June 1st 1991

Harry jolted; he felt a physical ache in every inch of his body. Memories flooded in rushes. Harry wasn't sure how but something was different. He opened his eyes; as if ending a blink. It didn't feel like his eyes were closed for even a full second.

Harry couldn't breathe, he was in the garden of Privet Drive. There was a trowel on the floor beneath him and pulled weeds around.

It took Harry a moment. He reached through every memory he had, the war and Voldemort. His hands were smaller than he could ever really remember them being. The killing curse. The garden he had hated for years.

"The time turner." Harry gasped. Could it be possible that he had moved back in time; or maybe forward, but he doubted that. Privet drive had been burned down a long time ago and now Harry was - once again- weeding the begonias.

His hands moved automatically weeding the plants. He needed to think and it wouldn't do to be completely idleideal. It never helped him think, only worry.

This could be a dream or a nightmare, a hallucination. The dark lord could have done something to him; but after all that he had been through he doubted it. Voldemort just wanted to finish it as much as he did. He wanted to win.

"Boy, hurry up with those weeds, I want to eat sometime today." Called his uncle ruling out the dream part of his theory.

"Yes Uncle." Harry shouted back, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice; Harry couldn't stand the man. Harry weeded the garden and wished that Hermione was still alive; he would love to ask her what she thought.

As Harry entered the kitchen his eyes trained on the calendar. It was June 1991. Something that before magic Harry would have claimed to be impossible. His mind moved through everything; the time turner couldn't have done this. It could barely move a few hours. Ten years was impossible.

"Why aren't you cooking Boy?" Vernon stood in the kitchen ready to stand over the boy.

Harry stalled a moment before deciding on the path of least resistance; at least for now. "What would you like uncle?" It was only until he figured out what was going on.

Harry spent many days back in Privet drive and nothing had changed. He missed the older Dudley; they had become not quite friends but they had gained a mutual respect.

He needed to keep a low profile, think through what had a happened. Figure out what the hell he was going to do next.

Nights back in his cupboard were the hardest. His memories of the war, of his past life, were clouded and faint but they were enough to give him nightmares. However, there was a confusion in these nightmares. The memories passed in front of his eyes but the emotions didn't tear at his heart the way they once did. It was like a memory of a film rather than a memory of his own pain.

Days then began to turn into weeks and weeks turned into June twenty third. Dudley's birthday. This time however he felt genuinely sorry for Mrs Figg and her broken ankle. She was a kind woman who only wanted what was best for him.

"I could go and help her." Harry suggested, he wasn't eager to go to the zoo with his cousin. That damned snake was better locked up. "Make tea for her, I'm sure. I don't want to ruin Dudley's birthday."

"That could work Vernon." Petunia suggested. So Harry was dropped off at the squib woman's house and the Dursleys drove off.

"Oh Harry hello. I'm sorry I can't do much." She apologised as Harry passed her a cup of tea and propped her leg up.

"It's okay, Mrs Figg. May I ask you something?" Harry asked and sat down in the sofa beside a picture of Alice the cat.

"What is it?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were a squib?"

"Harry what are you talking about?" The woman looked afraid, she wasn't a great actress so couldn't hide it well.

"Don't tell Dumbledore I know but you could have told me. I'm almost eleven." He stated to her. Harry was still bouncing between time travel and hallucination theory's.

"Did the Dursleys tell you?" She looked even more nervous as she asked the question.

"They wouldn't allow me here if they knew." Harry explained. "I can't wait to go to school and get away from them. But will you be okay?" Harry looked down at the woman's leg.

"Oh Harry you're so sweet. I'll be fine son. How did you know though?"

"It's a long story."

"I think we have time Harry." She smiled looking more like the woman he had seen at the ministry during his trial; stronger somehow.

Harry took a breath and told the woman everything. He needed someone to talk to, someone to help him so he told her all about his time at Hogwarts and the war. He told her everything.

"Oh my Harry how horrible, for someone so young."

"You believe me."

"Of course dear. Why shouldn't I?" She took his hand and stroked the top of it before dropping it back down. "No one could make up a lie like that. Not with such pain in your face."

"Thank you."

"It's no problem dearie. Now you want to know what I think?" She predicted; Harry was a strong boy.

"Yes please."

"My dear Carlo, bless his soul. He studied and wrote books on time travel spells. He was fascinated with the idea, his great grandfather invented the time turner you know but he was a squib like me. I think that is what you did. Your memories travelled through time."

"I just can't wrap my head around it."

"Well dear Carlo told me much about the time turners. You can't go very far without harming yourself. Do you know that?" Harry nodded. "Well as you went very far you must have pulled yourself apart with the jump. Maybe only leaving your soul or just your memories to travel."

"It's not a dream?"

"No dear, I don't think it is, but maybe you'll be able to do better this time. You look defeated when you were talking about it. Maybe you have a second chance

Harry sighed and felt relief falling from his shoulders.

"Harry there's a step in the pantry. Use it and get the metal box from the top shelf. You deserve a biscuit. I think. You did save the world."

"Thank you Mrs Figg." He smiled at the older woman and got up for the pantry. The box was full of shortbread and rich tea biscuits. He was a little disappointed with the lack of chocolate but the hardened man inside of the ten-year-old was happy with anything that he could get.

They talked all day; mostly about the differences between Harry past and now his future. Arabella Figg also showed him some moving pictures of her late husband. She was happy to finally be able to talk to someone about the wizarding world and Harry didn't sound like a ten-year-old.

There was a knock on the door and Petunia stood with her face as sour as ever when Harry opened the door. "Thank you for taking him with your leg Mrs Figg."

"Oh it was a pleasure Petunia. Would you mind ever so much if I borrowed him again until my leg is better? He was such a help."

Petunia though for a moment before smiling. "Of course Mrs Figg. He could do your housework or your gardening for you whilst you can't. Wont you?" She bit the last words.

"Of course." Harry spoke automatically.

"Thank you both. See you tomorrow Harry". Harry bit back his smile. This summer would be far better than any he had been through before. He could survive the cabbage smell.