HP one shots

Something Crazy, Something True // Harry x Harry

Summary:

With a little help, Harry presses the boundaries of time travel to comfort his younger self in his darkest moments and give himself the friend he never had. There are rules though--Harry can't change the past, and his younger self isn't allowed to remember Harry outside of their interactions. As younger Harry grows older, their relationship takes a turn Harry never expected...

Or: Time-travel Harrycest, featuring: lots of fluff and feels, some angst and hurt/comfort, eventual smut, and a happy/hopeful ending.
____________________________________

1

Harry met the man for the first time when he was seven years old, on the day he'd gotten in trouble at school for supposedly climbing onto the roof of the kitchens. It was late at night and the Dursleys were all sleeping, but Harry's thoughts and emotions wouldn't let him fall asleep—he was angry that no one believed him, and a little bit scared because he didn't understand how he'd just suddenly appeared on the roof while running from Dudley's stupid friends. He was a little bit excited too because it had been rather cool honestly, but also a little bit doubting himself because everyone else kept calling him crazy or a liar. Harry lay awake on his thin mattress inside the cramped cupboard that had always been his room, and he stared at the ceiling and wondered if he could make it happen again—if he tried really hard, could he just disappear to somewhere else? The Dursleys' roof? A totally different house where someone would actually want him?

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud POP that had him sitting up and staring at the cupboard door, wondering whether Dudley was sneaking down to harass him some more, or if Uncle Vernon had decided to follow through on his blustery threats to cane him after all. There was an odd tingly feeling that washed over him—something in the air, almost like electricity, the way it felt whenever a storm was coming—and then someone was opening his cupboard door.

Harry tensed automatically and gripped his threadbare blanket in his hands—there was nothing in the cupboard that he could defend himself with, and it would be pointless anyway because he would just get in trouble if he tried. So he tensed up and waited to see if it would be Dudley or Uncle Vernon—but it was neither.

It was a man—young, but still clearly a grown-up—and he had messy black hair just like Harry's, and bright green eyes just like Harry's, and he was holding something that looked like a twig off of a tree. Impossibly, a ball of light seemed to hover just at the tip of the twig, lighting up the cupboard with a soft glow.

The man looked sad but also kind—like he cared about Harry, like he knew him somehow.

"Hi, Harry," he said softly, giving him a sad and forced looking smile.

"Hello," Harry said automatically. Then he blurted out, "Are you my dad?"

The man seemed to choke on air for a second, and then he looked sad again. "No, I'm not. I'm sorry."

"Are you an uncle then?" Harry tried, trying not to show his disappointment—he'd hoped, for one impossible second, that the Dursleys had lied about his parents being dead and that his dad was here to save him. "Older brother?"

The man shook his head and then ran one hand through his hair, pushing his fringe out of the way to reveal a very familiar lightning bolt shaped scar. "This is going to sound crazy," the man said, "but I'm you, from the future."

Harry blinked at him a few times, and then decided that this day had already been weird and impossible enough that he should just go with it. "Are you here to rescue me then?"

The man's expression turned sad again, and he said, "I can't, I'm sorry. I can't actually change anything. I'm just here because I remember that you had a bad day today, and that it would've been nice to have someone to talk to."