Sitting across from Professor Flitwick discussing the accusations she raised against Professor Snape a young Ravenclaw Irish witch named Muirenn Sionann's eyes glass over as she speaks in a tone like crystals signing in the forest wind. "The eye of the storm approaches. Shadows gather upon the horizon, and all will be brought to the brink. The Child of Light shall bring forth a new era of revitalization and the cycle shall begin anew. The eye of the storm approaches."

​

An alternate Harry Potter timeline

The prophecy changed everything.

Lily Potter heard it and reached a conclusion that James could not accept: if Voldemort intended to kill their son, then defeating him was no longer enough. They had to make sure he could never threaten Harry again.

She began developing a curse unlike anything recorded in the Ministry's archives.

Its victim remained conscious. The brain continued to function. The eyes could move, and the mind could understand everything happening around it. But the body became completely numb and unresponsive.

No wand movement. No countercurse. No escape.

Her first victim was Bellatrix Lestrange.

James was horrified.

He had married a woman who was brave, intelligent, and compassionate. He now watched her become vindictive, increasingly willing to inflict suffering on anyone she considered a threat. He separated from her, unable to reconcile the woman he loved with the witch she was becoming.

Then he remembered the prophecy.

Harry was still in danger.

James returned.

But unlike Lily, he did not try to perfect her curse. His mastery of magic had always surpassed hers, and he pursued a different solution.

He developed the Suicide Curse.

Its victims killed themselves after being struck by it. No visible wound. No spectacular explosion. No obvious sign of a duel. Just a person who, moments earlier, had been alive and then inexplicably chose to end their own life.

The curse was James's secret.

Lily immobilized her enemies.

James made them disappear from the world through their own actions.

And then, one winter evening, Lord Voldemort died.

He was found dead. There was no evidence of an intruder, no duel to investigate, no apparent explanation for his final moments.

The Ministry announced that the Dark Lord was dead.

The Death Eaters scattered.

The war ended.

Nobody knew why Tom Riddle had killed himself.

Nobody suspected James Potter.

And nobody understood that the most dangerous magic in Britain had not been created by Voldemort, but by the parents of the boy he had tried to kill.

Harry Potter grew up in a world where his parents were celebrated as heroes. He never learned what they had done to save him.

I am looking for Fanfictions in which Harry inquires about the school under which he was entered. That is a point I have not seen covered in any Fanfiction. The point of Harry's school? Will he get a representative judge? Is he in that school for one year only or will he continue there instead of Hogwarts?

Harry spluttered as he pulled himself and the odd creature out of the water. Ever since Uncle Vernon had gotten that promotion, the Dursley's had done a bunch of renovations to the house. Ranging from moving Harry to what had been Dudley's second bedroom to installing a pool in the back garden. Harry hadn't expected his first swim in said pool to be diving in in the middle of the night, rescuing some sort of alien that'd fallen from space.

He side eyed the blue creature, furry and spikey in equal measure. The oddest thing about it was that the only clothing it wore were a pair of white gloves and a set of red sneakers. " Um, I don't know if you can understand me," Harry said softly, "but are you okay? You fell an awful long way."

The creature hacked and spluttered for a few more minutes before looking at him sidewards with bright green eyes that matched Harry's own, a cocky smirk spreading across its face.

"Nah, I'm fine. Never better," He laughed. "I'm Sonic. Sonic the Hedgehog. Pleasure to drop in on ya!"

It’s not fair! Colin got petrified, they said Justin died, Ginny was gone, and when Hogwarts reopens, Hermione is given the time turner only to go to class?? It’s not right! Why shouldn’t she try to save them?! They at least deserve someone trying to help them, it’s less than a year ago, and she knows it’s a basilisk now! Was it really meddling if she wasn’t sure Justin and Ginny died?

One of the main rules of going to the past is “you must not be seen”.

“Harry, could I borrow your invisibility cloak? Just for tonight?”

(Time travel open to either changing the past or the closed loop theory. Intent is that canon is the corrected version.)

Nine fifth-year Slytherins occupied the corner nearest the fireplace.

Draco Malfoy had claimed the largest armchair, with Pansy Parkinson perched on its arm. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle sat nearby, sharing a bag of sweets that Goyle had apparently acquired from somewhere.

Blaise Zabini was stretched across the opposite sofa, looking thoroughly bored. Theodore Nott sat beside him with a book resting on one knee.

At the small table, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis were ostensibly completing their Charms homework, although neither had touched a quill in nearly twenty minutes.

Millicent Bulstrode sat on the rug, leaning against the sofa.

"Montague's gone completely mad with it," Blaise remarked.

Draco looked up. "With what?"

"The Squad. He's been stopping third-years in the corridors and asking where they're going."

"He's supposed to," Draco replied.

"At half past eight in the evening?"

"There's a curfew."

"Not at half past eight."

Pansy gave an impatient sigh. "Honestly, Blaise, you complain about everything."

"Only things worth complaining about."

Tracey smiled into her parchment.

Draco leaned forward. "Montague's doing exactly what Professor Umbridge expects of him. Someone has to keep order around here."

"Yes," said Daphne, without looking up. "Because Hogwarts was in absolute anarchy before Montague started interrogating twelve-year-olds."

Crabbe snorted.

Draco shot him a look. "What's funny?"

"Nothing."

"Then shut up."

Goyle passed Crabbe another sweet.

For a moment, only the crackling of the fire could be heard.

"Well," Millicent said, "personally, I don't mind Umbridge giving us a bit more freedom. Filch practically bows whenever he sees one of you lot coming."

"That's because he knows we have authority," Pansy said proudly.

"Authority to do what, exactly?" Tracey asked.

"Take points. Report misconduct. Enforce school regulations."

"And annoy people," Blaise added.

"That's a bonus," said Draco.

This time even Daphne laughed.

Theodore turned a page.

"Oi, you’ve been awfully quiet this whole conversation. What's your problem with it, Nott?" Draco asked. “You've been sitting there looking miserable for an hour."

"I’ve been reading," said Theodore.

"Well, you could at least show some interest."

Theodore slowly closed his book. "All right, Draco. Would you like my opinion?"

"Go on."

"I think Umbridge is considerably more interested in controlling the school for the sake of control than actually improving it."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Oh, not you as well."

"She hasn't taught us a single practical defensive spell all year," Theodore continued. "And we're sitting our O.W.L.s in two months."

"Professor Umbridge knows what she's doing," Draco insisted.

"Does she?"

"Of course she does!"

"Then perhaps she'll explain how we're supposed to defend ourselves against a curse by reading about it."

Blaise grinned. "Careful, Theo. That's almost a reasonable argument."

Draco's expression darkened. "You're all missing the point."

"And what's the point?" Daphne asked.

"That Dumbledore's been running this school however he likes for years, and now someone from the Ministry is finally doing something about it."

"Father says Dumbledore's losing his influence," Crabbe contributed.

"Mine says the same," Goyle added.

"Your fathers seem to agree on an awful lot," said Tracey, as she glanced toward Daphne.

Crabbe shrugged. "Because they're right."

"Naturally," Daphne murmured dryly.

Draco straightened in his chair.

"Anyway, the Ministry wouldn't have sent Umbridge here if there weren't serious problems. Potter's been spreading rubbish since June, and Dumbledore's encouraging him."

At the mention of Potter, Blaise gave an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, here we go."

"What?"

"Nothing, continue."

Draco ignored him. "Potter claims the Dark Lord's returned, and half the school acts as though he's some kind of prophet."

"Not half," Millicent said. "Mostly the Gryffindors."

"And half the Hufflepuffs," Pansy added. “And a few Ravenclaws here and there.”

"Well, they're idiots," Draco declared.

Theodore said nothing. Daphne noticed. "Do you think he's lying, Theo?"

Theodore looked at her. "Who, Potter?"

"Yes."

Theodore hesitated. "I think Potter genuinely believes what he's saying."

Draco laughed. "That doesn't make it true."

"No," Theodore agreed. "It doesn't."

"But you think it is?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what are you saying?"

Theodore regarded him for a moment. "I'm saying Cedric Diggory went into that maze alive and came out dead. Potter came out with his body, claiming something happened that the Ministry doesn't want to discuss. And rather than investigate it properly, Fudge seems determined to convince everyone that Potter's gone mad."

Pansy folded her arms. "Perhaps Potter has always been mad."

"Perhaps," Theodore said.

"He's always been an attention-seeker," Draco added.

"That doesn't explain what happened to Diggory, though," Tracey replied quietly.

There was a short silence.

Millicent shifted against the sofa. "Could've been an accident."

"An accident that killed him?" Daphne asked.

"Well, something happened in that maze."

"Obviously something happened," Blaise said. "The question is what."

Draco looked irritated. "You're all acting as though Potter's the only person who knows anything."

"Then enlighten us," Blaise said.

"I don't have to."

"Convenient."

Pansy leaned closer to Draco. "Don't bother with him."

But Theodore was watching Draco with an expression Daphne couldn't quite interpret. "Your father must have an opinion," he said.

Draco hesitated. "My father knows considerably more about what's happening than Potter does."

"That wasn't what I was alluding to."

"Well, perhaps you should ask your own father."

Theodore's face changed almost imperceptibly. "I have."

The words hung in the air. Crabbe stopped chewing. Goyle looked between them.

Draco shifted in his seat. "And?"

Theodore reopened his book. "He doesn't discuss everything with me."

For several seconds nobody spoke.

Then Tracey broke the silence. "Well, whatever's happening outside Hogwarts, I don't see how making Montague patrol the corridors is going to solve it."

"Montague's a seventh-year," Millicent said. "He likes being important."

"He's always liked being important," Daphne replied. "Now he's got a badge to prove it."

Pansy frowned. "You're being awfully critical of the Squad for someone who benefits from it."

Daphne looked up. "Do I? Benefit?"

"Of course you do. We're Slytherins."

"And?"

"And we're finally getting treated properly."

Daphne exchanged a glance with Tracey, then turned her head back to Pansy. "Being treated properly is one thing, Pansy. Being allowed to do whatever we like simply because Umbridge dislikes Gryffindors is another."

Draco scoffed. "You almost sound like Granger."

Daphne's expression cooled. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Then stop talking like her."

Tracey put down her quill. "She doesn't have to agree with everything you say, Draco."

"I wasn't talking to you, Davis."

"Well, you are now."

Blaise made a quiet, appreciative noise. "Wonderful. We're finally having an interesting evening."

"Shut it, Blaise," Draco snapped.

"Gladly."

Crabbe leaned toward Goyle. "Greg?"

"What?"

"Got any more of those?"

Goyle looked into the empty bag. "No, Vince."

"Brilliant."

Millicent groaned. "Can you two think about anything besides food?"

"Yeah," Crabbe replied.

"What?"

"Quidditch."

Blaise burst out laughing. Even Draco's mouth twitched, despite himself. For a moment, the tension lifted.

Then Theodore spoke again. "There's something else." Everyone looked at him. "If the Dark Lord really has returned, Umbridge's Defense lessons are going to be the least of our problems."

Draco's smile vanished.

Pansy stared at Theodore. "You shouldn't say things like that!"

"Why?"

"Because! You just shouldn't."

Theodore looked toward the dark window, where something enormous moved slowly beyond the glass. "That's not much of an answer."

Draco stood. "Well, in any case, I think Potter's a liar, Dumbledore's losing his mind, and Umbridge is the best thing that's happened to this school in years."

"Good for you," Blaise said.

Draco glared at him. "Come on, Crabbe. Goyle."

The two boys got up, Crabbe brushing crumbs from his robes.

Pansy rose as well. "Are you coming, Millicent?"

"In a minute."

Draco headed toward the boys' staircase, with Crabbe and Goyle following, but at the bottom step, he stopped. "And Nott?"

Theodore looked up. "What?"

"Perhaps you ought to be more careful about what you say."

Theodore met his gaze. "Perhaps you ought to be more careful about what you believe."

Draco said nothing. Then he turned and disappeared up the stairs. A moment later, Pansy departed for the girls' dormitory. The common room settled into silence.

Blaise stared at the ceiling. "Well. That was pleasant."

Millicent shook her head. "You really shouldn't wind him up like that, Theo."

"He asked."

"That's never stopped you before."

Daphne began gathering her parchment. Tracey leaned toward her. "Do you think Potter's telling the truth?"

Daphne hesitated. Across the room, Theodore was once again pretending to read.

"I don't know," Daphne admitted.

Tracey lowered her voice. "Neither do I."

Blaise sat up. "For what it's worth, I think Fudge is frightened of something."

"Fudge is always frightened of something," Millicent said.

"Precisely."

Theodore closed his book. "That's what worries me."

Beyond the windows, the black water pressed against the glass. None of them needed to say anything else. The atmosphere pretty much encapsulated what they were all thinking. If Voldemort has in fact returned, the wizarding world status quo wouldn't be able to protect anyone.

Werewolves vs Actual Wolf Trainer.

Harry having heard from marge about dog behavior gets the idea so they do a test: remus locked in a room with a pumpkin suffed with meat or a Ball with Jerky in it. No potion and they walls are warded to test if he hurts himself.

Dyscalculia is Dyslexia, but for numbers specifically.

I NEED someone to please write something on the song - Family Line by conan gray, talking about siri and reg
it could be a non canon compliant where reg runs away with siri and they’re thinking about their childhood, or a two pov story talking about both of them at the same time, etc
i’m not picky, do your magic please!!

So I've had an idea for a fic in the back of my head for a while. It'd be one of those ones where the Potters live and Harry's still sent to live with the Dursleys for safety reasons, (in this case because he was declared a squib). When they went looking for him, because his name came out the goblet of fire or something, they find him in a different magic school halfway around the world that specializes in magic relating beast taming and channeling nature spirits. And this results in the revelation that everyone on the planet can use magic. I imagine most people would use it by channel magic from the air around them and wizarding Europe uses internal magic stores which is why they couldn't detect other forms of magic.

“Kept what from me?” said Harry eagerly.

“STOP! I FORBID YOU!” yelled Uncle Vernon in panic.

Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.

“Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh,” said Hagrid. “Harry, yer a Horcrux.”

There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.

“I’m a what?” gasped Harry.

“A Horcrux, o’ course,” said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, “an’ a rather unusual one, I’d say, considerin’ yer still alive."

“A Horcrux?” he repeated faintly. “What’s a Horcrux?”

Hagrid opened his mouth, then closed it again. He scratched his head, “Well, it’s, er... Dark stuff, Harry. The worst sort. Summat a wizard does when he’s done somethin’ terrible, he puts a bit of himself in an object, an’... well, I never studied it, mind. Nobody sensible did.”

“Can I get it out?”

“Dunno,” said Hagrid, and he fell silent for a moment, then suddenly slapped a hand against his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse.

"Gallopin’ Gorgons, that reminds me!”

From another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl, a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl, a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth, he scribbled a note that Harry could read upside down:

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Told Harry what he is. Taking him to buy his things tomorrow. Think we might have a bit of a problem. Hope you’re well.

Hagrid

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm.

Harry realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly.

“Where was I?” said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon, still ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight.

“He’s not going anywhere,” he said.

Hagrid grunted.

“I’d like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him,” he said.

“A what?” said Harry, interested despite himself.

“A Muggle,” said Hagrid, “it’s what we call nonmagic folk like them. An’ it’s your bad luck you grew up in a family o’ the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on.”

“We swore when we took him in we’d put a stop to that rubbish,” said Uncle Vernon, “swore we’d stamp the Horcrux out of him!”

“You knew?” said Harry. “You knew I was a Horcrux?”

There is no such thing as a Boy Who Lived

It’s just a story, the sort of story parents tell their children to get them to eat their vegetables or shame them into behaving. “Now come on Harry Potter wouldn’t act up in public”, “Don’t you want to be big and strong like Harry Potter?” There are even story books written, but those were just silly adventure stories for kids. No real child could possibly go through a gauntlet of traps to save the philosopher’s stone, defeat a basilisk, time travel to save a man from a dark wizard traitor, fly against a dragon, escape dark wizards or go on a deadly scavenger hunt for special artifacts to save the world. There were even stories for little kids about being nice to house elves, befriending hippogriffs, swimming with merpeople and a funny story about outsmarting a pink toad. 

Where after the war the fame is even worse than before so Harry resorts to drastic measures he didn’t think through. Now no one believes that Harry Potter the Boy Who Lived is real. If you ask what happened his second year of school they’ll tell you someone was cursing students, 3rd year a dangerous convict was trying to kill someone, fourth year there were only 3 contestants in the Tournament. And the war well that wasn’t the boy who lived Harry Potter, that was the man who Conquered. No one knows his real name but they are all grateful he saved them. 

Harry could no longer be Harry even his friends don’t recognize the name and are confused by what to call him. So Harry gets to choose a whole new identity for himself and doesn’t have to deal with the fame anymore. The problem is that looking back on it, he’s proud of the things he managed to do and he doesn’t want them forgotten. So instead he decides to take a page from Gilderoy Lockhart, except it’s his own stories he’s writing. They are written as tales for young children all the way to teens depending on the tale he wrote. 

Role reversal AU. Tom is the Boy Who Live and Harry is the "DarkLord".

Well, a Dark Lord not by choice and only in Technicality.

Basically, tom and harrys generation is swap, with slight changes.

Harry is still orphaned and lived with his Aunt and Uncle.

He met his friends as is canon just without the yearly Death Eater Shenenigans though its stil as chaotic, absurd and dangerous more than a normal students life because Harry potter wont be harry potter without it.

War is still in the horizon, Grindelward is on the loose and Dumbledore is sitting on his ass safely in the school as always.

Predujice is still rampant and half bloolds and muggle born are treated as though they are lower than dirt.

Harry being harry sees the injustice and decided to change it.

With his friends, both muggle borns, half blood and purebloods who shares his views, Harry and co rallied and drag magic kicking and screaming to new heights never seen before by combining magic with muggle science and logics and ideas.

This made everyone in the opposition uneasy as harry began to rise in power both in magic and politics. Changes are being made and they were doing great until they arent, as the purebloods pull a one over them and declare harry a darklord of greater threat than Grindelward both in power and ideology.

The worse part is that they arent exactly wrong in some points seeing how powerful harry is and how jarringly absurd and unconventional the magic that Harry and his friends wields.

Fast soundless apparation with no danger of dismemberment, self transfiguration that immitates metamorphagus abilties, broomless flight/self levitation, nigh perfect memory rwtwntion mind magics, spells that allows them to talk to creatures of all kinds, permanently turning led to gold that had the maker of the Philosophers stone flabbergasted. a way to extend ones life without diving in to alchemy or dark arts. Spells that are light in nature but the results suggrsted otherwise.

Needless to say, they had everyone afraid of them and the blood purist began taking more drastic actions as well.

The pureblood attacks, they persecute, harrass and single out half bloods and muggle borns and harry and his friends defend and take action and everything just escalate more and more until it comes to the point that both sides had to resort to murder of all things and harry hates it.

So harry tracks down the gaunts and flaunt them to the wizarding world in all their inbred glory to make them see what happens when your blood became a bit too "pure".

Harry hates whats hes doing and is miserable inside as he hit the gaunts one by one in public with a spell that awfully look like the killing curse(harry tried to change tha spells appearance but nothing works so he just deals and suck it up) that only kills the target if they are pureblood and would back fire at the user and disintegrate the user if used on a muggle, muggle born or half blood.

A nessessary precaution lest harry and his friends fall to depravity and hypocrisy.

Unfortunately, he wasnt aware that baby tom is a halfblood and the spells backfire at harry.

Now in a invisible floating spectral body, courtesy of a astral projection spell luna made, and staring at the pile of clothes and the dust particles floating in the air from it. Harry could only think one think.

"Fuck—!"

Tldr:

Harrys side, despite being labeled a dark lord himself, is actually the good side in the situation and the other side is the dark side, which while not exactly all evil, its still the side that has racist beliefs and morality that would plunge the wizarding britain to extinction if left unattended and the only reason that it hasnt is because of harrys side doing their own questionable actions with good intentions and tangible actual results until the faithful day of halloween.