The Emerald Terror

Questioning Magic

The Emerald Terror

Summary: It wasn't supposed to end like this. The light was supposed to win and everyone should have continued on living peacefully. Too bad the muggles don't believe in happily ever after... nor coexistence it seems. "Goodbye Magic." Time travel fic.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter One: Questioning Magic

"Forgive me."

The roof starts to cave in, her wand is pointed in my face, and a green light hits me The last words I hear are not her apologies, but a few maddening sneers.

"Good riddance, magic."

--- POV Harry Potter ---

"Mione!" I scream as I launch myself up in the bed, it takes me a while to calm down but before I have even accomplished that I am scanning the room to assess the situation I am in. My magic compensating for the blind spot caused by the loss my left eye four years ago, not that it had been the most important loss at the time of course. It still wasn't really, no matter what some of the others say about it now.

We had lost Seamus that day, Dean following only two days after him.

It takes me a bit to realize that I'm actually in Hogwarts' Hospital wing. Hermione had been talking about going back in time but I had thought it would be the two of us together.

"Forgive me."

My hands clench and I shut my eye against the pain of having just lost my last friend. I couldn't let her down. Couldn't let any of them down.

A much younger looking Dumbledore is on my right and two witches, one old the other just past gaining her majority, are on my left. I had gone back further than planned. It was only supposed to be a few days after the final battle.

"What's the year?" I ask, my voice strange as my body gets used to the cleaner environment. The mundanes had taken a liking to bombing us a while back and a 45.72000 to 54.86400 meter (50 to 60 yards) contamination radius may not seem all that important but intensely over the span of six years...let's just say it caused a lot of damage to everything.

"I believe it is us who should be asking the questions, my boy," Dumbledore says, and I feel the urge to attack him. I wonder what he would have done if he had survived the Second Blood War? Offered the gun waving mundanes with their threats of warfare a lemon drop as he silently looked down on them as if they were harmless? Yes. That's something the old fool would do.

"September 8th, 1944" A young voice that sounds painfully like Madam Pomfrey says to my left and Dumbledore glances in her direction annoyed for a brief second.

1944. I had definitely overshot my target date.

"Yes, well, could you please tell us who you are?" He asks in that tone that means it is not a request but an order. Of course, the first thing that comes to mind is Emerald Terror, but I can't use that. I might be able to get by with Potter, even if it tasted weird in my mouth now after years of being unused, unfortunately, my first name had to go. What was my first name anyway? I only remembered my family name due to a combination of the remaining DA's insistence on calling me by it at least once a week and Zabini's no exceptions policy of having all of us carry nameplates in our belongings. When asked, on several occasions, why the former Slytherin had always come up with some excuse or another that made an annoying amount of sense. Thinking of which they had probably gone through my stuff and found that so I really did need to use Potter as my bloodline. But what name had I been given? It had started with an H, I knew that much at least. Madam Pomfrey had called me by it once shortly before she died hadn't she? Harold, or Harley, or something like that... Harry. That's it. Harry, short for Hadrian.