage to their beloved school. And at night he slept in the comfort and safety of Gryffindor Tower.Ron had opted to join the Auror force a week after the final battle, when Kingsley as the brand new Minister for Magic had offered the positions to Ron and Harry both. Harry had declined, though. Yes, he still believed he might want to be an Auror, but first he needed a break after the year they’d had. So Harry decided to do as Hermione was planning to do and return to Hogwarts for another year to sit his NEWTs. After that he could always join the Auror department. Harry was pretty sure they wouldn’t refuse him, no matter his NEWT scores.A week before his birthday Harry received an owl from Kingsley asking him to come to the Ministry. There were a few things that needed clearing up and since Harry had not yet given any official statements to anyone, Kingsley suggested they take care of that at the same time. Like a fool, Harry didn’t question any of this, especially after he showed the letter to Hermione and she assured him it was probably just a routine interview for their records.And like an even bigger fool, Harry went to the Ministry the next day at the appointed time and walked right into a wall of Aurors. He was hit point blank by at least five stunners before he could even get his wand out of his pocket.Harry woke up in a cell, white walls all around him with a solid white door without a knob. No windows of any kind, just basic metal furniture. A bed with a thin mattress and a threadbare blanket, a table and single chair and in the corner a toilet with a small sink above it without a mirror.Gaping at his surroundings, Harry slowly sat up. “Hello?”No reply.Harry swallowed, cold sweat breaking out over his entire body. He was in a Ministry holding cell and he had no idea why. “What’s going on? Kingsley? Anyone?” Harry walked up and down the cell, banged on the door a few times, but no reply followed and no one came to explain anything to him. Harry patted himself down thoroughly but anything useful he’d had on his person was missing. His wand, his mokeskin pouch he still kept around his neck, a handful of Galleons he kept in the pocket of his jeans in case he wanted to walk to Hogsmeade for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron or a bar of chocolate from Honeydukes.After pacing for what felt like hours, Harry sat down on the bed with a weary sigh. Were the Death Eaters back in charge at the Ministry? Lucius Malfoy was back in Azkaban after a short trial, and many others like Yaxley, the Carrows and the Lestranges had died during the final battle. But Draco and Narcissa Malfoy were free to do what they wanted after Harry had spoken on their behalf during their trial. He owed Narcissa a life-debt. It seemed like the decent thing to do, but now Harry wondered if it had been the naive thing to do and he’d given them an opening to get their revenge on him somehow. Simple toiletries and meals appeared at set times. Porridge for breakfast, a ham or cheese sandwich for lunch, and a plate of potatoes, carrots and a piece of dry chicken for dinner. Even though he was suspicious at first, Harry did eat the food provided. He knew all too well from his time at the Dursleys and from living in a tent for almost a year with minimum preparation that not eating when food was provided was a very silly thing to do. He didn’t know what was coming. He needed his strength. He spent the days pacing and the nights sleeping as best he could, calling out every so often but no one ever answered and no one ever came.After what Harry guessed from the amount of meals he’d had was about a week, the door finally opened. Harry sprang up from the bed as he’d only just woken up. But before he could utter a word a tall Auror hit him with a silencing spell. Moments later heavy metal manacles closed around his wrists and ankles, thick chains binding them together. Harry was yanked unceremoniously out of the cell, through a short corridor and into a large, familiar chamber filled to the brink with wizards and witches. This was the courtroom where Harry had his hearing for underage magic right before his fifth year. The Auror all but dragged him to the big, wooden chair in the middle of the floor, pushed him into it and attached the chains to it with a flick of his wand.Harry looked around desperately, trying to call out but his voice was gone. He was on trial? Why? What the f@ck was going on?The noise around him was deafening. People all around the room, both the visitors in the viewing seats as well as the members of the Wizengamot were letting their confusion and displeasure known vocally and loudly. Most seemed to be outraged to see their hero in chains and demanded to know what was going on, Harry was relieved to note. Maybe, whatever was happening, was just a misunderstanding and he’d be freed soon. Then he remembered Sirius and all the miscarriages of justice that man had faced and suddenly Harry wasn’t too sure if he’d ever see daylight again. Sirius had been completely innocent and had rotted in Azkaban for thirteen years before managing to escape, only to die a few years later, still a wanted man. Harry was innocent as well, as far as he knew, but that knowledge did little to calm his racing heart. He looked around again and saw Augusta Longbottom and Narcissa Malfoy sitting amongst the members. Draco Malfoy sat pale-faced among the viewing public, while a few rows above him Harry spotted Neville, Luna, Seamus and Dean. All were looking shell-shocked at seeing Harry in chains. But they were not who Harry wanted, needed to see. No matter how hard he looked, though, he couldn’t find Ron and Hermione anywhere in the crowd. A horrible thought occurred to Harry. Were Ron and Hermione arrested as well? Was that why they weren’t there? He couldn’t imagine someone like Hermione doing nothing while her best friend was wrongfully arrested. Look at how far she’d gone to help Hagrid with Buckbeak’s defence back in third year. No, the Hermione he knew would do anything to prevent her friend from becoming a victim of the ministry’s incompetence. “Quiet down,” a voice called around the room. Percy Weasley appeared, holding several scrolls and quills. “All rise for the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.”Kingsley appeared in purple ceremonial robes while around them everyone got to their feet. Kingsley quickly waved them down again. “My fellow witches and wizards. I have called you here for the trial of Harry James Potter for treason against the Wizarding World.”The noise, which had quieted for a moment, returned tenfold as people called out demanding an explanation. Harry’s jaw dropped as he stared at Kingsley in disbelief. Raising both hands, Kingsley managed to quiet the room somewhat. “The ministry received a time-delayed letter from Albus Dumbledore, charmed to be delivered one month after the defeat of Lord Voldemort to whomever was in function as the Minister for Magic. I will read this letter out loud now.”As Percy handed a piece of parchment to Kingsley, the people had gone so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Kingsley unrolled the parchment and cleared his throat. “To whom it may concern. I write to you to ensure that Lord Voldemort will never return again. In order to accomplish this, Harry Potter must die.”Harry screamed in protest, but no sound escaped him. He had died! He had walked to his f@ck@ng death!“Lord Voldemort achieved immortality by using extremely dark magic to split his soul. On the tragic night of the Potters’ murders, Lord Voldemort hit young Harry Potter with a killing curse. But because of sacrificial magic made possible by Lily Potter’s death, the killing curse backfired on Lord Voldemort, destroying his body and tearing his already damaged soul until a sliver broke off and attached itself to young Harry. Because Harry was still an infant, with an underdeveloped soul of his own, Voldemort’s soul sliver merged with his, becoming one new soul.”Kingsley had to stop reading for a moment as the shouting became overwhelming again. Harry noticed that the tone was shifting. No longer were most voices calling out in his support. “I instructed Harry to sacrifice himself and I am sure I guided him enough in his lifetime that he willingly did so. But Harry has an uncanny ability to survive the most remarkable situations, so I am writing this letter to you to ensure Harry remains dead. For their merged souls to die, Harry’s body must be destroyed. If Harry is allowed to live, he can be used to bring back Lord Voldemort. I deeply regret it has to come to this, and I urge you to examine Harry yourself as I have examined him myself many times. I told Harry that the soul sliver could be removed by Voldemort’s killing curse, but I only did so to ensure Harry would sacrifice himself while having hope of surviving against all odds. In truth, survival for Harry Potter isn’t possible if we are to ensure Lord Voldemort never rises again.”Kingsley folded the parchment and placed it on the bench in front of him. “The Department of Mysteries has examined Mr Potter when we first apprehended him and they have confirmed everything Dumbledore wrote. I have also personally spoken to Dumbledore’s portrait at Hogwarts and it, too confirmed the truth of these words. We have a few witnesses to add to this case. I call Hermione Granger to the stand to testify.”Hermione wouldn’t look at him as she sat down in the allocated witness seat. Harry stared at her desperately, his cheeks wet as he willed Hermione to come up with a solution, to save the day, but Hermione wouldn’t look at him. “Ms Granger, has Mr Potter told you at any time that he housed a piece of Voldemort’s soul in his body?” Kingsley asked, his deep voice not calming as usual but hard and demanding. Hermione gave a tiny nod. “Yes. But he sacrificed himself –“Irrelevant, as per the Department of Mysteries’ conclusions. Thank you, Ms Granger. We call Ronald Weasley to testify.” Ron looked starkly pale under his freckles and gulped visibly as he took Hermione’s seat. Contrary to Hermione, Ron wouldn’t stop staring at Harry, eyes wide and disbelieving.“Mr Weasley, has Mr Potter told you at any time that he housed a piece of Voldemort’s soul in his body?”Ron opened his mouth but no sound came out so he cleared his throat. “Yeah, he did a few times.”“This is bollocks,” Neville shouted from the stands as he stood waving his fist at Ron. “You traitor, is that how you repay your friend? Harry is a good guy, the best, and you all –“ The world would never know what Neville wanted to say because a nearby Auror stunned him and levitated him out of the room. Luna was looking between Harry and Neville with both hands clapped over her mouth in shock.When Harry looked back to the stand beside the Minister, Ron was gone and Ginny sat in his place.“Miss Weasley,” Kingsley said, having ignored all the commotion to continue the trial. “Have you and Mr Potter ever discussed his feelings towards Lord Voldemort and has Mr Potter ever expressed any positive ideas or feelings towards the Dark Lord?”Ginny nodded with a little sigh. She looked far less shocked than both Ron and Hermione had done. “Yes, in his sixth year. Harry told me several times he found Tom Riddle, that was who Voldemort was before he mutilated himself, very handsome. He also told me he thought Tom Riddle deserved a second chance.”The room erupted in a cacophony of voices, most calling for Harry’s immediate death. Harry tried to jump up as well but the chains kept him in place. He had not said those things, not like that. Yes, he thought Tom Riddle was handsome, because he had eyes. Most people who saw Tom Riddle would call him handsome. As for giving Tom Riddle a second chance, Harry had sympathized with an eleven-year-old Riddle he’d seen in Dumbledore’s memories. Harry knew what growing up unwanted and unloved felt like, and he was p@ss@d at Dumbledore for how he’d written off a child for trying to stay alive in a hateful environment. That didn’t mean he wanted Lord f@ck@ng Voldemort to come back, and Ginny knew this. She’d even agreed with him.But Harry could not defend himself, could not explain, and the damage was done. Ginny left the stand without a backwards glance and Kingsley called the room to order. “We will now vote to put the wizard known as Harry James Potter to death by pushing him through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries immediately following this trial. All in favour, raise your wands.”All around them, wands were held up and Harry could see at once that the vast majority voted for his immediate death. Augusta Longbottom kept her wand down, and surprisingly, so did Narcissa Malfoy.Kingsley did a quick count and called out, “And so it has been decided that Harry James Potter will be put to death at once. Aurors, escort him to the Veil.”Harry looked towards the stands. Draco Malfoy looked green and ready to pass out. Luna had tears streaming down her face as she shook her head in denial over and over again. Seamus was staring at the floor while Dean had his face buried in his hands. Two Aurors hauled Harry roughly to his feet, but his legs could barely support him. He was numb, inside and out, unable to comprehend what was happening. The Aurors dragged him towards the entrance of the Department of Mysteries where two cloaked and hooded figures escorted them inside and through the labyrinth of doors and hallways. Kingsley and Percy and a few other officials followed them.Harry had no time to be afraid. He barely had time to understand what was going on. The only thing he heard was the clanking of his chains and the heavy, uneven breaths he took, and a little later, the voices whispering at him from behind the veil.“Push him through,” Kingsley said without much emotion, and before Harry could pull away, before he could use his legs to stop them from dragging him towards the veil, the two Aurors holding him up by the arms pushed him forward.Harry stumbled, fell and disappeared through the fabric, which didn’t feel like fabric at all but like an icy gust of wind. Everything was dark, and then everything was light. His arms and legs were free, his body no longer numb, and Harry looked around and instantly recognized the ghostly version of King’s Cross station he’d visited once before. “Hello, young master,” a dark voice said from behind him.Harry whirled around and stared at the tall figure. He, though maybe it was more appropriate, was made up of shadows given life, black and always reaching to envelop more and more light around it, yet never growing any bigger at all. The living shadows took on the shape of a hooded man, towering at least two feet over Harry. Even though no eyes, or any part of a face, was visible, Harry still felt a cold gaze on him.“Death,” Harry said, since that seemed the most logical conclusion. “Hi.”A raspy chuckle came from within the living shadows that formed the hood. “Back so soon?”Harry snorted. “Yeah, apparently Dumbledore wanted me really dead all along.” Rage filled Harry while only moments earlier he hadn’t felt much at all. He glanced around, hoping to find the old man as he had done the last time he was there. “He’s not here? I’d like to strangle him with his own beard.”“No,” Death said, voice at once both deep yet ethereal. “The last time, Fate snuck him in without my knowledge.”“Why did Dumbledore give me this whole speech to go back when he wanted me dead?” Almost before Harry finished asking the question, he knew the answer. “To finish the job, of course. I would make sure Voldemort died and then Dumbledore’s f@ck@ng letter would make sure I was killed a month later.” Harry looked up at Death with pleading eyes. “Is that even true, about Voldemort’s soul merging with my own?”“It is true,” Death said without much concern, as if he hadn’t just pulled the rug out from under Harry’s entire existence.Harry sat down heavily on the white bench behind him. This was just too much to think about. It made Harry’s head spin. “So instead of housing Voldemort’s temporary horcrux, I am his permanent horcrux.”“In essence, yes. All of your soul and a small part of his have grown to become one new soul together.”“Then how did he die if I was keeping him alive? And how did I live when the horcrux inside of me wasn’t destroyed when I came here the first time. And who was that ugly baby thing under the bench?”“The soul fragment you found under the bench belonged to a different horcrux. The cup, I believe, which had only been destroyed a few hours earlier. As for why Voldemort died and you lived, the answer is simple. It happened because you wanted it to.” The look Death gave him, even though Harry couldn’t see it, felt like an amused one. “Huh?” Harry on the other hand felt mostly confused. “You are the Master of Death. You have the power to decide these things. You want Voldemort dead even though your own soul ties him to the world of the living, then it shall be done,” Death explained patiently, but still with an amused air about him. Harry was very glad he was sitting down because this was a lot to take in. “Does any of this even matter anymore?” Harry wondered aloud. “I’m dead. Not much to be done about that.”“Have you not been listening, young master? If you will it, a lot can be done,” Death told him in a firm but not unkind voice.“Like what?” Harry asked, just a little bit hysterically. “Because if I go back and walk out of that veil, people are going to be very upset and throw me right back in it again.” Harry thought for a second and shuddered. “Or feed me to a dementor.”“You can go back earlier,” Death said calmly, as if any of this even made any sense. Harry was half convinced he was having a fever dream or something.“Earlier?” Harry asked, remembering eleven-year-old Tom Riddle. If he could go back to Tom’s childhood... “How much earlier?”“It is unwise to return to before you were born, young master. Reality would stand a real chance of breaking.”“Yeah, all right, that sounds bad,” Harry agreed, though not without some degree of disappointment. He thought for some moments longer. “If I went back to say my first year, would I keep my memories?”“You would,” Death said and then added, “And so would the other part of your soul.”Harry’s eyes widened. “The other part of my soul? You mean Voldemort? He would get his memories back as well?”Death nodded, and Harry was tempted to jump up and loudly refuse to even consider that. Because it seemed like a crazy idea.Unleashing Voldemort, with the memories of his defeat and how to avoid that, back unto the world? Madness. Utter, utter madness.Then again, what had the f@ck@ng world ever done for Harry Potter? Save for the first year of his existence, Harry had been hated and ridiculed and worshipped and discarded and hurt...he’d been hurt over and over again. So maybe the world deserved to get Voldemort back, to be hurt in return. But no. Harry shook his head. He wasn’t that cruel, no matter how much the world had f@ck@d him over all the way to his execution. So Voldemort was out. But Tom Riddle had potential. But what distinguished between Voldemort and Tom Riddle?That was easy enough. A soul. A complete soul.“I have questions,” Harry whispered, his mind reeling under all the plans and plots it was coming up with. Death nodded, so Harry carried on. “You say I can decide if I live or die, right? So I’m essentially immortal, right?”Death gave another nod. “Good. I’m Voldemort’s permanent horcrux, so as long as I live he will live, right?”“As long as you will it, yes,” Death said while inclining his hood. “And can you return Voldemort’s complete soul to him when you give him back his memories?”Death straightened a little. “His soul is still scattered.” Death indicated the vast white station around them with a formless shadowy hand. “If you collect the pieces I can put them back.”“I’ll get right to that.” Harry jumped up and ran down the benches. It didn’t take long until he heard a pathetic whimpering, strangely familiar yet tugging at Harry’s heart. Or should that be his soul? Mutilated baby Tom was lying under a bench and stared at him with weary eyes. “No need to be scared, Tom,” Harry said as he gently picked up the baby and held it against his chest. “We’re getting a second chance, you and me both. You’ll have your full soul and I’m your horcrux and I’ll keep us both alive for as long as it takes for us both to lead full, happy lives without meddling headmasters.”Harry didn’t know for how long he walked around the ghostly station. Time seemed of little meaning. Harry’s body never grew hungry or tired, and he kept up a stream of reassurances and promises of a bright future at every little mutilated Tom baby he found. He had four so far, and he held them all in his arms squashed together, but none complained. All watched him with wide, disbelieving eyes. The next Tom he found wasn’t a baby, but a child, maybe seven or eight years old. His skin looked waxen and his eyes sunken as though he suffered some terrible illness.“I know you,” child Tom said.“We share a soul,” Harry said and handed child Tom one of the mutilated babies. “Here, hold this one. We’ve got one more of you to find.” Child Tom accepted the other soul piece and followed him quietly. Harry thought he might be the piece that had resided in the Gaunt ring, the second biggest piece of soul Voldemort had turned into a horcrux. Which meant that the last one would be the biggest piece.Teenage Tom looked sullen and sick and so very, very suspicious when Harry and all the little Toms approached him.“Hi, Tom,” Harry said cheerfully.“Don’t call me that,” Teenage Tom snapped and then gave Harry a look up and down. “Who are you? Do I know you? You seem familiar.”“We share a soul,” Harry told him, because saying it out loud helped him accept it. A part of Voldemort, of Tom Riddle, was part of himself now and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. “Death, I’ve got them all,” he yelled into the station, earning a confused look from teenage Tom and a curious one from child Tom.“So I see, young master,” Death said as he materialized from nothing right beside Harry. Teenage Tom jumped about a foot in the air and rushed behind Harry while the mutilated baby Toms started wailing. Child Tom had fat tears rolling down his cheeks.“When I go back, will I remain Master of Death?” Harry asked, holding the mutilated babies a little closer to comfort them.“Yes, as long as no other unites all three Hallows you shall remain my master.”And that was all Harry needed to know. “Death, could you please put these pieces back into Tom’s main soul? And I’d like to go back to the day my Hogwarts letter arrived. Thanks.” Harry pushed the three babies left in his own embrace into teenage Tom’s arms, who struggled to hold them all. “As you will it, young master, so shall it be done.” And Death touched one formless finger to Harry’s forehead, and Harry fell backwards into nothing at all.'
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