Time Travel? Really!

Prologue

Disclaimer: Not mine......unfortunately

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Rose Potter, age thirty, The-Girl-Who-Lived turned The-Witch-Who-Conquered, Unspeakable and all-around trouble magnet, groggily opened her eyes and lifted her head, peering around her surroundings to see herself once more in her personal hell ... also known as 'The Cupboard Under The Stairs', Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

''FUCK!"

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Now, to fully comprehend just how Miss Potter once more found herself in a situation of total and utter incomprehension (not that this was a strange thing, to be honest), we must first turn back to the beginning of this awful day ...

Groaning and rolling over to the sound of loud beeping filling the room, Rose rolled out of bed and flung her hand in the general direction of her oh-so-hated alarm clock. The resulting smash was both a soothing balm on her annoyance and a sound that had become a daily habit to her morning routine ever since she'd bought the crappy thing. Squinting over at the mess of broken and crushed pieces of plastic covering her bedroom floor she waved a wandless Reparo at it and watched her clock fix itself neatly before levitating it back to the bedside table, where it would be broken and destroyed once more the following day, as was her daily routine where the blasted contraption was concerned.

Rose's exploits with wandless magic had begun not long after the Second War when she was finally learning how to settle down and enjoy life without an insane madman trying to kill her at every turn. Her beloved holly and phoenix feather wand hadn't quite been a fit anymore after the destruction of the disgusting Horcrux within her; the idea that the wand she loved and adored, had trusted to save her life on numerous occasions had only needed her when she still had the parasite within her had devastated her. The turmoil had caused her magic to violently react, breaking numerous blocks on her magical core and making her wish that she could resurrect Albus Dumbledore and kill him all over again by herself.

The fact that someone she had trusted so much had abused her in such a way made her want to cry and scream at everyone and everything she could; she had trusted him so implicitly after being betrayed by so many others, yet he had still had the audacity to use her in such a way. He had blocked both the amount of magic that she could use and some innate abilities that she'd had, leaving her feeling volatile and having trouble with all manner of spells. (It had certainly given her a new perspective on her volatile teenage years.)

The upside to this situation had been a natural progression to wandless magic which simply responded to her will, and soon she'd been able to perform all manner of spells from pure need or want; she'd bought a new custom-made wand but it hadn't been a necessity to use one anymore. The books that she'd found in the Chamber of Secrets were a massive help once she raided the place, taking pride of place in her personal library of questionable materials.

After doing her morning ritual and having a light breakfast made by her faithful elf and friend Dobby, Rose made her way to the Ministry in her god-awful (in her opinion) Unspeakable robes and flooed into the Atrium with the rest of the employees. Already in her customary foul mood for the morning, Rose's day took a dive for the worse after her ex-boyfriend and general tosser got in the elevator with her. Zacharias Smith

Ugh. She could feel herself physically shudder in revulsion at the mere thought of his name. Both at the wanker standing next to her and herself for sleeping with him - more than once. Since the war Smith had actually gotten a lot better as a person and became a magical lawyer, helping all manner of people regardless of blood purity or race. Unfortunately, he had still been a wanker. Pedantic, rude, and so patronising that it was a miracle he didn't get hexed whenever he spoke to someone. But the sex had been good. Really good. Good enough to put up with him for an entire year, until he'd decided that sex with others was also really good. Prat. Rose couldn't be more thankful that the robes of the Unspeakables hid the wearer's identity so thoroughly or they'd probably be in a screaming match in the middle of the elevator for all the public to see. She was sure that people would be delighted to see her lose her composure so badly. Bunch of arseholes.