Tomarry Oneshots

Future Regrets

"The ministry has requested we cast the ageing spell on all 5th years."

"I've never heard on an ageing spell, Professor!" Hermione said, her hand in the air. "How does it work?"

McGonagall seemed tired and withdrawn. "It makes a grown up you appear, with memories and experiences attached, as though the entire spell had never happened."

Harry paled, and gulped. His future couldn't be good, with Voldemort around.

"You can't do that!"

"My father will hear about this!"

"I don't want to!"

"The minister insists." The professor said calmly. "If you'll follow me."

Harry glared, angered. This wasn't fair! Did they not have a choice?! It was bad enough that Umbridge had completely taken over the school! Now this?! He dragged his feet all the way to great hall.

The stopped in front of the staff table, the entire school present.

"First, Miss. Abbot."

The young girl came up, and the spell was cast, a misty like substance coming out of her chest, and forming the image of an older lady, who was quite pretty, with long blonde hair, wearing a dress. "Hello!" She said merrily.

More and more people came up, and finally:

"Mr. Potter."

Harry swallowed, making his way forward, and sat down on the stool.

The glittery white was absent for a moment, before a beam shot out of Harry's chest, forming a raven haired and emerald eyed adult, wearing black robes, which flared down to the floor.

Harry's older self had an air of authority and power, but also sadness and grief.

"Do you know what I regret most of all?" Harry's older self asked, his voice a strange mix of cold and warm, as his eyes pierced through Harry, who blinked, confused.

"What?" He asked, curiously.

His older self's eyes drifted over the staff table, before he turned and took in the great hall.

"Listening to the wrong people." He said. "I was fighting for the wrong side my entire life - I did what they wanted! AND THEY DID THIS!" Rage filled those emerald eyes, and he motioned to the side, conjuring what looked like ghosts of two people.

"Is it ready?" A female asked, with red hair, and brown eyes.

"Yes. Three drops of this love potion, and poof - you'll be Lady Potter."

"No." Harry gasped. "Hermione? Ginny?!"

His older self looked sympathetic. "It gets worse."

"What will you do once your married?" Hermione asked.

"I'll get a couple kids, and kill him."

Harry felt bile rising in his throat. "No!"

"They're dead." Harry's older said, voice cold. "I killed them not a day later. Spat on their graves too."

Harry gaped at his older self, feeling slightly disturbed, but also feeling like it was justified.

The images of his former friends' graves disappeared.

"What should I do?" Harry asked his older self, who smiled at him.

"What you should have done from the start. Let him in."

Harry's eyes widened. "L-Let who in?"

"You-know-who." A flicker of amusement filled Harry's older self's eyes.