Archive of Our Own

Time. The endless, continuous progression of existence and past, present, and future events taken together.

Time was not comprehensible to the human mind, although wizards had managed to go back at least for a day, reliving the last twenty-four hours and trying to change as little of history as possible, so as not to compromise the future.

Horrible things happened to those who meddled with time.

So Harry was not particularly surprised when he found himself a long time back in the past.

“What is your name, young wizard?” was the question Harry received from the person in front of him.

He had light blond hair, combed to the side in some strange, elaborate technique that Harry certainly could not have attempted with his own hair, and blue eyes. He had no moustache nor beard, and had a few wrinkles scattered across his face, as was typical for people his age.

Not that Harry knew how old the man in front of him was.

He was dressed in fine clothes. Muggle clothes, but still elegant.

“Harry,” Harry said, before realizing he couldn’t say his own last name, since it was surely too recognizable. “Graham. Harry Graham.”

“Tell me, Harry, who are your parents?” the man asked.

“They died when I was little,” Harry answered. He had learned that the best way to fool a Legilimens was to simply tell the truth. “I have no real memory of them.” True . Dementor-induced memories didn’t count as relevant. “I was raised by Muggles.” Again, true . “They weren’t my family.” Family and being related were two very different things, and it wasn’t Harry’s fault that the man before him didn’t know that.

“You’re alone, then,” the wizard deduced.

Harry nodded.

He was alone and decidedly out of time.

“Can you come with me?” the man offered. “No one should have to suffer from loneliness.”

Well, Harry didn’t really have much of a choice. And for a Dark Lord, Gellert Grindelwald wasn’t that bad.

Although Harry didn’t understand how he could stand his suit.

***

The house where Gellert Grindelwald lived didn’t deserve to be called a house. It was a huge palace , where his followers occupied rooms on one of the floors, strictly reserved for them.

“The top floor is reserved for me,” Gellert Grindelwald explained, a hand at the base of Harry’s back to lead him up, “but I can save you a room, Harry.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied, still unsure of the best way to address the man. 

“So, I understand that you didn’t have the best education?” Grindelwald asked. “Or were you educated at some school?”

“I didn’t go to Hogwarts,” Harry said. “Self-taught.” True , since you couldn’t call the education Harry had received an education . DADA especially had been a product of Harry’s studies. “I attended a dueling club.” Even though Lockhart was an absolute failure, Harry was more than pleased with the DA and the progress his students had made. “And then, a friend of mine and I would go hunting for peculiar creatures.” And that was where Newt Scamander, while Luna was making heart-eyes at Rolf, his grandson, had sent Harry back in time with a memory from the past.

“It’s nice to have friends,” Grindelwald said, smiling slightly. Harry wondered if they taught Dark Lords to smile creepily. It was a skill not to be underestimated, since Harry was slightly frightened by that half smile. “They offer understanding and affection. Those are two things we desperately need.” After Grindelwald had taken a sip of tea, he asked, “But where is your friend now?”

“We’ve separated,” Harry admitted. Newt had sent Harry alone into the past, since Luna and Rolf were apart. “It was… an accident. A spell gone wrong, perhaps a Portkey enchanted incorrectly.”

“It’s a miracle you didn’t hurt yourself, then.” Grindelwald nodded encouragingly. “I can understand your pain. My friend… he recently managed to break the last of our bonds.”

Harry frowned. Was Grindelwald talking about Dumbledore ?

“We made a blood pact in our youth,” Grindelwald confessed, surprising Harry. Would he kill Harry at the end of the conversation so it wouldn’t matter what he’d confessed, or was Grindelwald really that lonely? “Recently, after taking away my chance to improve our world, he destroyed that pact as well.”

“You want to kill all Muggles,” Harry said, unable to hold his tongue, as he had often been told. “That’s not an improvement .”

“I want balance ,” Grindelwald corrected him. “Protection and safety. Albus knows exactly what Muggles are capable of.”

“But there must be a better way to achieve this than genocide,” Harry persisted. “They outnumber us, and their weapons can kill more than one wizard at a time . If we start a war against them, there is no victory for any wizard.”

“You recognize their danger.” Grindelwald looked pleased. Perhaps satisfied was a better word.

“I am an example of their danger.” Harry grimaced. His relatives had definitely demonstrated what frightened Muggles could do when they so chose. “But I know that killing one will only cause more destruction and an unwinnable war.”

“What would you suggest, then?” Grindelwald asked, clasping his hands in front of him.

“ What ?” Harry asked, blinking in confusion.

“I don’t want to see our kin die ,” Grindelwald said. “I want to make the world a better place for our kind. What path would you take?”

“It would be difficult and time-consuming,” Harry retorted, realizing the danger he was in.

“I have time and I have followers who will do anything for me.” Grindelwald shrugged. “Pick up on your idea. Let’s see if we can make a better world.”

Harry remembered the list of instructions Hermione had given him: don’t mess up the timeline, don’t interact with people important to history, don’t talk to your past.

Well, one out of three was a good score, right?

“I do have some ideas,” Harry began.

Maybe, he could change the future.

But not all changes were bad.