Harry Potter and the Impossibility of Time Travel

 

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all the other characters of
the Harry Potter Verse belong to J.K. Rowling. I don’t own any of it, and I
won’t make any profit with this story.

 

A/N: I’m ChibiChibi, and this is my very first Harry Potter fan fiction. If you like it, go on with reading, there are still a couple of other finished chapters just waiting to be posted. Have fun!

 

 

Chapter 1: As the Years Passed 

 

It was yet another sultry summer night at the Burrow near the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. The whole day not even the slightest breeze had come over the dry land but now, near midnight, the wind slowly seemed to pick up. The sky was starlit and it was almost completely dark except for the light that shone through the windows of the Burrow. Everyone was inside, having a huge party, but one person sat outside on a trunk and stared into the sky, now
and then taking a drag at his cigarette.

He did not like the taste of it, but still he could not stop. The fags seemed to be the only thing to ease some of the tension that had been built up in his body over the last years. He had started this bad habit some time during his seventh year when the stress with the NEWTs (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests) and the feeling of helplessness because of the looming threat of the Death Eaters had become too much to bear. He had so badly wanted to go out and do something, but he had known that he had not been ready then. Voldemort had gained too much power over the three years since he fully came back at the end of fourth year. Only one person was still able to rival him,
and that person was Albus Dumbledore. But there was a catch. Dumbledore would not be able to kill Voldemort. Killing the Dark Lord -- or still He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in most wizards’ opinion -- was his burden, his alone, and no one could take it from him. It was his destiny, his prophecy.

 

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies …

 

Twenty-one-year-old Harry Potter ran a hand through his long unruly hair. Even after hearing it only once five years ago, he still knew it by heart. He no longer was The Boy Who Lived. Ever since the "incident," as the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, liked to call it, in the Department of Mysteries, The Boy Who Lived had become The Man Who Fought. During his sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts, he had worked harder than ever before, rivalling
even Hermione with the top scores, making his way free to auror training after school. The new look, hair down to his shoulder, though often tied back, black-rimmed spectacles replaced by enchanted contact lenses, and -- through regular
workout sessions -- a lean-but-muscular body had earned him the title heartbreaker. How he had received the title was still a mystery for him, because after Sirius’s death, dating had been the last point on his to-do-list. 

 

If his friends had been worried about him those last two years at Hogwarts, they had not shown it. Instead they had supported him to his fullest, though he had never told them -- never told anyone -- about the prophecy.
He did not want to drag them into his fight. He had already lost his parents and his godfather and he was not ready to lose another one who was close to him.

 

Much to everyone’s surprise Voldemort himself had been lying low during those two years and had instead only sent his Death Eaters to wreak havoc. Most targeted were muggles or muggle-born witches and wizards, but purebloods who were opposing the Dark Lord had also not been safe from attacks.

 

Three years ago, during the last Quidditch match (Gryffindor versus Slytherin), shortly before Harry’s seventh year at Hogwarts was over, Voldemort had attacked with a large army. The battle had been ferocious.
Students had died as well as teachers. Minerva McGonagall had gone down facing ten Death Eaters, taking all of them with her. Neville Longbottom, the once so shy and clumsy boy, had died protecting a group of first years who had not been able to make it into the castle in time. Harry had heard it from Hermione after the battle had been over and Voldemort had retreated, though no one had understood why. The Dark Lord had been clearly on the winning side. Harry still
assumed that it had just been a show of his power to humiliate Dumbledore, himself and everyone who followed the old headmaster.

 

However, during the battle Harry had formed an unlikely alliance. Somehow while warding off Death Eaters, he had lost sight of Hermione and Ron and had been fighting along with some other students through some of
Voldemort’s black-hooded followers. He had only seen out of the corner of his eyes how one of them had raised his wand, but at the same moment he had heard a strangely familiar voice calling out “Expelliarmus!� The wand of that Death Eater had flown out of his hand and Harry had turned around to see Draco Malfoy, still like Harry in his Quidditch gear, running up to him. Harry had eyed him suspiciously, his mistrust having grown even more after having seen the Dark Mark burning through a rip in the silver and green uniform. “Damn it, Potter!
Watch out!� the Slytherin had yelled, just in time for Harry to duck and avoid a killing curse. Draco had pulled his surprised arch-nemesis to his feet and had smirked at the look on his face. “Dumbledore sent me to watch your back.�

“Did he?� Harry had mumbled and had looked around to see his headmaster about fifty yards to his left. Their eyes had met and Dumbledore had nodded, as though knowing the question that had been in Harry Potter’s head. Could he trust Malfoy? He had just saved his life, twice. This had to mean something. But maybe it had just been a trick? "Dumbledore trusts him. Trust Dumbledore’s judgement!" “Fine Malfoy! You watch my back, I watch yours.�

“Sounds like a plan to me.� The two young men, once enemies, had nodded at each other and then had stood back-to-back to face yet another wave of Death Eaters.

 

Harry smiled grimly at this memory. He had survived the battle nearly unscathed as had few others. The hospital wing had been crowded for days after. Many students had to be transferred to St. Mungo’s. Luckily
Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna had only received minor injuries and had been able to leave the hospital wing after a couple days. The day of the battle was the gravest day ever since Voldemort had been defeated the first time. And Harry himself had not even seen him. This only confirmed his assumption that Voldemort had only gone for the humiliation in this battle.

At the last day of the school year, a large ceremony had been held for all those who had lost their lives during the fight. That day, as Harry saw all the pictures of the ones who had died, he swore to himself that he would not rest until Voldemort was dead. Though when he had first heard the prophecy it had been a horrifying thought to kill him, it did not bother him any more -- and only a few days later, Harry had found himself enrolled in Auror training.

 

He had again been surprised, when he had found out that Draco Malfoy would be in his class. He had also seen some other students from his year and also from years above him. They lived in rooms for four
persons directly on the grounds of the training centre. Training had been hard, harder than he had expected, and some of the others had given up. But he had not. He had learned curses and counter curses, received lessons in hand-to-hand-combat, fighting with swords and other weapons and duelling. Theories and laws had been pumped into their heads until they could not think straight anymore. But Harry had kept going until he and only a handful others had received their diplomas at the end of the two years. And again, after those two years, Harry did not know if fate was for or against him, because he and Draco Malfoy became partners. Most surprisingly for both of them, it actually worked out. They were not friends, but after the Battle of Hogwarts and
later during the training, they formed some kind of truce and tolerated each other.

During his training he had also developed other useful abilities. First he had become an –- registered, of course -– Animagus. From the moment on, he knew what his Animagus form would be, all the doubts that had been plaguing him since his second year when they had found out about his being a Parselmouth and the rumours about his being the heir of Slytherin had been gone, because his form was the one of a mighty lion, the symbol for Gryffindor. Apparation came to him like a second nature and he found that he sometimes was able to cast spells without using his wand or just by thinking the
spell. He had of course, immediately after discovering this, contacted Hermione, who had told him only a few days later that this was a rare occurrence but possible. In this time, only another wizard was known for those abilities
–- Voldemort. "Figures," Harry
had thought. "The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not."

 

Harry absentmindedly touched the scar on his right cheek. A reminder from another enclosure with Death Eaters. It had been shortly after the Auror training and he and Draco had been sent out to a "beginner’s mission," as it was called, to catch some minor criminals. However, as they had arrived at the address they were told it had turned out to be an ambush. Several Death Eaters were lurking for them in the shadows and attacked as soon as they arrived. The leader of the attack -- Lucius Malfoy -- stunned his own son, then advanced upon Harry. Before Harry could even react, he had been disarmed, his wand now lingering in the hand of one of the Death Eaters. He had tried to dodge the curse Lucius had sent at him, but barely managed to. He had felt blood trickling down his cheek, as he had tried to sit up again. He could still see the cruel smirk on the elder Malfoy’s face and feel the rage he had felt burning inside. This had been the first time he had
used the wandless magic in public and the first time he had ever killed a human being. After the display of that power, the rest of the Death Eaters had just run. After reviving Draco, Harry had informed his partner that he had killed his
father and that he was not sorry for Lucius but for Draco. His answer had only been a few words. "He was never my father." And for the first time since Harry had known Draco Malfoy, he felt
truly sorry for him.

After their return to the Ministry to report the events, the traitor was exposed (due to the use of Veritaserum on the Aurors), and he was arrested and thrown into Azkaban.

 

While Harry had been busy with his auror training, Hermione had also decided to do something useful and prepared younger generations in the art of Transfiguration at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had offered her the position on their last day at Hogwarts. Hermione had declined at first, but after she had told Harry and Ron about the proposal, they had persuaded her to accept. Of course she always said that she would never be as good as the deceased Professor McGonagall, but she would do her best.

After her graduation, Ginny had followed in her brother Bill's footsteps as a curse breaker and Luna Lovegood helped her father with The Quibbler. But Ron’s career after Hogwarts had been the most surprising. During his last two-and-a-half years he had finally found something at which he was not just mediocre, but really good. Only one week after his graduation the trainer of the Chudley Cannons, offering him the position as Keeper, had approached Ron. Though he had been excited, his first reaction had been like Hermione’s. He had told him that the wizarding as well as the Muggle worlds were in grave danger and that he did not have time to play on their team, as much as he had wanted to. The trainer had nodded in nderstanding and had given him his card, in case Ron changed his mind. He had, after a lot of talking, fighting and discussing with his family and friends. They had told him that he should do what
he really wanted to as long as it was still possible, but could still be a member of the Order, if he wished to.

 

Harry was glad that Ron and Hermione and also Ginny and Luna had found what they really wanted to do, while he himself was always thinking if he would have wanted to do something different if the threat of Voldemort had not been ever-present. Hermione was usually practically glowing when she came out of a classroom, having shared her knowledge with her pupils. And Ron, well, Ron was the reason there was this great party at the
Burrow. Today was the day of the Quidditch Championship Finale of Great Britain, and it was the Chudley Cannons versus Puddlemere United, with the Cannons coming out as the winning team. For the first time in years, the Cannons won the title, and that was reason enough to party. The match itself had been really interesting, though most former Hogwarts students -- and especially Gryffindors -- had not known whom to cheer for. On the Puddlemere side, the Keeper
was Oliver Wood, former Gryffindor Team Captain and on the Cannons side it was Ron Weasley, whose reputation as Keeper was rivalling Wood’s at Hogwarts.

 

“You know, you should give up that bad habit of yours,� the voice of a young woman scolded.

“Should I?� Harry looked at Hermione Granger, who sat down next to him in the grass. In the last years, she had become a throughoughly beautiful young woman. She was thin, but not too thin, and she did not hide her curves anymore when she was not wearing robes. Her once-bushy hair had finally settled down and was now only slightly wavy.

“Yes, you should. They will kill you someday, you know?�
Though the voice was still accusing, he could hear the humour in it and he could also see a small smile playing on her lips. “You should also come inside. It’s not only Ron’s party, but also yours in a couple of minutes.�

In a couple of minutes would be the 31st of July and then he would be twenty-one years old. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month
dies …"

“It’s calm … too calm … for too long. Something will happen soon,� Harry mumbled thoughtfully.

Hermione sighed. “I think so too. It has been a couple of months since the last attack. But let’s go inside now. The others are waiting and only sitting here and waiting for an attack will do no good. You should enjoy yourself from time to time.�

Harry managed a smile as he got up. “You’re right. Let’s go.� He took one last drag from his cigarette and threw it to the ground before squishing it with his boot.

Suddenly, from one second to another, a burning pain shot through his scar. He winced sharply and felt cold sweat on his forehead. An all-too-familiar hissing voice appeared in his mind.

"Morsmordre!"

Harry’s eyes shot to the sky. A nervous Hermione followed his gaze. “Harry, what’s …� Before she could even finish the question, a skull with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue lit the sky and
nature around them in an emerald green. “The Dark Mark …�

“Hermione! Go, get the others!� When she did not react, his command turned into a yell. “GO! NOW! THEY’RE HERE!�

Their eyes met, and he knew that she understood. Tonight was the night. He watched her run back to the Burrow, before pulling his wand out of his boot, waiting.

A/N: Just for your information – I don’t speak latin, so the spell I used is most likely wrong. I looked up the words „shift“ and „time“ and this is how the spell came to be…

 

Chapter 2: Proferre Tempus

Hermione stumbled over the lawn to the front door of the Burrow and pulled it open, completely out of breath. The still-partying occupants turned their heads, fully expecting Harry to be in Hermione’s company, but confusion was evident on their faces, when they spotted her disheveled form. Hermione’s face was flushed a deep red, her eyes wide and hair messy from the run.

“Oy ‘Mione, what’s up?� Ron, still wearing his orange and black Chudley Cannons attire, asked. “Where’s Harry?�

“The Dark Mark!� she breathed. “Death Eaters are here! Harry is waiting for them … �

The whole room went silent and quick looks between the present members of the Order of Phoenix were exchanged. “Molly,� Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody ordered, his magical blue eye moving too fast for anyone to see more than a blur, “get Dumbledore. We try to keep them at bay until the others arrive.�

Molly Weasley grabbed a Phoenix-formed pendant around her neck and disappeared with a plop. The Weasley twins, Fred and George, as well as their older brothers, Charlie and Bill, ran past Hermione, their wands poised in their hands, followed by their father Arthur Weasley, Moody and Remus Lupin. Before Lupin, however, could pass Hermione, she grabbed his arm.

“Remus … Harry, he believes that this time Voldemort is with them. That tonight, it will end … �

Lupin acknowledged this fact with a grim look upon his face, before he, too, darted outside. Hermione had just started to follow him when she heard Ron yelling. “What do you think you’re doing?� She first thought that this was directed at her, but Ron was shouting at his younger sister, Ginny, and her friend Luna Lovegood. Both had their wands in their hands, ready to join the others outside.

“This is our fight as much as it is yours,� Ginny countered. “We’re going.�

“They’re right, Ron,� Hermione said calmly. “They are also members of the Order, and you can’t stop them from going out to fight the Death Eaters.�

Grudgingly Ron relented and the four of them left the house. The Dark Mark was still dangerously looming at the horizon, but they could not see any Death Eaters yet. Ron and Hermione quickly joined Harry in the middle of the group assembled outside and the two younger girls went to the right flank. Harry smiled at his friends, though it was somewhat forced. His scar was still hurting and his nerves were ready to burst.

Shortly after, popping noises could be heard all around the place. The Order members were arriving. Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Hagrid, Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt, closely followed by Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle, Sturgis Podmore and Hestia Jones. Emmeline Vance and Mundungus Fletcher had lost their lives in former Death Eater Attacks. Behind him, he heard Molly and Lupin talk in hushed voices. No one dared move. Harry’s mind was reeling. Where was Dumbledore? What was keeping him so long?

A popping noise next to him let his head jerk around, but it was not Dumbledore. “What, Potter? Not happy to see me?� Draco Malfoy teased.

For the first time, Harry did not retort. Instead he was deadly serious. “I’m waiting for Dumbledore.�

“He will be here, soon,� Severus Snape’s voice hissed behind him. “He said he had to get something first.�

Get something first? What was Dumbledore playing at? Didn’t he know that they needed him here?

“There they are.� Hearing Ron say this, Harry immediately turned his attention back to the upcoming battle. And indeed, black masses were moving toward them. Harry tried to do a head count, but it was too dark and there were too many.

Too many. Too dark.

It suddenly seemed as if someone had switched off the stars. Even the Dark Mark was gone.

So cold.

When the air had been warm and sultry before, it now felt as if he were in the deepest of winter. Harry heard long, hoarse, rattling breaths and got a clammy feeling in his stomach. His scar was searing once again and then he heard them, the voices in his head. "Not Harry! Not Harry!! Please, not Harry!"

Dementors! They were building the front line!

Kill the spare!

Harry raised his wand, trying to think of something happy.

SIRIUS! SIRIUS!

“Expecto Patronum!� Nothing happened. Happy thoughts! Happy thoughts! He glanced to his left and noticed that his friends seemed to have similar problems with conjuring a Patronus with this mass of Dementors advancing. Tonight it will end! This is the last fight and I will kill Voldemort! Then it is finally over and we can live in peace! “EXPECTO PATRONUM!� A silver stag emitted from the tip of his wand and galloped toward the Dementors.

And sure enough, with the Dementors thrown back by Harry’s Patronus, the others were able to conjure theirs. Soon enough it was an army of Dementors versus and army of Patronuses, the silver forms being successfully able to force the Dementors into retreat.

This victory, however, was of short duration. They still had to face an army of Death Eaters and of course Voldemort himself. Harry looked around. There was still no sight of Dumbledore.

"I’m waiting," the voice in his head hissed.

“I know,� Harry answered aloud, earning incredulous glances from those standing close to him. With or without Dumbledore, they could not stall any longer. If they did not attack first, the Death Eaters would. And how went the old saying? Attack is the best means of defence. “But you won’t have to wait any longer. It’s time.� He raised his wand and shot red sparks into the air. “ATTACK!�

 

The members of the Order of Phoenix rushed forward, some stealthily, some, like Hagrid, with a loud roar.

Momentarily stunned by this bold and unexpected move, the Death Eaters hesitated. This was long enough for the Order to send stunning and disarming spells into the first rows of their enemies. Few were knocked down, most of the others managed to conjure a shield just in time, but were not able to make them strong enough to withstand a bodily attack on top of the spells.

The two parties clashed like two giant waves. Green and red sparks flew to his left and to his right. Harry saw some of the jets of red lights hitting Hagrid, but they were just bouncing off him, just as they had already done years ago, when High Inquisitor Dolores Jane Umbridge had sent Aurors to capture the half-giant. The Death Eaters trying to stun him never stood a chance. Since he was expelled from Hogwarts, Hagrid was not allowed to do any magic nor did Harry think that his friend was able to do major spells that might help them, but with his massive figure and his incredible strength, he made more than up for it. One swing with his fist and a couple of Death Eaters were lying at his feet, unconscious. Hagrid caught Harry’s gaze and winked at him, before turning his attention back to his foes.

Harry smiled at Hagrid, just before he ducked the green light of a curse, which he had more felt than seen and disarmed his attacker quickly, the wand getting lost in the chaos around them. The young man then rushed forward and, without using his wand at all, lunged a hard upper-cut at his opponents jaw, sending the wizard sprawling on the floor. Before he had the chance to get up again, Harry lazily stunned him. He was not going for the kill, not until he was facing the one person, if he could even call him that, that had made his life miserable ever since he was one year old.

He sprung around, his gaze quickly wandering over the fighting wizards and witches. I’m here … Harry turned around once again and there he saw him. Black robes fluttering around him, pale, spidery fingers holding a wand. They were not close, but Harry could swear that he could make out the slits of his nostrils and the burning red eyes.

A curse missed Harry’s hand just by inches, but he did not care. Voldemort was finally showing himself. It was time. Only one or neither of them would leave this battlefield alive.

And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives …

Eyes trained on Voldemort, he began a determined stride in his direction, while his archenemy slid past his fighting minions, now and then pushing one aside with magic, when they were blocking his way. Neither raised his wand when they finally met. They only stared at each other.

 

 After having set a now-fleeing Death Eater on fire, Hermione turned her head to do a quick head count, only making sure that the people closest to her were still up fighting, when she saw them, Harry and Lord Voldemort, walking up to each other with a determination that she had never seen before. She still could not see Dumbledore and she was sure that Harry alone never stood a chance against Voldemort, no matter how good he had become over the last years. “Ron! Malfoy!� she yelled to those fighting closest to her and Harry. “He can’t do that alone!� The two young men immediately understood what she was talking about and followed her.

  

“Voldemort,� Harry acknowledged him with a deep growl in his voice.

“Harry Potter, we finally meet again,� Voldemort’s voice was barely above a whisper, a quiet hiss, and yet Harry could understand him perfectly well. “You’ve grown since our last encounter, become more manly. But still alone as I see. Always alone. It has been like this from the very beginning. No, I remember that the first time we met, your Mudblood mother was trying to protect you. How little did she know that she was only giving you a couple of years … And tonight you will leave this plane of existence, Harry. Alone. Happy Birthday…�

“He’s not alone,� Hermione yelled, as she came to a stop just a step behind Harry, along with Ron and Draco.

“Get out of here,� Harry barked at them, but none of them moved an inch. “This is my fight!�

“I see,� The Dark Lord seemed thoughtful for the split of a second. “Miss Granger, I presume. And there is Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy. Draco, isn’t it? You would have made a formidable Death Eater, just like your father was. But allying yourself with Harry Potter and Dumbledore … A mistake … �

None of them answered, all holding their gaze with the man -– being -– that had brought so much despair over the wizarding world.

“I’m impressed. Most people would cower in fear to see me. Well, if you don’t want to leave without Harry, then I suggest you leave with him. But first, I want to see a reaction from at least one of you,� He quickly raised his wand and pointed it at Hermione. “CRUCIO!�

“Protego!� It was not more than a whisper, but a shield had appeared in front of the four young people, though none of them had a wand raised.

Voldemort eyed Harry with an amused look on his face. “Remarkable. I was told that you were able to do this, but I thought that my Death Eaters were exaggerating. It’s draining, isn’t it? Holding this shield without the strengthening core of your wand? Even I find this task exhausting and wouldn’t able to hold it much longer. It’s harder than most people think, harder than cursing someone without a wand, because now you have to concentrate a steady amount of magic into this shield, while with a curse you only have to gather the magic once and then let it explode.�

Much to his annoyance, Harry knew that Voldemort was right. He would not be able to keep the shield up any longer. His scar was hurting so much that he had the feeling his head would split any moment and sweat was trickling down his face and back. He wished he could use his wand, but he did not want to repeat what had happened on the cemetery what seemed like ages ago. He could first use his, when Voldemort had lost its brother.

Now or never!

He let the shield down and yelled, “Expell—“

But Voldemort seemed to have only waited for this moment. As soon as it was obvious that the shield was fading, he raised his wand once again and finished his spell before Harry could finish his. “Proferre Tempus!�

Something that resembled a green bubble came out of the tip of Voldemort’s wand, closing itself around Harry and his friends, before one of the four could react in any way. All of them tried to get out, using spell after spell, but they were only absorbed. Though his vision was obscured through the bubble, Harry finally saw Dumbledore, holding something seemingly heavy, but his heart dropped. Somehow he knew, it was too late. This time, Dumbledore could not save them.

They heard Voldemort’s shrill laughter through the bubble and then, with a swish of his wand, everything went quiet around them and the battlefield disappeared.

 

A/N: Hello again! I wanted to thank everyone, who has read the first two chapters until now, even though you did not leave a review. But it’s assuring to know that someone is at least reading it, so, go on, if you like the start of this fanfiction! Fourteen chapters are already written and are only waiting to be posted! I thought about updating about twice a week, but I have to warn you that the updates will be slower, once the existing chapters are finished, because I have an important examination in March and have to study for it every night, so that I will probably only be able to write on weekends.
So, I think I kept you waiting long enough with this note. Have fun with this chapter!

Chapter 3: Friend or Foe?

Harry felt as if he was flying ... no, falling was more like it. He opened his eyes and saw blurring pictures moving by at an incredible speed. Now and then it seemed to him as if he or the pictures were slowing down, for he recognized some of them. The ambush of the Death Eaters, when he had killed Lucius Malfoy. An extremely difficult test during his Auror training. The battle of Hogwarts. Sirius falling through the veil.

He went faster again. He only caught glimpses of the pictures. The maze of the Triwizard Tournament. The Goblet of Fire standing in the Great Hall. Buckbeak. Sirius as dog. Tom Riddle. Aragog. The Philosopher’s Stone. Diagon Alley.

Faster and faster it went. It was impossible to see anything except blurred colours. A flash of green light. More colours, and then everything went dark again. Harry finally hit ground.

Though his head was still spinning, he sat up warily. While doing so, his hands gripped grass and damp ground. The spinning slowly stopped and after Harry stood up, he took in his environment. It was dark and he was surrounded by trees. His head jerked up, when an owl hooted to his right, but immediately turned back, when he heard a groan coming from his left hand side. Hermione, Ron and Malfoy were slowly coming to. Harry smiled despite this situation. At least he was not alone -- wherever he was.

“Oh man, what a trip,� Ron grunted, shaking his head. “Where are we?� The other two seemed to be thinking along the same line, because they were giving Harry expectant looks, as if he knew the answer to that question.

“I don’t know … � he answered tiredly. “In some woods, I guess, but this could be nearly everywhere.�

“Bloody great! For all I know, Voldemort could be jumping at us any second now!� Ron cursed, gripping his wand tightly.

“No … � Harry suddenly said. He pondered how he had not noticed this before. Though his whole body was aching like hell and he could feel every bone, he could not feel his scar. No pain, no thumping, simply nothing. His hand flew to his forehead. But the scar was still there. He could still feel the small unevenness in his skin.

“What are you talking about, Potter?� Draco snarled. “We were just facing him, so he has to be somewhere here!�

“My scar is not hurting, not at all, so he can’t be here,� the black-haired young man explained. “I also wonder … � He stopped, not really knowing how to put the thoughts in his mind into words. Though he had experienced something similar before, the thought of it having happened again, especially through a spell, the uttering of a few words, was just too abstract.

“What, Harry?� Hermione asked.

“I mean, did you also see … normal things, when you were falling? I think they were memories or … things that happened … I saw them in reverse order, so I think …� his voice faltered again. How could he explain to his friends what he could not even explain to himself?

Draco crossed his arms over his chest. Through his torn robes, the Dark Mark was slowly fading, but remaining visible. “Are you suggesting that we travelled back in time?� he spat the last part.

“Time travel?� Ron asked, confused. “But isn’t that impossible?�

Harry, a small part of him being glad that his thoughts had been put into words by anyone but him and therefore having gained a small feeling that he might not be completely insane, and Hermione looked at each other. Both thinking of the one time they had travelled back in time, though there had been different circumstances.

“Actually,� Hermione began, “time travel is possible. But, Harry, we don’t know anything for sure. This isn’t the same as with the Time-Turner. With its help we could have only gone back in time a couple of hours, one day at the most, and we would have wound up in the same place where we used it.�

“Maybe this is the same place, only that Voldemort had found a way to send us back not just a few hours, but I don’t know how many years.� Harry kicked the grass, hating this feeling of helplessness.

“Hush,� the young woman suddenly said. “I think I heard something.�

The four of them slightly raised their wands and indeed, they could hear voices and rustling heading toward them.

“Listen,� she whispered. “If we really travelled back in time, we must not be seen. We have to hide somewhere.�

“Hey! I think I heard something! Over there!� one of the voices -- a strangely familiar voice, Harry thought -- said.

They froze. It was too late to hide. They could only hope that those unbidden guests were not putting up a fight, so that they could at least use a memory charm on them. But maybe, before they did that, they could find out where and most importantly, when they were.

“Stay close, but not too close,� Harry ordered in a hushed voice. “Lower your wands. We don’t want them to feel threatened.� The others obeyed. “Here they come.�

Four figures were coming out of the shadows and stopped. At the same moment their faces became visible, Harry’s heart missed a beat. In front of them four young men were standing. A pale one with brown hair, one with longer black hair that elegantly fell over his eyes, one with unruly black hair and a small, mousy-haired one. Moony, Prongs, Padfoot and ...

“Wormtail,� Harry hissed, as he recognized the last person of the foursome. Anger rose in him. First this man had betrayed Sirius and was responsible for his having been sent to Azkaban, where he had wasted away before he could finally flee after twelve years. Then he had helped Voldemort return to his full power and in the end, since Wormtail had been able to flee before they had been able to prove Sirius’s innocence, he was responsible for Sirius’s long imprisonment at Grimmauld Place, which was one reason for his death.

Before any of his friends could react, the anger in Harry exploded and he leapt at the small man. Harry never saw the three red jets of light coming and everything around him went black yet again.

“You!� James Potter yelled at Hermione, Ron and Draco, his wand still trained on the now unconscious Harry. “Surrender your wands and do everything we say, then your friend won’t be hurt.�

~*~

Harry did not know how much time had passed by the time he finally awoke. His first reaction, after he came to, was a searching grip for his wand, but it was gone. He did not dare to sit up; instead he took a good look at his surroundings without moving too much. He found himself lying on a more-or-less comfortable cot in a small square room. One half of the room was confined with bars -- his half. The floor and walls were made of dark stone, but the room itself was warm despite the cold environment. A gas lamp lit the room in a dim light and so he could make out the two men sitting at a table on the other side of the bars.

His heart leapt again. At first, he had thought that he had been dreaming, but now that he was seeing them again, he knew that the events in the forest had really happened. Suddenly a thought hit him and he sat up abruptly. Where were Hermione, Ron and Draco? He was alone in this room, so where were the others? Were they also imprisoned? Were they okay? Or … he did not even want to think about the worst-case scenario. And he did not need to, because he was quickly jerked out of his thoughts.

“Finally woke up, didn’t you?� the one man, one Harry had come to love as a father, a brother and a friend, though he looked much younger and healthier now, drawled.

“Finally, Sirius?� the other man asked slightly amused. Harry had only seen this man in photographs before and a few times in the Mirror of Erised. He did not look much different from how Harry had seen him before. The same untidy black hair, the same glasses … this man was James Potter like everyone had known him. They really had gone back in time. For a moment, Harry truly tried to believe this, but it was just too unreal. It was just as it had been with the Mirror of Erised. Harry wanted it to be true, but it was most unlikely. This might as well be a trap by the Death Eaters. A trap of genius, because it must have taken a lot of magic to create those clones or whatever they were. “You may not forget that he was hit by three Stunning Spells. And he was only out for a couple of hours. Others might take days, if not weeks to recover. This one’s tough.�

“Whatever,� Sirius muttered as he rose from the chair. “I’ll go get Dumbledore. You can play watchdog until we’re back.�

James smirked at his friend. “I always thought you’d be more suited as watchdog than I.�

“Funny,� Sirius countered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and went up the stairs Harry had not noticed before in the room, and went through a wooden door at the top.

Harry had watched this whole exchange with an unexplainable fascination. If they were actors, they were doing a good job. Over the years and especially after his trip into Snape’s memories, Harry had gathered enough information about his parents and their friends to have a rather fine picture of them in his mind. He was still staring at the now-closed door when he felt a pair of eyes on him. He turned his head to his father –-No, not my father. An impostor, Harry tried to tell himself -– and their eyes locked.

“What about the people who were with me?� he finally managed to ask. He did not dare to say friends, in case those who were holding them captive did not know of their friendship -- a truly unlikely thing if they were Death Eaters -- but it never hurt to be careful. He did not want Hermione, Ron and even Malfoy to be hurt.

“They’re upstairs. I said we should have sent you and them straight to Azkaban, especially the one with the Dark Mark. But Dumbledore told us not to. He said there is something about you, something he could not put his finger on. He wanted to interrogate all of you before he decides what to do with you. I swear, there are times when I don’t understand him, but I trust him and when I look at you closer, I must say, you look familiar to me,� James informed him. “What’s your name?�

“That’s none of your business,� Harry told him as calmly as possible. If he had learned one important thing in his Auror training, it was control of his temper.

“None of my business?� the other asked. “May I remind you who of us is … �

“That’s enough, James,� Dumbledore’s calm voice interrupted him. He walked down the stairs and stopped in front of the bars, giving the sitting Harry a good once-over. “Interesting,� he mumbled, before he turned his attention back to the other young man. “James, Poppy informed me to get you. Your wife is waiting.�

Harry could swear that James’ eyes widened, before he quickly climbed the stairs and closed the door behind him. When James was gone, Harry turned his head again to the man that claimed to be Albus Dumbledore. Like James and Sirius, Dumbledore also looked younger, though just slightly. He was wearing midnight blue robes and a pointed hat in the same colour. Simple and useful, but elegant. Half-moon glasses were settled on his nose and his eyes held the same twinkle Harry had known ever since he had first met the Headmaster.

None of them spoke at first, both staring at each other in silence. Suddenly Harry felt the familiar feeling of someone probing in his mind. He looked Dumbledore sharp in the eyes and banned him from his mind, accompanied by the calm words “Get out,� spoken in his thoughts.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled even more and his lip curled up into a small smile. “Interesting indeed.� He conjured a stuffy red armchair in front of the bars and sat down in it, but not before also conjuring one behind the bars.

Harry eyed both him and the armchair suspiciously before slowly getting up from the cot and warily sitting down in the chair. But while Dumbledore was sitting comfortably, Harry chose to sit straight. All of his senses were on full alert, as he contemplated on how to get out. The aura of magic in this room came only from Dumbledore – Really good, Harry silently congratulated him. Even the auras were the same -- that meant the bars were not charmed. He could easily open the door without his wand, as well as getting past some of the guards, but there was still the fact that he did not know what had happened to his friends.

“Do not worry,� Dumbledore suddenly said, as if reading his thoughts, though this time Harry was sure that he had stayed out of his mind. “Your friends are all well. We did not hurt them, though I must admit that Peter, whom you obviously seem to know as the others told me, had really wanted to, when they wouldn’t talk. None of them had shown fear. I got the impression that they would have died for you if it was necessary. And this not because they are scared of you, no, they care for you. You must be a true and loyal friend to them, if they were ready to go through hell with you and they must truly think highly of you. This is also the reason why you’re secluded. We assume that you might be their leader and therefore we thought it might be possible
to talk to you.

“As I am sure you know, the alliance with Voldemort is sentenced with a lifelong presence at Azkaban.� Harry could only stare. No one except the real Dumbledore and a few members of the Order dared to speak the name. He was sure that not even a Death Eater threatened to do it by the Dark Lord himself would be able to speak this name without fear or at least the slightest stutter in his voice. Harry’s resolve that the people, people of his past and present, were impostors, slowly faded. Instead the crazy theory that they indeed had travelled back in time returned again. “Now, the evidences are speaking for this alliance. One of your friends bears the Dark Mark … �

“He’s not a Death Eater,� Harry heard himself saying.

“So, is he not … � Dumbledore mused. “What do I have except your word that this is true?�

“What do I have except your word that you are truly Albus Dumbledore?� Harry argued.

“That’s true, that’s true … I have to admit, I don’t like using Veritaserum, and I doubt that you’d be drinking anything I’d offer, so I think our words are the only thing we have.�

“So, you believe me?� Harry asked rather astonished.He’s lying, he’s lying, a voice spoke up in the back of his mind, but somehow, deep down, Harry started to feel that this man was truly Dumbledore. He only needed the final proof.

“The question is not do I believe you, but, do I trust you … and I think you know the answer to that question … �

“How should I know?�

Silence fell yet again, as Dumbledore left the question unanswered. Harry lowered his head and pondered over the question. Why would this Dumbledore trust him? He had appeared in the middle of nowhere, out in the woods, looking battered and worn down and one of them was bearing the Dark Mark, the symbol of Voldemort. His friends were upstairs and they had not uttered a word. Not one single word.

I got the impression that they would have died for you if it was necessary. And this not because they are scared of you, no, they care for you. You must be a true and loyal friend to them, if they were ready to go through hell with you…

They were friends and they cared for each other. Death Eaters did not care for anyone but themselves. They would die for Voldemort not out of loyalty, but out of fear. Dumbledore knew that they were not like Voldemort’s followers, not in the least. That was the reason why this Dumbledore trusted him.

Harry looked up and met the expectant gaze of the old man. “I see,� Dumbledore said with a smile on his lips. “You know why I trust you. But I think I will leave you for now, so that you can decide if I’m worthy of your trust.�

With a quiet “Evanesco� Dumbledore’s armchair vanished, but Harry’s remained. Dumbledore looked at the young man one last tim, before he climbed the stairs. He had just touched the handle, when Harry began to speak.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … born to those who thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other … �

“For neither can live while the other survives … The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies … � Dumbledore finished quietly, before he turned back to the now standing young man behind the bars. “How do you know about this prophecy? It was only spoken a couple of weeks ago and I was the only one present except of one eavesdropper, but he only knows the beginning of it.�

“This is not the only thing I know,� Harry answered, now finally starting to trust Dumbledore. It was simply impossible that an impostor would know the exact wording of the prophecy. So he told him what he knew, though he had Hermione’s scolding voice in the back of his mind. “A boy was born in the last week, isn’t it so? The son of Frank and Alice Longbottom? They called him Neville … But he is not the one the prophecy was about, as you will find out in a bit more than a year. The prophecy is about the boy who was born today, only about a half-hour ago, I think. He’s the son of Lilly and James Potter, and they named their son Harry.�

Harry could feel Dumbledore’s slightly bemused eyes on him, but he continued nevertheless. “From Halloween on, one year from now, he will be known as the Boy Who Lived, because he survived Voldemort’s Avada Kedavra. The spell rebounded, but did not kill Voldemort. He managed to flee, but was only a shadow of his former self. Without a body and without power he waited ten years until he first attempted to regain his power, but it took him three more years to finally succeed. However, when he fled after having been stripped from his power, he left the boy, completely unharmed except of a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.� Harry lifted his bangs. “This scar.�

“So you are Harry Potter and from the future I guess … that explains a lot, of course,� Dumbledore mused, chuckling quietly. “May I ask how you managed to travel so many years back in time? How many, by the way?�

“Twenty-one years. It was my twenty-first birthday when Voldemort and his Death Eaters attacked. He used a spell on my friends and me. I don’t quite remember it, but to discuss the exact methods of time travel it would be best if you talk to Hermione … � Harry answered, also smiling.

“This Hermione is one of your friends, right?� Harry nodded. “Well then, I think we better go and ask her.� Dumbledore pulled his wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at the door. “Aloho-“ He did not need to finish his spell, because the door sprung open after Harry had given a quick wave with his hand. Dumbelore eyed him curiously. “As I already said, Mr. Potter, you are truly an interesting young man.�

A/N: Yeah, I got two reviews! Thanks NotreDameGeo und Get_The_Snitch! I’m glad you like this fanfiction!!!

Chapter 4: Reunion

Harry started to become nervous, as he climbed the stairs behind Dumbledore. Who would he meet, once he stepped through the door? He was sure that these were the headquarters of the Order of Phoenix, wherever they were located. This was not Grimmauld Place 12, Harry would have recognized that place immediately and besides, if his memory was not failing him, then Mrs. Black would still be alive in this time. He would have to ask Dumbledore later, after he had made sure that his friends were safe and sound.

Dumbledore opened the door and, after having taken a deep breath, Harry followed him outside. His eyes squinted against the harsh light that was greeting him and it took him a few seconds to adjust to the changes. It looked like they were in a kitchen. The room was rather small, with a kitchenette at one wall, some shelves at another and a rectangular wooden table in the middle. Through a window that was placed above a worktop, he could see that the sun was slowly rising. He quickly calculated the time that must have passed between the attack and now. It must have been about five to six hours.

“Dumbledore, what’s he doing here?�

Harry turned to the source of the voice and recognized it as Sirius’. The younger version of his godfather was glaring daggers at him. The other few occupants of the room also stared at him, though not with as much enmity as Sirius did. Harry’s mind was running wild. He knew those people from the picture Moody had shown him, when he had first arrived at Grimmauld place before his fifth year. He identified them as Frank Longbottom, who, in Harry’s time, had been driven insane by Bellatrix Lestrange, Sturgis Podmore, and Edgar Bones, who Harry also had never gotten to know.

“This young man and his friends,� Dumbledore told them, “have unfortunately appeared in the woods near the Burrow at a rather inopportune moment and have therefore been drawn into something they would have rather stayed out of.�

“But one of them bears the Dark Mark,� Sirius interjected, “and we’ve only been able to catch them, because there was a Death Eater attack planned on the Weasleys last night and we only found them. This one,� he pointed at Harry, “attacked Peter without a reason.�

“Sirius, trust me. I was assured that the young man bearing the Dark Mark is no Death Eater, at least not anymore,� he added, with a light twinkle in his eyes directed at Harry. “I have reason to believe in their innocence and therefore I will invite them to stay either here or at Hogwarts as long as they wish as, let’s say, reparation for what they’ve been put through.�

“But,� the black haired man tried to argue again. He was, however, interrupted by Dumbledore.

“No more of it.� His voice was firm enough to tell Sirius that the headmaster would not allow any more arguing in that matter, but was still soft, making it clear that he was not angry but understood the situation. “By the way, do you have word from James already? Poppy just told me that a child was born, but deprived me of any more information. I believe James asked you to be the child’s godfather.�

Suddenly the glare on Sirius’ face was replaced by a look full of pride and astonishment. “Yes, he did and we just talked through the fireplace a couple of minutes ago. He and Lily are proud parents of a small boy. They called him Harry.�

“I see,� Dumbledore smiled through his long beard. “Congratulations are in order then. I hope that I will soon be able to see the small boy, but first I have business to attend to. Frank, could you please fetch the wands of our visitors?�

The lanky man, who was the exact opposite of his wife, quickly nodded and left the room, only to return half a minute later with four wands. “Here you are, Albus. I was going to check this one with Ollivander this morning, because it seemed quite extraordinary.� He lifted an eleven inches long, brown wand. “This one has a phoenix feather as core and if I’m correct…�

“I don’t think that would be necessary anymore,� Dumbledore interrupted him, using the same voice he had already used on Sirius earlier and took the wands. He gave them to Harry, who accepted them gratefully and said, “Well then, I think we should not let your friends wait any longer. Please follow me.�

Harry obeyed Dumbledore and followed him through another door which led into a hallway and then up a flight of stairs. Now that he again held his wand in his hand, he felt a lot more secure. Even though he knew how to do magic without his wand, it was still a source of confidence and he would have regretted it deeply, if it had been broken or lost. The encounter with Sirius had left him a bit downhearted, but he could understand his intentions. Harry would have probably reacted the same way, if one of his friends had been attacked by some unknown and mysterious person and Sirius did not know yet that Wormtail was a traitor. The only question in Harry’s mind concerning this was, if Peter was already a Death Eater or would still become one in the following year.

He knew that he had acted on the anger he was feeling towards Wormtail and he also knew that he could not risk to expose more than he already had. As much as he wanted to take care of Wormtail before he could betray his parents and therefore save their lives, he could not do it. At least not until they had made sure what kind of influence they would have on the future events.

Harry had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he did not notice Dumbledore halt in front of a door and almost ran into him. He suddenly began to grow nervous again. What if someone had hurt his friends, despite what he had been told? How would he react in that kind of situation? But suddenly a much worse thought hit him: What would Hermione do to him, when he told her what he had told Dumbledore? He could clearly remember the warning she had given first when they had used the Time Turner in their third year and again shortly before the Marauders had found them: Keep out of sight! but it was too late now. They had been seen, caught and the only way to get out of this alive and unscathed had been telling the person they trusted the most about what had happened.

Dumbledore quickly knocked twice at the door and then opened it. Harry followed him inside, his nerves being ready to burst. The room where they were now in resembled a study. There were bookshelves on the walls and Harry thought that Hermione might be more than happy to snoop through some of them. Right next to the door, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were sitting at a table and in the middle of the room Hermione, Ron and Draco were bound to three chairs. Their eyes widened considerably as they spotted Harry behind Dumbledore, looking despite the scratches and torn clothes he had received during their earlier fight against the Death Eaters unharmed.

“Professor, what is going on?� Lupin inquired, when he, too, spotted their fourth captive.

Harry clenched his fists, when he saw Wormtail practically hiding behind Lupin and he despised him even more than before. Sure, he had known before that Peter Pettigrew was more a tag-along, but that he was nearly wetting his pants, when he was in the room with the one who had attacked him earlier that night, though Lupin and Dumbledore were present as well, was simply pathetic. He could not believe that such a person would be able to fake his own death to send one of his formerly best friends to Azkaban. Yet, Harry himself had experienced the results of Wormtail’s treachery and came to the conclusion that only incredible fear of someone could cause such drastic measures.

“For now, let’s just say that I was convinced that those young persons were only at the wrong place at the wrong time and had nothing to do with the planned attack on the Weasleys.�

Harry saw Ron’s eyes widen even more, when Dumbledore mentioned the planned attack, but he remained silent.

“So y-you want to s-say that they are innocent?� Wormtail asked quivering. “But he attacked me and this one has the mark of You Know Who.�

“I’m sure there are explanations for everything, but yes, I do believe in their innocence. So, would you be so nice to untie them and please leave the room? I want to give them some privacy to discuss what has happened.�

Lupin and Pettigrew obeyed, though the latter more grudgingly and loosened the ties. The three friends rubbed their wrists, but still did not say anything. The two Marauders left the room and Dumbledore was bound to follow them, but he turned around before he closed the door. “Mr. Potter, I will make sure that some breakfast is prepared for the four of you when you decide you want to eat. After that I would like to speak to all of you privately about the matter we discussed earlier, Mr. Potter.�

After the headmaster had closed the door behind him and Harry had placed a silencing charm on the room so that no one could hear what they were talking about, Hermione rushed at Harry, almost crushing him in the hug. “Oh Harry! You’re so stupid! We were worried sick!�

“Hermione…� he gasped, though with humor in his voice. “Need air.�

She quickly let go of him and mumbled, “Sorry.�

“Hermione’s right,� Ron said. “Where have you been? They didn’t want to tell us anything. Well, it seemed like Remus wanted to, but Wormtail kept him from saying anything. By the way, I do believe you now that we are in the past.�

“They kept me downstairs in the cellar,� Harry told them, while he was sitting down in one of the chairs. “They thought that I was the leader of our little group,� he pointedly ignored the snort Draco gave him, “and Dumbledore decided that he would interrogate me alone. I only woke up a bit more than half an hour ago, I think and Dumbledore came immediately to talk to me.�

“What did you tell him?� Hermione wanted to know. Her voice already showed the accusing tone she usually used when she did not approve of something the three young men did. “Dumbledore called you Mr. Potter, so don’t tell me that—“

“I told him,� Harry answered her simply. “And I’m sorry about it, as much as I am sorry about attacking Wormtail. I know this is no excuse, but the anger at him suddenly overcame me and I didn’t know what I was doing anymore until the three Stunners hit me. And I had to tell Dumbledore, otherwise he would have never believed me.�

“Right,� Draco drawled, “Dumbledore believed you this story about us travelling to the past instead of some simpler story that you could have come up with? I highly doubt that.�

Harry sighed deeply. He knew that this would not be easy to convince them. “I told him something, something only the two of us know, that’s how I made sure that he was the real Dumbledore and not some impostor. He had even started to trust me before that, because you guys have shown great loyalty to me, but to believe me that we come from the future, I think he had to hear what I said.�

“What was it? I mean, what you said to him, the thing only you two know about…� Ron asked.

“Nothing, really.� Harry shook his head. He still did not plan to tell his friends about the prophecy anytime soon. He could just imagine their reaction to this, even after all the years and all the fights. Draco simply would not believe it, Ron would pale and ask him, if he was kidding and Hermione, well, she would most likely consult her books and come up with some theories to disprove the prophecy – they all knew how she thought about divination.

He looked up and saw in his friends’ faces that they did not believe him, but they did not pry further. Instead, Hermione asked, “And what was the matter you two discussed that he wanted to talk about later?�

“Time travel. I told him that the right person to speak to about it would be you. But don’t worry, I didn’t tell him anything about you, none of you. I did not even tell him about the fate of my parents, only that Voldemort attacked, left me with this scar and was able to flee. I thought that it should be up to you how much you want him to know,� he quickly reassured them. He was getting slowly tired of this. His body was aching, something he had not noticed before, probably due to the adrenalin that had been pumping through his veins, but now, that he had the chance to calm down, he could feel the wounds he had received during the battle. He was getting hungry and he felt completely drained. Even his scar started again tingling slightly, but he put it off as unimportant. It had the tendency to tingle, when he was feeling utterly exhausted. Fact was that he did not want to talk about himself anymore, so he quickly changed the topic. “So, but how about you? What has happened after I was out?�

So his friends took turns in telling him what had happened. After the Stunning Spells had hit Harry, the three of them had surrendered their wands as James had ordered, because they did not want Harry to be hurt. Then their hands had been bound behind their backs with magically strengthened ropes and they had been led out of the woods to a field, where some other wizards had already been waiting, while Sirius had carried Harry over his shoulder. The three of them had immediately recognized one of the persons on the field. It had been Ron’s father, Arthur Weasley. He had asked if the four young men had caught the attackers and instead of answering, Ron, Hermione and Draco had been pushed forth. Mr. Weasley had given them a good once-over, hesitating slightly, when his gaze had landed on Ron, but shaking his head, telling the Marauders and the other two present members of the Order to follow him. He had offered them to use his fireplace to floo back to the headquarters, since they could not apparate with their captives. James had seemed ready to decline, but Lupin had pointed out that this was their only option to return.

After a short walk, they had arrived at the Burrow. A couple of more people had been waiting outside. A plump woman, who had held a small red headed baby boy in her arms. It had been a younger version of Molly Weasley and the baby seemed to be Ron. Two other toddlers with red hair had been wildly running around her, chasing each other, one small boy hid behind his mother and yet two other boys, also with red hair, had been standing calmly next to their mother, staring expectantly at their visitors.

“Is that them?� she had asked, cradling the baby even closer, when she had seen the three strangers and the one stranger slung over Sirius’s shoulder.

“Yes, Molly,� Lupin had told her comfortingly. “Don’t worry, they won’t be able to harm anyone anymore. Arthur offered to use your fireplace to return to the headquarters.�

“Of course,� she had said, smiling gently, but her face had still been deprived of its natural colour. “You know the way, but excuse me, when I stay outside until you’re gone. But thank you.� She had glanced at her children and Lupin had understood.

“We have to thank you. You should know that we would never let anyone harm you, Arthur or any of your sons.� Lupin had stayed with Mrs. Weasley, while his comrades had led their captives inside and pulled them into the green flames of the floo network.

“Thank you, again.� Mr. Weasley had put a hand on the young man’s shoulder, when he had been the only one left, and had squeezed it gently. “You know that, if my situation were different, I would join you…�

Lupin had only smiled at him. “Don’t you worry. Dumbledore said it before and I say it again: Your family is more important than anything else. You would only be in more danger, if you were a member of the Order, and you have to think about Molly, Charlie, Bill, Fred, George, Percy and of course little Ron. They should be your first priority.�

“I know, but it’s just so hard doing nothing,� Mr. Weasley sighed.

“I know…� A short silence fell over the room, before Lupin eventually walked over to the fireplace himself. “See you later.�

“Do you have any idea how strange it is to suddenly see your whole family and yourself, only that you are a baby?� Ron asked Harry, still being somewhat excited about what had happened.

“Yes, I know,� Harry answered with a sad look upon his face.

“Oh sorry, Harry… I didn’t think…� Ron stammered quickly.

“A Weasley thinking? I’d never thought I’d see that happen.�

“Shut up, Malfoy!� Ron growled, but Harry put a comforting hand on his friends’ shoulder and smiled at him.

“Don’t worry, Ron. I don’t know, I feel kind of happy that I had the chance to meet them, even if I always dreamt that the situation would be different.� He let go of his friend’s shoulder and looked at the others. “So, what do you think? I’m getting kind of hungry and I also think that we should talk to Dumbledore as soon as possible. Maybe he knows a way to bring us back.�

A/N: Well, I think that this story is slowly getting popular… Three more reviews, thank you very much!

Chapter 5: Talking Time

Harry led his friends back the way that Dumbledore had shown him to where Ron, Hermione and Draco had been kept. Fortunately the place was not that big, because Harry had a hard time remembering the exact turns, since he had been deep in thoughts on his way upstairs. He almost sighed with relief, as they arrived in the kitchen. He had almost expected to appear in some storeroom or something like that, which would have earned him at least a snide comment from Malfoy.

Much to Harry’s surprise, the only person present in the kitchen was Albus Dumbledore. Hermione, Ron and Draco stopped behind him, taking in their surroundings warily. He could understand his friends – he himself did not feel comfortable at all. The strange surroundings, unfamiliar familiar faces and most of all the fact that they had really gone back in time sinking in was enough reason to feel on edge. Suddenly he heard Draco wincing sharply and noticed the probing look Dumbledore had given the blond auror. The next thing Harry knew was that Draco had pulled out his wand and directed it at Dumbledore. The black-haired young man quickly pushed Draco’s arm down and glared at him sharply.

“What do you think you’re doing?� he hissed.

“He tried to get into my head!� Draco retorted. He did not take his eyes from the Headmaster and his arm was still tense. Harry recoiled slightly, knowing fully well what Draco was talking about, since he had been on the end of Dumbledore’s prying mind earlier that day and also understanding that the old wizard must have taken a look into his other friends’ minds as well.

“’Tried’ being the keyword,� Dumbledore said calmly. “I did not expect that not just one, but two of you are trained that exceptionally well in Occlumency.�

Now it was Ron that Harry felt tense remarkably. “You were snooping around in our heads?�

“Ron!� Harry warned. He knew that they were all tired and exhausted, and so far the only one who had not snapped at anyone was Hermione. They needed to keep cool in this situation, since fighting with each other would not help them improving their current predicaments.

“Sorry,� the redhead muttered.

“You don’t need to be sorry for your reaction,� the Headmaster assured him. “I understand your reasons as I hope you do understand mine.�

“You needed to do this to confirm what Harry told you. You trusted him before, but the others asked you to do this to make sure that we mean no harm.� It was the first time since they entered the kitchen that Hermione said something and it made sense to the others.

“Indeed, Miss— Hermione, wasn’t it?� The young woman nodded tiredly. “Well then, why don’t you sit down, eat something and then we can discuss the concepts of time travel.�

Harry watched somewhat amused how Hermione’s eyes lit up by the mentioning of time travel and Ron’s by the mentioning of food. Some things never changed, it seemed. When he noticed, however, that his friends were still a bit hesitant to sit down, he did the first step and pulled out a chair for himself. Slightly more encouraged by his example, they followed suit and soon they were seated around the rectangular table. As soon as Draco had sat down as last one, dishes appeared in front of them and with a plop a house-elf materialized next to them, holding a plate with a huge stack of sandwiches in its one hand and a teapot in the other. It looked like any other house-elf with the large ears and the huge eyes, dressed in a pillowcase. Its appearance earned Dumbledore an angry look by Hermione, who still did fully intend to continue with S.P.E.W. (Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare) as soon as the nightmare with Voldemort was over.

“Milly is bringing Professor Dumbledore and Professor Dumbledore’s guests the sandwiches and tea just like he asked Milly to do, Sir,� the elf squeaked, as she put the plate and pot on the table.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at the elf. “Thank you, Milly. You may now retire to your quarters.�

“Thank you, Sir, you are too kind to Milly!� The house-elf snapped her fingers and disappeared, leaving the five of them again alone.

“What are you waiting for? I assure you, Milly’s sandwiches are only topped by the ones of a dear friend and former pupil of mine.� He said this while giving Ron a side-glance, which the young man, however, did not notice, because after having gotten the permission to eat, his full devotion had gone to the sandwiches. The other three friends shrugged at each other and each took one of the sandwiches.

When Dumbledore thought that the first hunger of the young people was sated, he guessed that it was time to talk. “I do not mean to bother you, you may continue to eat, but I believe there are some things which we have to discuss. Young Mister Potter has already told me a bit, including some rather fascinating and interesting revelations, but he left out your identities,� he addressed Ron, Hermione and Draco. “I could be guessing, but I think it would be a lot easier for all of us if you just told me at least your names and probable relations to people I know in this time, so that we can maybe avoid confrontations.�

The three of them exchanged uncertain looks and also glanced at Harry, who gave them an encouraging nod, saying, “We don’t have anything to lose. He already knows about me, so what harm is done, if he knew about you as well?�

Hermione smiled at him and started. “My name is Hermione Granger and I’m a Muggle born witch, so I don’t think you know any relatives of me.�

“Indeed, I don’t. Miss Granger, Mr. Potter told me that it would be you I should talk about time travel, so I guess that you are quite knowledgeable.� Hermione fought a blush that was creeping up her cheeks and nodded slightly. Dumbledore then turned to Ron, who was seated next to her. “You are a Weasley, I take it?�

“Yes, I’m Ron- I mean, Ronald Weasley, but everyone just calls me Ron,� the young man told him. “I’m not as smart as Hermione, but I think I’m a pretty good strategist.� Harry and Hermione could not help but snort something that sounded much like “Understatement of the century� and Ron glared at them.

“And you play Quidditch,� Dumbledore added, referring to the orange robes he was still wearing. Ron mumbled something like “yeah� before the Headmaster finally addressed the last one of the three. “You are not in any way related to Lucius Malfoy, are you?�

Draco growled under his breath. “He was my father. The name’s Draco Malfoy.� He broke the eye contact to Dumbledore and turned his interest back to the half-eaten sandwich on his plate to make it clear that he would not tell more about himself.

Dumbledore, however, was not affronted by this action and instead gave the group once again a good look-over. He had been right with his earlier assumptions, this group was truly interesting. Harry Potter, prophecy-child and only survivor of the killing curse; Hermione Granger, a Muggle born witch with an seemingly infinite mind; Ron Weasley, loyal friend and great strategist; and Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater with an apparently troubled past – four different persons with four completely different characters, each of them filling out what the others don’t have. But they had one thing in common – their eyes betrayed that they had all seen too much in their young years, too much suffering, too much death. Dumbledore shook his head inwardly. Now was not the time for this. He needed to know what brought them back in time in the first place so that he could find a way to bring them back. He knew of the dangers of time travel, of the dire consequences that could occur once something was changed.

“Good, now that we are done with the introductions I say we should move on to more pressing matters. Miss Granger, would you like to enlighten us what exactly happened, which spell Voldemort used and so on?�

Hermione nodded and then proceeded to tell him everything without revealing anything that might disrupt the timeline any more than their appearance already did. She told him about the attack at the Burrow and about how Harry had faced Voldemort alone. She continued by telling the Headmaster how they had joined their friend and at last about the spell Voldemort had cast on them and they had come to in the woods. When Hermione had mentioned the spell “Proferre Tempus�, Dumbledore had raised an eyebrow, but had not interrupted the young woman.

Harry had started to feel drowsier with any minute that passed. The aching in his body had gotten worse and though the hunger was gone, he was still completely and utterly exhausted. Ron also looked like his head might hit the table any minute now and Draco had taken sudden interest in a fly that was zooming through the kitchen. Harry rubbed his forehead. He did not want to worry his friends and Dumbledore, but the tingling he had felt earlier in his scar had turned into a splitting headache, making it hard to concentrate on anything.

“You okay, Harry?� he suddenly heard Hermione asking. He had not even noticed that she was finished with her tale, and looked up startled.

“It’s… nothing…� he answered quickly. He’s angry, Harry thought. He’s angry that the attack on the Weasley’s failed. “I think we could all use some rest before we continue. I don’t think we’re of much help this way.�

“Of course,� Dumbledore said. “You must forgive an old man. I forgot that you have all been through a battle before you arrived here and then with the stress put on you after your arrival, it’s no wonder that you are exhausted. We will adjourn this conversation until you are well rested. Unfortunately, I have not enough room for you in this house, so I would suppose that you come to Hogwarts with me. While you were still upstairs, I have seen to that quarters for you were prepared in which you are allowed to stay as long as you wish.�

“Thank you, Professor,� Harry said. “We really appreciate that.�

Professor Dumbledore smiled at them and transformed the teapot into a portkey. When all of them had a grip on it, he counted down from three and Harry felt the familiar jerk behind his navel. He barely managed to stand, when they appeared in a circular room. Though it was a warm morning – the sun was already fully up – a fire was burning in the fireplace. In the middle of the room were a round dark wooden table, four stuffed armchairs and a couch, all held in red, much to Draco’s dismay. There was a large window with view of the Quidditch field, four doors and a hole, which would lead outside through a portrait in the walls.

“I do hope that this provides all the privacy you require. The four doors each lead to a separate room with an adjoining bathroom for each of you. Those rooms are your private chambers and you can change them to your liking,� Dumbledore explained, casting a small glance at Draco, who was still looking at his surroundings with a small amount of distaste.

“This is magnificent,� Hermione mumbled. Not even during her time as Head Girl had she had so much luxury. At least now she did not have to share a bathroom with Malfoy like she had to in seventh year. She only remembered all too well how she had walked into him as he had just gotten out of the shower, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. She had not been able to look at him for a week without having to blush. He himself had only used this chance to taunt her even more than before.

“I’m glad that you are satisfied with your quarters, but now I will retreat and leave you some time to rest. Just come to my office, when you think you are ready to continue our conversation. I’ll be waiting for you.� Giving them one last reassuring smile, the Headmaster turned to leave through the portrait. “Before I forget - the password to your quarters is Future’s past. If you want to change it, just tap the portrait twice with your wand and tell it the new password.� He pulled the portrait aside and stepped out of the room, leaving the four of them alone.

“Well then… Goodnight…� Harry said curtly and disappeared behind the first door. The room behind the door was rather large with a Gryffindor-coloured four-poster bed at the wall in the middle of the room. A desk stood next to the bed and in front of the window, so that he had a perfect view of the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid’s hut. On the other side of the bed was a large cupboard and in the other wall a door, which led to the bathroom. But Harry was too tired to check this out and just lay down on the bed, after he had pulled off his boots, taken off his cloak and closed the curtains around his bed. He was asleep as soon as his head had hit the pillow.

~*~

Back in the common room, Ron was staring at the door, having a confused look on his face. “What was this about?�

“When you don’t know, you’re really as thick as I always thought you were, Weasley,� Draco snarled. “Whatever. I could also use some sleep. See ya later.� With that, he went through the fourth door.

“Hermione, please don’t tell me, you also know what’s going on…�

Hermione sighed. “Really, Ron. Don’t you see? First the battle against Voldemort, and I think that Harry really thought it would finally end that night, then the spell, seeing Sirius again and most of all, meeting for the first time in his life his father and the reaction both of them had and then the whole prospect of probably never being able to get back and finish what he had started. I think he’s just completely physically and emotionally drained and needs some time to recover.� She barely suppressed a yawn. “We should follow his and Draco’s example and get some sleep. We have no idea how exhausting the following days, weeks or even months could become. Goodnight, Ron.�

Slightly taking aback by what Hermione had said, he just watched her disappear behind the third door, leaving the second bedroom for him. How come he had not understood that before, when it was all so clear? Maybe he was still just too confused about this whole thing, after all, Harry had not been the only one who had seen members of his family. Ron still felt his heart sink, when he remembered the look his mother had given him. She had looked at him as if he were just some filth who had wanted to hurt her and her family. But when he thought about this more, he could sympathize with her. She did not know that he was her son and there had been an attack planned on them. But the same applied for the Marauders and their reaction to Harry. Shaking his head, he crossed the room and went through the door to the last free bedroom. He was too exhausted to have any more complicated and coherent thoughts. Maybe everything would become clearer, when they all had enough sleep.

A/N: Thanks a lot for the reviews! You have no idea how much that means to me that someone reads and appreciates my writing!

Chapter 6: Job Offer

When Harry awoke, he felt slightly disoriented. For one short moment he had the feeling as if he were in the Gryffindor dorm, but then realized that, yes, he was at Hogwarts, but no, he was not in the dorm of the Gryffindor Tower. As a matter of fact, he did not even know which part of the castle their chambers were in.

Suddenly wide-awake, he pulled the curtains open and left the bed. When he stretched, he noticed that he was still wearing his torn clothes from the day before. He sniffed the air and grimaced, thinking that a shower would not be the worst idea, and went through the door that led to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, when Harry emerged from the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist, he felt completely refreshed and ready for everything the world, or rather, this time, might throw at him. Disgustedly, he threw his destroyed robes over the chair in his room and then noticed new clothes and black robes on his now made bed. He shook his head smiling. He would never tell Hermione how much he missed the service of the House Elves in his life after Hogwarts.

After having changed into the clean clothes, he left his bedroom, hoping to find his friends already waiting for him. When he stepped into the common room however, he found it completely deserted. So, either his friends were still sleeping or already gone. Harry doubted the latter, so he assumed that they must have been even more exhausted than he had been and were still happily snoring away.

But he had not the patience to wait. Waiting would result in thinking and thinking would result in having dark thoughts that he would rather not have. He needed to do something, something to keep his mind off things like that, something like… His gaze had wandered out of the window and stopped on the Quidditch field.

Harry felt the wind rush past his face and he could not help but smile brightly, as he soared up and down on the borrowed broomstick. It was just an old school broom, really old in his opinion, because his own Firebolt, which he still held dear, even though there were already much better broomsticks on the market, would not be invented for another thirteen years or so. He did not even know the brand of the broomstick he was now using, but it was better than nothing. It had been a really long time since he last had the chance to fly for fun. Flying at neck breaking speed and performing incredible stunts had always helped him to relax. He would just forget everything around him and enjoy this feeling of freedom.

~*~

James Potter was sitting at his wife’s side in the hospital wing, looking down at her sleeping form and the sleeping baby in the small crib next to her bed. He still could not believe it. He was a father. He had a son. Those last nine months he had been looking forward to this moment and now that the baby was really born… It was beautiful – his son was beautiful. The small feet, the small hands, the unruly mass of black locks on his head that were so much like his own and the green eyes that he had inherited from Lily. He could not wait to see his son make his first steps, hear him say his first words, see his reaction when he receives his first Hogwarts letter and see how his son grows to become a man.

James only hoped that this would happen in a world, where they would not have to fear a Death Eater attack any moment. He wanted his son to grow up in a world free of Death Eaters and free of Voldemort and he would do anything to make this work.

After wiping a strand of red hair from his wife’s face, he got up and walked over to the windows. Ever since he had spent his first night in the hospital wing – which had been a quite reoccurring event, due to several accidents during Quidditch matches and training and also other accidents – he had grown to love the view he had. He had always tried to choose a bed at a window, so that he could have a clear view over the Quidditch field. He had loved to watch other teams train and had used this chance to analyze their moves for the coming matches. This was the reason why most of those strange accidents happened that had put him there, this and the fact that he would not need to go to classes.

But this was the past and as much as he wished that things would still be as easy as they had been there, he could not go back. Going back in time and making some things different or better, or maybe just reliving the best moments, was only wishful thinking. The Time Turner could only be used to go back a couple of hours and it was also illegal to use this to change the past. His main concern at the moment were those four strangers. He did not believe that they were innocent and he could not understand how Dumbledore could assume this. They were hiding something and he, James Potter, would find out what it was!

The sun was already setting and James slowly started to feel more and more tired. He had just nodded off now and then at his wife’s side, but other than that, he had not slept for more than thirty hours. So he first thought that his eyes were betraying him, when he saw the black blur zooming back and forth, up and down on the Quidditch field.

He rubbed his eyes and readjusted his glasses, before he took another look. There was indeed someone out flying, but who would be here at Hogwarts at this time of the year? Sirius had told him a couple of hours ago that Dumbledore had offered the strangers to stay at Hogwarts as long as they wished to, but could it really be one of them? He squinted against the upcoming darkness and focused on the figure on the broom. He could make out the long black hair their leader was sporting and scowled. What was he doing out there? Who had given him this broom?

James turned around sharply and left the hospital wing in a hurry. It was time for answers!

~*~

Harry did not know how much time had passed since he had mounted the broom nor did he care. He only knew that it had been a really long time since he last had that much fun and only vaguely registered that the sun was already setting. First when he saw some movement on the ground, he stopped. Due to the darkness, he could not recognize the person and decided it would be better to find out who it was, before he got into trouble. Maybe he should have asked someone before simply taking a broom.

One last time Harry used everything the broom had to give and sped down at an amazing speed, before he softly touched the ground. First then did he recognize the person he had seen. He would have expected anything from facing Mr. Filch to a disgruntled flying instructor, but now that he was facing James Potter yet again, he did not know how to react.

Harry dismounted the broom and tried to hold the gaze with his father, who was glaring at him.

James did not know what kind of reaction he had expected from this stranger, but he was surprised by this one. It seemed as if this young man, who had been so bold only a couple of hours ago, was suddenly being intimidated by him. So maybe now he would get some answers.

“What are you doing here?� He noticed how the young man’s gaze flickered to the broom and back to him. Then something in his green eyeshardened and his back straightened.

“Flying. Is that a crime?� After having first been surprised, he now had gotten his confidence back.

“Who gave you the broom?�

“No one. I took it with every intention of bringing it back.�

“Does Dumbledore know that you are here?�

Harry shrugged. “Doesn’t he always know what’s going on in his school?�

“You seem to know a lot about Hogwarts.� James eyed him suspiciously. “But I’m sure that I have never seen you here before. You must be what? Four, five years younger than me? That means that I must have, if not known, at least seen you at Hogwarts.�

“James, this is enough,� Dumbledore’s firm voice interrupted him. The Headmaster had appeared a few feet next to them seemingly out of nowhere, now wearing dark purple robes and hat. He cast an amused glance at the broom in Harry’s hand and then back at the two young men – father and son. Now that he had the chance to compare them directly, he had to admit that the resemblance was astonishing. Even though the younger of the two was wearing his raven hair longer and had Lily’s eyes, he was an exact image of his father. He wondered when James or one of his friends would see this. He turned to Harry, trying to avoid speaking his name. “Your friends have awoken and are now waiting for you in my office.�

“Sorry,� Harry mumbled. “I didn’t realize how late it already is.�

“No need to be sorry. I understand that one has to relax from time to time.� Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled at him knowingly. “Oh, and James. Lily asked about your whereabouts. It seems as if you disappeared quite sudden.�

James grinned slightly sheepishly at his old Headmaster and ran a hand through his already unruly hair. “Then I think it’s better when I go back to her.� He shot one more glare at Harry, before he returned to the hospital wing.

When James was finally gone, Harry released a deep breath. “Thank you, Headmaster,� he sighed. “I did not know that he could be that insistent.�

“Did you not…� The twinkle in his eyes had become stronger again, as if he knew something he found humorous and it unnerved Harry slightly. “Whatever, I think we should not let your friends wait any longer, don’t you think?�

~*~

Harry followed Dumbledore through the halls of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, after he had brought the broom back, to the old Headmaster’s office. Not that he would not have found it by himself. He had, after all, walked through these hallways quite often during his school years and spent way too much time in Dumbledore’s chambers.

After having taken numerous turns and having climbed several of the moving stairs, they stopped in front of the gargoyle that was guarding the entrance to the office. Dumbledore gave it the password (chocolate chip cookies) and the door to the spiral staircase that would lead up to the office itself opened. Harry walked after Dumbledore up the stairs and stepped behind him through the last door.

There were four comfortable chairs in front of the Headmaster’s desk, of which three were already occupied by Ron, Hermione and Draco. Harry smiled at them apologizing and slid into the last one, while Ron was grinning, Draco smirking and Hermione was giving him her well-known look of disapproval. Harry, feeling slightly as if he were back in school and he and Ron had yet again broken some school rules, grinned back.

Dumbledore watched this exchange amused and sat down as well. They reminded him a lot of the Marauders, though they were unique in their own way. “Sherbet Lemon?� They shook their heads in unison. “Not? Well, then I think it is time to move on to more serious matters. While you were resting, I did some research on the spell that Voldemort used on you and when you first mentioned it, I thought it was familiar, and indeed, I found many references to this spell, but mostly in history books.

According to those books, a dark wizard, who wanted to use it to get some of his enemies out of his way without having to engage them in a real fight, invented this spell about five hundred years ago. It was only cast by him once or twice and then never again, because there hadn’t been another wizard for five hundred years with this kind of power. There are two facts known of this spell. The first is that this spell transports everyone it is cast upon to the past, but not like the Time Turner. It is written that the spell Proferre Tempus creates a new timeline so that whatever influence the travellers have on the future events, it would not change anything in the present of the caster.�

“Excuse me, Professor,� Hermione interrupted him. “But does this mean that our appearance here doesn’t affect the time we came from, but that by coming here, we actually only change what is going to happen in this time?�

“Sorry, but I don’t understand what you are talking about class,� Ron mumbled, shaking his head.

“Really Weasley, sometime I don’t know if you’re really that stupid or if you just act like this. What they mean is that if we killed Voldemort here in this time, he would still be alive in the time we originally come from. It’s really not that hard to understand,� Malfoy sneered at him.

Dumbledore noticed the strange look that passed Harry’s face for the split of a second, but wisely ignored it. “Both Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy are right. No matter what you do in this time, it will not change anything in your present. The other fact is, and I regret it deeply to have to be the one to tell you this, that up until now there is no way known to send the time travellers back to their time.�

“This can’t be true!� Harry suddenly yelled. “There has to be a way! I can’t just stay here while Voldemort is still out there in our time with no one to stop him!�

Dumbledore looked at the young man sympathetically. In contrary to the young man’s friends it seemed, he knew what this meant and why he was so upset. “Mr. Potter, I know that this comes to you as a shock, but I promise you that I will do anything in my power to help you. My guess is that no counter spell has been found because no one has been looking for it. Maybe we even find a way to return you to the exact moment he had cast this spell.�

“And what do you suppose we could do now?� Hermione asked, still a bit taken aback by this sudden revelation. She was, however, sure that Dumbledore would stay true to his word. She never had had any reason not to trust him, so why should she doubt him now? Ron and Draco seemed to be thinking along the same lines. It was Harry she was worried about. She remembered the changes in him that had started in their sixth year, after Sirius death. At first, she had been happy about his newly won dedication to studying, but later her worries had gotten stronger and stronger. It almost seemed as if Harry wanted to be the one to defeat Voldemort once and for all. Of course, she could understand him, but she also could not forget that other people had lost family and friends because of the Dark Lord, too. Harry did not seem to think so, because his striving to become better and better so that he would be ready, when he was to face Voldemort, had become an obsession, leaving almost no time for fun. She had hoped for so long that they would finally defeat the Dark Lord so that Harry could start living again. She wanted the old Harry, her old friend back, though she knew that he would never be the same again after the war.

“Well, while you are staying here, I would like to offer you some jobs here at Hogwarts. Due to the war and retirements, I fear that I’m in desperate need for some new professors in the coming school year. Does anyone of you have any teaching experience?�

“Mmh,� Hermione nervously fidgeted with her hands. “In my time I teach Transfiguration here at Hogwarts.�

Dumbledore raised one eyebrow, but kept his questions for himself. They would tell him what he needed to know when they thought that the time was right. “Very good, Miss Granger. So Minerva would be able to help more in the war. Would you also take over the responsibility of being Head of Gryffindor?�

“I’d love to.� Hermione beamed at the Headmaster, grateful that she would be able to do something she knew she would be good at.

“I’m glad that you’re satisfied. Mr. Weasley, I also need a new flying instructor, since the last one retired last year.�

“Sounds good,� Ron sighed with relief. “Do you maybe also need Defence Against Dark Arts teachers? Because both Harry and Malfoy would be qualified for this job. Both of them are Aurors, and good ones at that, and Harry already taught his fellow students in a defence club from fifth to seventh year.�

“So, did he? Fortunately, the spot is open, as well as the position as potion teacher and Head of Slytherin House. But I would also like to hear what Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy think about this.� Dumbledore’s eyes again held the infamous twinkle in his eyes.

Draco scowled. “Teaching with Potter? Never!� When he noticed the looks the others were giving him, he heaved a sigh. “With all due respect, Sir, but Potter and I barely manage not to kill each other during our missions, so I don’t think that we should teach together. However, the position as potions teacher sounds interesting, as well as Head of Slytherin. I can assure you that I received an O in Potions in my NEWTs and I was in Slytherin myself. So that leaves the spot as defence teacher for Potter.�

“Very well,� Dumbledore smiled at them. “Mr. Potter?�

“I have nothing to say, except ‘thank you’, Headmaster. I don’t know how we could ever repay you for your generosity.�

“You could repay me by doing a good job and teach your students everything they need to know. There is, however, one more matter that needs to be discussed. It’s about your identities. I don’t think that it would be a problem for Miss Granger to use her real name and I’m sure that Mr. Weasley could easily pass as one long-lost member of the Weasley family, even though I think that we should let Arthur in on your true identity, so that he could confirm that you’re a Weasley.�

Ron swallowed hard, but nodded in agreement.

“Good… Mr. Potter, when you agree, I would also like to let your father in on this. He’s still very suspicious of you and sooner or later will find out the truth anyway. This would also enable you to keep your name, as he could also say that you’re a cousin of him or something.�

“Okay, I guess.� Harry had a bad feeling about this. Not especially about that his father knew who he was, but more about the questions that were bound to come and to which Harry would not know how to answer. How do you tell your parents that they would die?

“Now that leaves Mr. Malfoy… I think you do understand the necessity of changing your name. It is common knowledge that your father allied himself with Voldemort and if it reaches him that a Malfoy is teaching at Hogwarts he would surely send someone to investigate and we cannot risk that the knowledge that Hogwarts harbours a couple of time travellers leaves these walls. Do you have any suggestions?�

“As a matter of fact, I have…� Draco ignored the surprised looks the others were giving him and continued with a smug smile on his face. Did they really think that he had not thought about this? “I was thinking about Eirian Draconis. Eirian is my middle name and means silver. And I chose Draconis as last name, so that my companions could still get away with calling me Draco. They only have to be careful about calling me Malfoy,� he said this while throwing a side-glance at Ron, who was still having the hardest time accepting Malfoy into their group. So Draco treated him with the same hostility he received from the redhead.

“Very well, Eirian Draconis. We will have a staff meeting tomorrow and then I will introduce you to the other professors.� Dumbledore looked at the fireplace in his office thoughtfully. “But now we should call Arthur Weasley and James Potter and inform them about the current situation.�

Ron and Harry looked at each other, both thinking the same – how would their fathers react?

A/N: Since this isn’t a real chapter, at least it doesn’t have the length of one, I thought that I could just as well update this one now and then another one someday this week, as soon as I have enough time…

Have fun, oh, and thanks again for the reviews you already left!

Chapter 7: Interlude

Hermione watched her friends apprehensively, as Dumbledore went to the fireplace to call Arthur Weasley and James Potter over to his office. Ron was pretty pale around his nose, making his freckles even more prominent, and he was gripping onto the armrests as if his life depended on it, while Harry's whole body was tensed. He tried not to show it, as always, his expression was one of complete calm, but in the ten years they had known each other, Hermione had learned to read him, maybe not like an open book, but so that she could at least interpret the mood he was in. The slight twitch in his otherwise so still fingers gave him away.

They did not hear what Dumbledore was exactly saying through the fireplace. He had started with the Burrow and had moved on to the hospital wing of Hogwarts. Her eyes widened with realization. Was James staying here at the castle? Was this the place where Harry was born? But that must mean that Lily must also be here. Harry did not look that surprised at this revelation, so either he was just able to conceal any emotion on his face or he already knew about it. Hermione's eyes got even wider, when she finally added one and one. She had seen someone flying around the Quidditch field and due to the fact that Harry's face had been slightly flushed and his hair even more mussed than before, she had assumed that it had been him. Had he and James had yet another run in? Was this how he knew that they were staying at Hogwarts?

She was pulled out of her thoughts, when Dumbledore's head emerged again from the fireplace and he turned to them with a serious but still gentle look on his face. "Arthur and James will arrive here in about thirty minutes. Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy, sorry, Mister Draconis, I would advise you to return to your chambers, where you will find some dinner for you. I'm sure that it will be better for Mister Potter and Mister Weasley to face their fathers alone. As for you," he turned to Harry and Ron, "I think thirty minutes are enough time for you to also have some dinner. Please sit down." With a wave of his wand, Albus Dumbledore conjured a round table, already set with several kinds of food, and three chairs around it.

"Of course, Professor." Hermione got up, motioning for Draco to follow her. Harry and Ron also rose from their chairs and Hermione used the chance to throw herself at both of them to engulf them in an embrace. "Everything will be okay. I'll wait up for you." She smiled at them reassuringly, which the two young men tried to return.

Before they left the office, however, Draco turned back. "Potter, Weasley, good luck."

The door closed behind him and Harry and Ron were alone with Dumbledore. The Headmaster of Hogwarts sat down in a chair and they followed his lead. Like Dumbledore, Ron immediately began piling food on his plate – that would give him something to do to keep his mind of the meeting, but Harry just stared at his plate with a sick feeling his stomach. He wondered how Ron could stomach something in a situation like this, while he was having the same feeling in his stomach that he had already had before his first Quidditch match in his first year. He almost smiled at the irony of this. Here he was, waiting to meet his father properly and he was comparing the situation with his first Quidditch match. How much did he wish that he would right now be in that situation – at least things had still been much more uncomplicated then.

Harry noticed how his fingers twitched again. He threw one last disgusted look at the food in front of him and then stood up. "If you excuse me, Professor, I need to get some fresh air." Briskly walking out of the office, Harry did not notice the confused look on Dumbledore's face.

"Mister Weasley, I understand if you wanted to follow your friend. He seemed a bit upset."

"Don't worry, Professor," Ron assured him between some bites. "He's not upset, just a bit edgy. I think that we all are, but Harry has a lot more on his plate than the rest of us. If there's one thing that we've learned in our friendship, then that we all deal differently with things the world throws at us. Harry only needs some solitude to calm down and think things over. Could you pass the meat-balls, please?"

"Of course." The professor handed him the bowl and looked at the young man curiously and wondered not for the first time that day what those four young people had gone through in their time. They were much more mature than most people their age and the friendship between them was strong – especially between Harry, Hermione and Ron. It seemed that Draco Malfoy had joined this group at a later date and that there was a strong dislike between him and young Mr. Weasley, while Harry and Hermione were doing their best to integrate him into their group.

He shook his head. He should not wonder about things that did not concern him, yet. He should more worry about how James and Arthur were going to react to this sudden revelation that two of the four newcomers were their sons.

~*~

Harry stormed down the spiral staircase, past the gargoyle and went a few steps until he stopped in front of an open window. He pushed his hands into his pocket as if searching for something and groaned, when he remembered that these were new robes and that what he was looking for had been in his old ones. Running a hand through his hair he thought about what he could do now. He desperately needed a fag to calm his nerves. Suddenly he spotted a small stone lying on the windowsill and whipped out his wand. A second later, the stone was transfigured into a cigarette. Also using magic to light it, he took a long deep drag and exhaled the smoke, immediately feeling some of the tension leaving him.

This day was really bad and almost continuously spiraling downwards so that it almost could not get worse. Okay, there had been a few highlights, like Dumbledore accepting them into the school, but mostly things had not been great for him and his friends. He also worried about his other friends in the future. Had they been able to at least force Voldemort to retreat or had his friends run away? Had they gotten away unscathed or were there losses? Whatever had happened, without him they would not be able to defeat Voldemort. He knew it and Dumbledore knew it, or rather both Dumbledores.

Harry leaned against the cool glass of the window, soothing the light stinging in his scar. Maybe he would need to tell Dumbledore about his connection to Voldemort and if it meant anything in this time. He needed to find out, if this Voldemort was also able to feel this connection or if it was just one-sided, since he had not attacked him yet. This would work for their advantage. Maybe he should also tell his friends. They thought that the link was gone, but did not know that it had only needed some time to reestablish itself with the Voldemort of this timeline. But he did not want them to worry about that – they had enough to worry about in the current situation and Harry did not want to add to that pile.

At least the problem of what they were going to do now was solved. Teaching at Hogwarts… He would have never thought that he would live to see that. Hermione seemed to have been positively happy that she could teach again and he was glad that she was happy. Teaching gave her something to do, some normalcy in this crazy situation. Ron was lucky that the spot for the flying instructor had been open, but Harry already felt sorry for the kids that had to take potions. He could not imagine that Draco would be any nicer in class than Snape had ever been. The Slytherin reputation needed to be kept up, after all. However, Harry was a bit unsure about teaching the kids Defense Against Dark Arts. Of course had he already taught his fellow classmates, but he did not think that he was suited for educating small children. Well, he would see how good he really was, when classes started in one month and at least the kids would not look at him like he was some sort of celebrity. For the first time in his life he would not be The Boy Who Lived. Harry only needed to be careful to teach them spells and curses that had already been invented at that point - the best would be to stay as close to the curriculum as possible.

But maybe, maybe he would be able to change something in this time, so that the people here would have a better future. He would need to think about it, if he wanted to risk it. Even though Dumbledore had said that, with their appearance in this time, they had created an alternate timeline, they still could not know for sure, so it was better to be safe than sorry.

"You do know that smoking is forbidden in the whole castle."

Harry had been wrong, when he had thought that the day could not get worse. It just had. Sighing, he extinguished his cigarette on the stone and turned the owner of the voice. "You worry too much over things that don't concern you at all. If the Headmaster doesn't want me to smoke here, I'm sure he'll tell me."

James Potter stepped into the light of one of the torches at the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "And you're too bold for your own good. I guess Dumbledore called me because of you and your companions, though I couldn't fathom, why…"

Harry had to hide a smirk, as he shrugged. Even though his father had good reasons to distrust him and treat him with this kind of hostility, he could not help but looking forward to see his face when he got to know the truth. "Are the thirty minutes up already?"

"Not yet. But I was curious as to why Dumbledore wanted to see me at this hour, so I hurried a bit."

"Well then, I don't want to keep you waiting. Maybe the Headmaster's other guest had also arrived in the meantime." Harry stepped aside to the still open stairs of the gargoyle. "After you." Glaring at the younger man, James walked past him, but glancing back to make sure that he followed. Harry, however, did not know if he should laugh or groan at his father's antics. His stomach started to twist again and he felt the nervousness growing even stronger. This was promising to get interesting.

A/N: Thanks a lot for all those reviews you left me… At frist I thought that no one was going to read this, but it seems to become pretty popular… I hope you’ll also like the coming chapters! Again, thank you!

Chapter 8: Fathers and Sons

"Granger, stop pacing. It's annoying." Back in the common room of the four time travellers, Draco was sitting in one of the stuffed armchairs and chewed on a chicken wing, one of the many kinds of food that the house-elves had brought them, while reading the Evening Prophet that had come with the food. The headline on the front page read Several Death Eater Attacks Prevailed and he seemed to be quite engrossed in the article. This, however, did not keep him from noticing Hermione, who was literally about to run a hole in the red carpet and had not even spared a glance at her plate on the table.

The young woman threw a frustrated glare at the Slytherin and put her hands on her hips. "How can you be so calm?" she asked him. "It's now only a couple of minutes until Harry and Ron meet their fathers and…"

"Exactly, it's Potter and Weasley who'll meet their fathers. It's not you and it's not me. So calm down!" Annoyed, he turned his attention back to the newspaper and turned to the next page. He just wanted to start reading the new paragraph, when it was torn out of his hands. "Hey!"

"In case you haven't noticed, Malfoy, Harry and Ron are my friends. So it's only natural that I'm nervous as well. Who knows how James and Arthur will react? What if they don't believe them? What if…"

Draco did not want to hear any more of this. He got up from the chair and gripped Hermione firmly at the upper arms. Startled, she let go of the newspaper, which fell to the floor. "Granger, listen. We don't know how they will react, but neither do Weasley and Potter. They are about to find out and there's nothing you or I could do to help them now. The only thing you can do now is calm down, sit and eat something. I'm sure that they will tell you what has happened as soon as they step through the portrait. So, be reasonable and here, read." He let go of her arms, picked up the crumpled Prophet and gave it to her. "We are also mentioned."

Slightly stunned by Draco's outburst, Hermione nodded and sat down in the chair. She put some vegetables and meatballs on her plate and unfolded the newspaper on the right side of the plate. She did not notice Draco's somewhat amused gaze, as she immediately began to scan the lines of the article and seemingly absorbed every bit of information that she deemed important.

"This is not good," she mumbled, as she had finished the article of the attack. "Among the victims was also the family of Ministry worker Arthur Weasley. Fortunately, the attackers, three young men and one young woman, could be captured before any harm could be done and were interrogated by Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of´Hogwarts, School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Professor Dumbledore however stated in an interview this afternoon that those four young people are innocent and in no way connected to the planned Death Eater attacks. If we can believe his words is doubtful, as the Prophet knows from good authority that at least one of them bears the Dark Mark." Hermione closed the newspaper and looked at Draco with a worried expression on her face. "This is terrible. When the Ministry finds out that we're going to teach this year, they'll try to find a way to remove Dumbledore, I just know it."

"Stay calm, Granger. You know the old man. How often has anyone tried to remove Dumbledore from Hogwarts? Neither Lucius nor Fudge was ever successful, as Dumbledore always came back. Besides, they also did not suspend him, as he allowed Snape to teach here at Hogwarts, and he was a known Death Eater."

"I hope you're right," Hermione sighed. She rubbed her temples and threw a short glance at the clock over the entrance. The thirty minutes were up.

~*~

When Harry stepped through the door behind James, he could just see the fire in Dumbledore's fireplace flare up in a green light and Arthur Weasley stumbling out of it. Mr. Weasley got on his feet more or less gracefully and wiped the ash from his clothes. Harry used the time to stand next to Ron, who suddenly looked again a lot greener in the face. It reminded him of the one time in second year, when his friend's wand had backfired and he had to throw up slugs the whole afternoon, and he had to grin involuntarily. Thinking back to those happy times somehow helped him to relax, even if just a bit.

"Ah, James, Arthur, I'm glad that you could make it. And you're early, the half hour isn't even up yet," Albus Dumbledore greeted them. "Please sit down." The headmaster motioned with his head to two of the four chairs that were still standing in front of his desk from earlier that evening.

"No, thank you, Albus," James said, the whole time eyeing Harry and Ron rather suspiciously. "I'd rather stand."

"Me, too, Albus," Arthur agreed, also looking at the two young men.

"Sherbet lemon? No?" Dumbledore asked, when all four of them shook their heads. "Well then, I think we can begin. I'm sure you ask yourself, what you're doing here…"

"I'm sure it's about those two, isn't it."

"Indeed, it is, James. But I think that what I'm going to tell you now is what you would least expect. Are you sure you don't want to sit down?" When the four men again shook their heads, Dumbledore's face turned serious. "Good, but first of all I must express that it is important that what you're going to hear now will not leave my office. Well, I can make an exception, you are allowed to tell your wives, if you wish to, as this matter concerns them as much as it does concern you, but no one else." Saying this, he threw a small glance at James, knowing fully well that he would want to tell his friends about it.

"Excuse me, Albus," Arthur interjected with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Please tell me, if I'm wrong, but aren't they two of the four young people that were captured near my home?"

"You are right, Arthur. But believe me when I tell you that they just got there through the must unfortunate circumstances. You see, those four young people are not from around here, in the broadest sense."

"But then, where are they from?" James demanded to know. He clenched his fist tightly around his wand, poised to act if one of those two strangers dared to do something stupid. He did not trust them, not at all and especially the black haired one was unnerving him. There was something about him, he just could not put his finger on it.

"Hey, 'they' are standing right here!" Ron said angrily.

Harry put a calming hand on his friend's shoulder and looked at Dumbledore. The headmaster nodded at him and Harry turned to his father and the father of a couple of his friends. "We're from the future," he said softly, in the hope that this might ease the blow.

The look on their father's faces was priceless and if the situation were not so severe, Ron and Harry probably would have burst out laughing. However, so they only exchanged a small grin, partly because of the faces but also due to the fact that now a part of the truth was out.

"They must be lying!" James almost yelled. Again Harry had to hide a grin. Now he knew whom he could thank for his temper.

Dumbledore looked at him sternly over his half-moon glasses, though he could not suppress a small twinkle in his eyes that betrayed that he found the situation at least a bit amusing. "I assure you James, that they are not lying. James, Arthur, may I introduce you to Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, your sons?"

"I knew you reminded me of someone," Arthur Weasley mumbled and walked up to Ron. "I should have noticed before that you have all the typical Weasley features. Well Ron, it's nice to meet you, I mean, the adult-you."

Arthur excitedly extended his hand, which Ron gave a wary glance, before shaking it. The younger Weasley let out a quiet sigh of relief. Who would have thought that his father would accept the fact that his son from the future was standing in front of them just like that? He did not. Ron quickly let his eyes wander to James Potter, whose glare would kill them, if it were possible. It seemed that he was luckier than Harry, who probably was about to face a large challenge to convince his father that they were not lying.

After they both had let go, Arthur turned to Harry with a similar eager expression as he had had when he had first met Harry shortly before their second year, when Ron, Fred and George had rescued him from the Dursleys. "So, Harry, James' son, huh? Nice to meet you, too. Molly and I wanted to come to Hogwarts tomorrow to see your baby-self, but seeing you and Ron grown up is quite a surprise. And you're friends?" At Harry's stunned nod – he had somehow known that Ron's father would be able to digest this information rather quickly, but that he was already this friendly and forthcoming was rather unexpected - he turned to James. "Hey James, who would have believed that? Our sons, standing here before us!"

"I don't," James said simply. "I need proof. This story about time travelling is a bit too farfetched for my liking.�

"Oh, come on," Arthur said smiling. "Don't you see the resemblance? If his hair were a bit shorter, he would look almost exactly like you, only with Lily's eyes."

"Albus?" James turned to the headmaster, who had a light smile tugging at his lips. He desperately longed for an explanation for this, or for something that might disprove what Dumbledore had just told them. This young man cannot be his son, he just can't! His son was in the hospital wing with his wife, still a baby and not a young man with a scar on his forehead, a scar on his right cheek and eyes that betrayed that they had already seen too much. He had promised himself that his son would grow up in a world free of Voldemort, free of Death Eaters and free of anything that might let him grow up too fast, so this young man cannot be his son. Maybe an impostor, trying to get into Dumbledore’s inner circle with this ridiculous story and the old headmaster appeared to believe them! This man was not his son! And he, James Potter, would find the proof for that! “I’m sorry, Albus, but I don’t believe a word of this. I’m out of here!� With a short apologizing nod towards the headmaster, he turned around to leave the office, but stopped shortly next to Arthur Weasley. “If I were you, I would be careful around them,� he whispered into his ear. “Remember, you have six sons you have to care for and don’t forget about Molly. I would hate to tell her that you fell into a trap of Voldemort and that I warned you about it. See you tomorrow.�

Dumbledore sighed, as he watched James closing the door to the office behind him. He had been able to hear the distress in the young man's voice, almost an imploration to tell him that this was only a joke. He knew this young man all too well to guess his thoughts and it somehow comforted him to know that, even if it was somewhere deep down, James had come to accept that it was indeed his son standing in front of him. He now only needed this to be confirmed. Only what it was that would convince him, he did not know. Maybe it was only time, but maybe, maybe it was something completely different. “I apologize for his rude behaviour, especially to you, Mr. Potter. It must be hard for you to not be accepted by your father, when your friend was so much easier accepted.�

Harry shook his head. Even though he was disappointed, he could understand James’ reasons perfectly. Was it not only a couple of hours ago that he himself had thought that Dumbledore was a fraud, only playing the role of the great wizard, to lure them into a feeling of safety? It had only been the prophecy that had convinced him, both of them as a matter of fact, that they were on the same side. “You don’t need to apologize, Professor. I understand him.�

“Indeed, Mr. Potter, indeed. I suggest you wait until he had some time to digest that news and calm down and then you seek to speak to him privately.�

“I will, Professor…�

“I’m sorry, if I’m interrupting somehow…� Arthur said quietly. “But I’m curious as to why you’ve travelled back in time. Is there something you have to warn us against?�

“No, Arthur, there isn’t,� the Headmaster informed him. “Voldemort used a spell on them during a battle that brought them back.�

"You-know-who? He's still alive in your time?" he asked shocked.

"He is," Harry answered. "But for a couple of years he was believed to be defeated for good, until one loyal Death Eater revived him. I don't want to go too much into detail right now, as I'm still not sure if we have any influence on this timeline." This was, however, only one reason to tell them about Voldemort’s fall and resurrection. He still did not know if it would be a good idea to tell them that his parents would die in about 15 months and it also still hurt to think about the fight in the cemetery, about Cedric Diggory's useless death.

"Young Mister Potter is right," Dumbledore said. "I think we should leave further questions for later. For now I want to discuss another matter with you." The headmaster told the one remaining father about the plan that would enable Ron and Harry to keep their names. Arthur immediately agreed to confirm that Ron was a distant cousin and that he and his friends found out about the open teaching spots at Hogwarts through him. They also agreed on telling everybody who wanted to know that they had had only contact through owl-post and therefore had not recognized the young people, who had unfortunately arrived at the same time the attack had been planned, thus mistaking them as Death Eaters.

"I still have one question, though," the older Weasley said. "Your two friends, who are they, and why does one of them bear the Dark Mark?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other and Harry decided to explain. "They are Hermione Granger and our other friend goes by Eirian Draconis. He doesn't want his name to be known since it could lead to… difficulties. Hermione is a muggle-born witch, the best of our year and Eirian was a Death Eater and a spy for our side."

"I see…" Arthur mumbled thoughtfully.

"Well, well… It's already pretty late again and there is a staff meeting tomorrow morning after breakfast. Besides, Arthur, I don't want to keep you any longer from your family. I'm sure you can have the father-son-talk at a later date."

"Of course." Arthur, who had sat down during Dumbledore's explanation, stood up again and put his hat on his head. "Ron, I'll have to bring you home sometime. I'm sure that Molly will be thrilled to meet her baby boy." He winked at him.

"But Arthur, remember… You may only tell your wife and no one else may know about this."

"I understand." He grabbed some floo powder, stepped into the flames and after naming his destination (the Burrow), he was gone.

When the fire had returned to its normal colour, Harry and Ron slumped into their chairs. "Well, that was not too bad, wasn't it?" Ron asked his friend. “I mean, at least one of our fathers did easily accept us.

“Yeah,� Harry said tiredly. “I only wonder what my father will do now… I hope he does not parade around to tell everyone he meets about this.�

"Don’t worry, he won’t," Dumbledore told them. "But if it will help you, I will talk to him about it. I will then also mention what Arthur agreed on, so that you’ll have no problem to keep your name. But now, it’s late and you should head back to your chambers to tell your friends… Breakfast is from eight to ten and the staff meeting begins at half past ten."

"Okay, we'll tell the others…" Harry said. “Professor Dumbledore, again thank you for everything you’re doing for us.� A small, grateful lit up his face, which Dumbledore returned with a nod.

~*~

After having said goodnight, Ron and Harry were on their way back to their rooms. Once there and inside, they saw Hermione lying on the sofa, fast asleep and Draco sitting in an armchair near the fireplace, reading a book. He turned around, when he heard the noise of the portrait closing, and walked up to them. "Be quiet, she fell asleep about half an hour ago after having paced almost the whole time before. How was it?" he whispered.

"It was… well, partly good," Harry said with a half-smile. "Ron’s dad believed us, though it seems that my father needs some more time. Should we wake her?" he asked, motioning with his head towards Hermione.

Draco shook his head. "Let's wait until tomorrow. You can tell us the exact details before breakfast, not that I'm interested, of course."

"Okay." Harry smirked and then briefly told him what Dumbledore had said about breakfast and the staff meeting and then they each went into their own rooms, leaving Hermione in the common room on the couch.

A/N: Mmh, I honestly thought I already had this chapter submitted before Christmas, but somehow it didn't seem to have worked... However, here it is now... Oh, and thank you, thank you, thank you so much for the reviews… I hope you won’t kill me, because this chapter once again ends with a somewhat evil cliffhanger… At least I think that it’s at least a bit evil… Have fun!

Chapter 9: Friends and Colleagues

Harry Potter woke up to two well-known voices yelling at each other in the common room. Like he had done all the other times, whenever he had woken up to his friends fighting, he grabbed his wand to place a silencing charm on his room, so that he could go back to sleep undisturbed. This time, however, he thought better of it and placed it back on his nightstand, when he saw the sunlight shining through the curtains. Maybe he should get up after all, since it seemed that they would have a pretty busy day. Besides, Harry was kind of curious to find out, what had set them off this time.

Getting out of the bed and throwing his robe over his shoulders, he once again grabbed his wand (he never went anywhere without it anymore) and stepped through the door into the common room. There he saw them, with only a couple of feet between them, both faces flushed in a deep red colour and panting heavily, as if they had been fighting physically and not verbally, in the middle of the common room. Hermione was sill wearing the clothes from the previous day and her hair was tousled from sleeping on the couch, whereas Ron was already fully dressed. Over their shouting match, they did not even notice Harry entering the common room and the Boy Who Lived looked around the room and saw Draco, who was also already wearing his robes, standing in the doorframe to his room with an amused expression on his face. Harry caught his gaze and gave him a questioning look, but Draco only smirked knowingly and motioned with his head towards the couch.

Harry smiled in understanding, even though he was sure that he would be on the receiving end of Hermione’s tantrum as soon as she and Ron were done yelling at each other. But for now he was happy that Ron had Hermione’s undivided attention and would wait until one of them said something that would force him to make his presence known.

He and Draco watched them going at each other for another couple of minutes, both somewhat amused at their never ending quarrel, until Hermione got enough and demanded, “Ron, I want to know what happened last night! How did your fathers react?�

“I can’t tell you, Hermione. At least not yet. I want to wait until Harry is awake, because he’s also a part of this and I don’t want to tell you anything that Harry rather wants to tell you himself,� Ron said, slowly growing desperate.

Taking this as his cue to finally step in, Harry said, “I’m awake. And by the way, it was Draco’s idea to not wake you up and let you spend the night on the couch.�

Hermione and Ron jumped around and looked at him startled. The smirk on Draco’s face had suddenly disappeared, but instead of looking angry, Harry could almost swear that he was embarrassed, most likely at having been caught off guard like this. Hermione only shot Draco a quick glare, before turning her attention back to Harry, who had walked past them and sat down in one of the armchairs. She and Ron followed his example and Hermione looked at both of them expectantly, her expression alone telling them that she would not wait any longer.

“Come on, Ron, tell her what she wants to know,� Harry told his friend with a small smirk on his face.

Ron nodded numbly, still a bit surprised that Harry had obviously listened to their row for at least a couple of minutes before he had stepped in, and then started to tell Hermione his side of the story, until Harry joined the explanation. Hermione listened quietly, only giving Harry a concerned look, when Ron mentioned that James still did not believe them and was shocked to notice that Harry’s face remained emotionless the whole time. There was not even a flicker of emotion that might have betrayed what her best friend was feeling about this. She feared that Harry was on his best way to shut them, all of them, out, when he had just started to open up ever so slightly again shortly before this whole fiasco began.

After Ron had finished the tale with the information about breakfast and the staff meeting this morning, Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, before she made up her mind and her expression became a determined one. “Okay, what we have to do now is: Get ready and then hurry to get some breakfast before the staff meeting starts. I can’t believe we have slept for so long! It’s already nine o’clock!�

“I think you forgot one small fact, Granger. You and Weasley have spent a good deal of the time arguing about not waking you up last night,� Draco pointed out.

Hermione only glared again at him and said, “You and I, Malfoy, we’ll talk later.� She then turned to Ron and Harry, continuing to tell them about her plan. “We also need to make a good impression on the other teachers and then Harry needs to convince James of the truth, so that our secret will remain safe.�

They all agreed, nodding at the first three steps, but when Hermione had told Harry what he had to do, his expression hardened and he got up without saying a word. He was halfway to his room, when Hermione also jumped up, but Ron grabbed her arm. “Leave him, ‘Mione.�

“But… Harry!� she called after him.

Harry stopped in the doorframe and not turning around, he said, “Don’t worry, Hermione. I’m fine.�

~*~

When Harry had closed the door behind him, he absent-mindedly rubbed his scar. It did not hurt, but Harry knew that it would only be a matter of time until it would hurt again. For once it seemed that as if he was getting a natural headache that was not caused by his connection to Voldemort, but instead caused by the pressure once again put upon him. If he were really like his father, as everyone always said, Harry knew he would have a hard time convincing him of the truth. Simple words just would not be enough to fulfill that task.

Shaking his head, he opened his drawer and took out some clean clothes, before he disappeared in the bathroom. There he took off his shirt, splashed some cold water into his face and looked into the mirror. The reflection greeting him was not one of a twenty-one years old. He thought that he looked even older as his father, but it might just be him. The two scars on his face looked somewhat dangerous and the other thin white lines on his torso only added to that look. He could barely remember when he had gotten those scars, at least one or two during his adventures in the first six years at Hogwarts and the others he had gotten during the Battle of Hogwarts and his Auror training. Not even Madame Pomfrey or other skilled medi-witches and wizards were able to heal all wounds without leaving scars.

But what always scared him the most, when he was looking into a mirror, were his eyes. Those eyes had seen things that no one his age should have seen. Death, destruction, only to name some of them. He guessed that it were his eyes, that were making him look older than he really was. Emerald eyes, hardened with each emotional blow he had to suffer, with each other person, be it friend or stranger, that he had to watch die. Everyone always said that he had his mother’s eyes – that was not true, not anymore. Her eyes were soft, his were not.

Harry ran a hand through his long unruly hair and smiled grimly. He hoped he would not scare any first or second years away with his looks, but when he thought about it, they had not been scared by Mad-Eye Moody, or rather Barty Crouch pretending to be Mad-Eye Moody, and he was looking much worse than Harry did. Well, if Harry kept on like this, maybe he would be able to give Alastor a run for his money – someday.

Sighing, Harry turned his gaze away from the mirror and stripped off his boxers. Maybe a hot shower would help to improve his mood and if not, he would just have to act the part.

~*~

When Harry stepped again into the common room twenty minutes later, the others were already waiting for him. He flashed Hermione a reassuring smile, as she glanced at him guiltily and lightened the mood by saying, “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Let’s see if the house-elves in this time are as good as the ones in our time.� He grinned at Hermione’s frown and walked towards the entrance of their chambers. Before he pulled the portrait aside, he turned to his friends. “Come on.�

They easily found their way from their chambers to the Great Hall – it was as if they had never left Hogwarts. The four of them stopped in front of the large wooden doors, shortly glancing at each other, before Ron motioned for Harry to open them. Inside of the Great Hall was instead of the four housetables a large round table in the middle, at which already a couple of teachers were sitting. Harry noted that some of them were familiar, though younger, and other unfamiliar. Dumbledore was sitting at the head, if there even was something like a head at a round table, so that he was facing the entrance and nodded at the four newcomers to come over.

Hermione felt tears in her eyes, when they rested on the person sitting next to the Headmaster. It was a younger looking and very much alive Minerva McGonagall. She blinked them away and smiled lightly, happy that she was able to see the one person she had once considered somewhat of a mentor, again.

The other teachers turned in their seats, when the doors opened and the four young people had stepped in and the doors then once again shut behind them. Dumbledore got up, when they had approached the table and smiled kindly. “Welcome, I hope you have slept well?� At their nods, he continued. “Very well, why won’t you join us?� With a quick wave of his wand, four more plates, goblets and cutlery appeared on the suddenly enlarged table, as well as four more chairs. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco sat down under the wary glances of the other teachers and then Dumbledore proceeded to finally introduce them. He started with the four of them, telling the other teachers their names and what subjects they would teach, also explaining Ron’s and Harry’s relations to Arthur and James and then continued the other way around, by naming the other teachers and their subjects. The only other new teacher at the table was Sybill Trelawney, who was going to teach Divination, and she cried out, when Harry was introduced, immediately predicting his soon and unavoidable death. Harry only rolled his eyes at her and continued to fill scrambled eggs on his plate, much to the amusement or surprise of the other teachers.

Next to the teachers the four friends already knew (Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout), were a couple that they did not know yet. Professor Elizabeth Thatcher, a thin witch in her late thirties with straight black hair and blue eyes, taught Arithmancy. An older wizard with brown, but slowly greying hair, was Professor Kief Futhark and he taught Ancient Runes. Hermione was sitting next to a young wizard – only about four to five years older than them - and he was introduced as the teacher for Muggle Studies. His name was Christophe Hayden and he had a lean but muscular body, shorter blond hair and brown eyes.

“Not present today�, said Dumbledore, “are Professor Binn’s, who, thanks to his status as ghost, does not need to eat, Professor Sherrine Artemis, who teaches Astronomy, our Care for Magical Creatures teacher Professor Kettleburn, Hogwart’s caretaker Argus Filch, the gamekeeper Rubeus Hagrid (Harry’s, Hermione’s and Ron’s faces lit up by this name), the librarian Irma Pince and our school nurse, Poppy Pomfrey, but I think that you will meet them soon.�

When the introductions were done, the four time travellers were surprised at how warmly they were welcomed at Hogwarts, especially in this situation, but it seemed as if, even in this time, Dumbledore was fully respected and trusted by his colleagues. Hermione was immediately engaged in a deep conversation with Christophe Hayden, since it appeared that they were both muggleborn and Ron was talking to Elizabeth Thatcher about Quidditch tactics. Only Draco and Harry were currently not talking to anyone, but listening to the conversations at the table and eating.

It was only a couple of minutes later, when the doors opened again and two more persons stepped into the Great Hall. Again several heads turned around, including Harry’s and his whole body tensed up and his eyes widened. James and Lily Potter were approaching the table, but while seeing his father had somehow become something he had gotten used to over the course of
the last day, seeing his mother was something completely different. He only knew her from pictures and from his few memories of his parents, but seeing her alive and in person was rendering him speechless. She was even more beautiful than on the pictures, all traces of having given birth just one day ago were gone. The sunrays coming from the enchanted ceiling let her hair glow in many different shades of red and he was sure that he would never forget the soft smile on her face. He swallowed hard, as they got closer and tried to regain his composure. It would not be good if someone caught him staring at a married woman.

Dumbledore greeted the newcomers and with a wave of his wand the table was set for two more people between Professor Flitwick and Professor Trelawney. Lily smiled at them and Harry noticed, how she squeezed James’ hand, when they sat down. After having filled their plates, Professor Flitwick inquired about Lily’s and little Harry’s well-being. He also asked, if they had named their son after James’ cousin.

James threw an uneasy look at Harry, but Lily saved him. “To be honest, it was my idea to name him Harry. At that time I did not even know that James does have a cousin called Harry until I told him how I wanted to call our son.� She smiled at Harry how only a mother could smile at her child and Harry’s heart missed a bit.

Could she know?

He glanced at Dumbledore, who only nodded once, even though he also looked a bit surprised. He apparently had talked to James about playing along, even though he did not believe their story, but did not know that James had talked about this to his wife, who, it seemed, believed them.

The rest of the breakfast passed quickly and rather uneventful. Some of the teachers asked, how they had come to teaching at Hogwarts and what they had done before. Harry told them the cover story, only to have everything confirmed by James, even the things that he had made up even now, for example their previous education. He had told them that he and his friends had visited a wizarding school in a small town they had grown up in. Harry had heard of those schools before and thought that this would be the perfect alibi.

When Dumbledore clapped into his hands and the table was cleared, James and Lily got up again. They bade them a good day and while they were leaving, James walked directly past Harry, who suddenly felt a piece of paper in his hand. He quickly looked around, but no one had noticed anything. Hermione was still talking to the other young teacher, while Draco had joined Ron in the conversation with the Arithmancy professor. The other teachers also did not pay him any attention, so he quickly unfolded the note. It read, ‘Meet me at the Quidditch pitch after the staff meeting. J.P.’

Slowly, one after another the rest of the teachers filed in and when everyone was seated, Dumbledore repeated the introductions with the new teachers and then proceeded to topics concerning the coming school year and what the situation with Voldemort meant to this. But Harry was not able to concentrate enough to listen. His mind was still on the note he had received from James. Besides, he was sure that Hermione, who was diligently making notes, would tell him everything later.

It seemed to Harry as if the meeting would not end, when Dumbledore suddenly announced that the staff meeting was over. Harry, having waited for this the whole time, curtly excused himself and left the Great Hall, ignoring the confused looks on his friends’ faces.

~*~

When also the other teachers rose from the table, Hermione turned to Christophe Hayden. “Excuse me, please, but I need to go to the library. I wanted to start on the lesson plan for the coming term.�

He smiled at her. “May I accompany you? I also need to add some finishing touches to mine and besides, this castle is enormous and it would be bad, if a professor got lost on her first day.�

Hermione chuckled. Of course, he could not know that she knew most of the corridors by heart. “You may.�

Continuing to talk about Hogwarts, they left the Great Hall. None of them noticed the one person looking after them with an unreadable expression on his face.

~*~

Harry slowed his steps, when he neared the Quidditch pit, not wanting to appear out of breath. He walked around the stands and saw James sitting on the bench for the reserve players. His father was already expecting him.

Chapter 10: The Stag and the Fawn

When he heard the rustling of the dry grass of the Quidditch pitch, James Potter raised his head and opened his eyes. He had been sitting there ever since he had brought his wife back to the room Dumbledore had offered them for the next days until Lily and little Harry felt up to going back home. As a matter of fact, it was her doing that he was about to meet again with the young man that claimed to be his son. His eyes landed on the black-haired young man walking up to him and he stood up with a stoic expression on his face.

As soon as Harry's gaze landed on his father, he started to ask himself, what exactly he was doing here. He suddenly highly doubted that James just wanted to talk to him. But what should he do if his father decided that everything that had been said the night before had been a lie? What should he do if his father decided to attack him? Should he fight back? Unconsciously Harry checked the holster around his right forearm, which held his wand (A nice present from Ron to his birthday before he had started the Auror training – Harry only had to will the wand into his hand and the holster would let it slip into his palm.) He had no idea how he was in duelling – no one had ever told him. He had found out things about his parents' life, about their characters, but nothing about their fighting skills. Harry only knew that Voldemort had killed them without much trouble, so that had to mean something, had it not? He himself was at least able to fight Voldemort and still lived. Did that mean that he was already a better wizard than his father was?

Harry shook his head. This did not matter right now. He did not want to fight his father. He wanted to prove that he was really his son, that he had not lied! And there was no backing out now. Right now, Harry would not be too unhappy if he had a fag to calm his already nearly bursting nerves.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Harry asked when he stopped in front of James. He noted that he and his father were of the same height and about the same build. Once again Harry had to admit that the others were right, when they said that he looked much like his father. Something he had only seen in pictures before he could now see in person. He instinctively ran a hand through his long hair, causing a few strands to fall out of the tie that held it together, when he noticed the unruly black mob on his father's head. They had the same nose and almost the same cheekbones, though Harry's were a bit more accentuated.

But not only Harry was comparing himself with his father. James did too and because of this, he did not answer immediately. He was too amazed by the obvious resemblance between them that Arthur had already pointed out to him after the surprising revelation the night before. It was almost like looking into a mirror, only that the mirror showed another version of him, a version that had seen too much and been through too much.

"I did," he answered at length. "I wanted to ask you, if what you said yesterday is the truth or just a story made up to earn Dumbledore's trust."

Deep in his stomach, Harry felt slightly self-conscious under his father's scrutinizing gaze, but neither his posture nor his voice betrayed it. "It's the truth. Besides, Dumbledore already trusted me before he even knew who I was. In the end it was something…" Harry hesitated. Did his parents already know of the prophecy or did they not? If not, he did not want to reveal it. "Something else that gained his complete trust. Actually, it was my identity that convinced Dumbledore fully."

"Can you prove it? As I already said last night, I need some proofs before I can believe you…"

"What do you want to know?" Harry asked uneasily. He had no idea how to convince his father.

James shrugged. "Tell me things that only my son would know, things that only Lily or I could have told you…"

I can't remember a thing you told me, Harry thought, normal'>because I was only one year old, when you died.

He was quickly growing desperate, but still did not show it. Instead it looked like he was just thinking hard of something that might be enough to prove to his father that he was truly his son from the future. Again the first thing he thought of was the prophecy, but since he still did not know if Dumbledore had already informed his parents about it, he remained quiet.

"You and mom, you didn't get along in school and only got together at the end of your sixth year." Harry was glad that Remus had told him about this, though it did not seem to be enough for James, so he searched his mind again for a memory he might be able to use. "Mom does have one sister. Her name's Petunia and she's married to one Vernon Dursley. Together they have one son, Dudley. They live in Privet Drive, Little Whinging in Surrey. You, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew became illegal Animagi to keep Remus Lupin company during the full moon nights. Your nicknames were Prongs, Padfoot, Moony and Wormtail. The four of you were called the Marauders and you've created a map – the Marauders Map. It shows the Hogwarts grounds along with every single person and its whereabouts. You absolutely despise Severus Snape and almost got him killed one time, when Sirius had wanted to lure him into the Shrieking Shack, where Remus was hiding during full moon…"

Harry stopped, his mind running wild. But he remembered nothing else that could convince his father. Everything else he had heard was common knowledge and Harry even doubted that most of the things he had just told James were of any use. James' face only confirmed his suspicion.

"Those were all things everyone could have told you, okay, maybe except for the map," James admitted, "but there are other ways of finding out about it. I'm sorry, but you still haven't convinced me."

Harry racked his brain, trying to remember everything that had ever been told him about his parents, when James interrupted his thoughts.

"Everyone in school knew that we called Sirius Padfoot, Remus Moony and Peter Wormtail and that they called me Prongs."

Prongs! Harry's face lit up with a smile and suddenly held his wand in his hand. "Expecto Patronum!" he cried and watched how the silver Patronus was born out of the tip of his wand. If this did not convince James, Harry did not know what else he could try.

The silver glowing stag galloped once around the Quidditch pitch, followed by the awed gaze of James Potter. Eventually it stopped in front of the older Potter and James looked at it disbelieving. He reached out his hand to touch it, but as soon as it connected, the Patronus dissolved into a silvery mist, which was blown away by the wind.

He looked after the mist until it was completely gone, before he turned to Harry with an astounded look on his face and then smiled softly, when he once again took in the young man in front of him. "You really have her eyes…"

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more.

"I got the feeling that she knew the truth ever since she laid her eyes upon you. Dumbledore had come to the hospital wing last night after you had retired to your quarters and asked me to give you another chance or at least go along with their cover story. I had thought that Lily was sleeping, but she didn't, so I had to explain it to her. She then had insisted on coming to breakfast with me, so that she could meet you. She didn't want to listen to me, she only said that a mother would always recognize her child. We had then agreed that she would squeeze my hand, when she thought that your story was true, so that I could talk to you in private."

Again the hand went through his hair. "But even though I had her word that you meant no harm, I needed proof. I mean, she always prides herself that she's a good judge of character, but for a reason that I can't fathom she doesn't like Peter that much, even though he's one of my friends… But now, after having seen your Patronus, seeing that it looks like me, and having Lily's word, I believe you…" James smiled at his son. "I'm sorry that I treated you the way I did, but I hope you do understand that it's better to be safe than sorry in times like these…"

Harry finally released the breath that he had been holding almost the whole time without even noticing it and felt as if the weight on his shoulders had suddenly gotten a huge deal lighter. Even the urge to smoke had lessened, he noticed wryly. "I understand… I shouldn't have attacked Peter. It was wrong… But… thanks… I think…"

"Now that you mention Peter," James said, as he sat down. Harry let his wand slide back into its holster and joined his father on the bench. "Why did you attack him in the first place?"

Harry shrugged, not wanting to reveal to his father that his mother was right in not trusting Wormtail. "We have our difference in my time and don't get along. And I think that after the time travel I was still a bit confused."

"Ahh," his father only said and leaned back on the bench. "Tell me something, about yourself, school… Do you play Quidditch?"

"I do," he answered. "Play Quidditch, I mean. At least in school. I was seeker for the Gryffindor team. There hasn't been much time to play in the last few years with Voldemort and his Death Eaters on the loose."

"I see…" James replied thoughtfully, though a bit of pride was still shining through and then suddenly jumped up from the bench, startling Harry. "What do you think? Before you have to tell everything twice, I invite you to have lunch with Lily and me. I'm sure that she'll be happy to spend some time with you."

"Uhm, okay…" Still a bit surprised by his father's sudden idea, Harry also got up and followed the other young man into the castle and through the corridors until they stopped in front of a painting of a knight and his fat pony. Harry chuckled, as he recognized the painting. The knight's name was Sir Cadogan and he had guarded the entry to the Gryffindor tower while the Fat Lady had been repaired after the attack of Sirius Black in their third year. Sirius had tried to get into the Gryffindor tower to get Ron's rat Scabbers, who, in reality, was none other than Peter Pettigrew, the traitor who had been responsible for James' and Lily's deaths.

"You coming?" he suddenly heard James ask and saw that he was already halfway through the hole. Harry had been so lost in his memories that he had not even noticed that James had said the password. Hesitating slightly, he followed his father through the portrait hole and saw his mother sitting on the deep red couch with a book in her hands as soon as he stepped inside. A small crib stood next to the couch and Harry could make out a mob of messy black hair. "Honey, look whom I've brought home for lunch!"

Lily Potter looked up from her book and her eyes went wide, when she noticed Harry standing uncertainly in front of the portrait. She shot a questioning look at James, who nodded, and then got up, her hands shaking. "You are really my son?"

Harry nodded, his throat suddenly being much too dry for him to speak. His mother was standing directly in front of him, his mother whom he had never met before. Before he knew it, he had a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his neck. His mother was hugging him… His mother was hugging him! Harry's mind seemed to work in slow motion, only now grasping the fact that this was the first hug his mother had given him since he was a baby.

Suddenly she let go of him and looked at him with watery eyes, taking in each and every detail. "I knew it wasn't a lie. The moment I saw you, I knew that you were my son…"

Chapter 11: Disrupted Lunch

Harry could almost swear that he had never had a better lunch before. True, the lunches and other meals at the Burrow and even at Grimmauld Place he had spent with his makeshift family had mostly been interesting and fun, but this one topped it all, because this lunch he was spending with his true family. This feeling was completely new to him (the Dursleys never really counted as family) and yet it already felt as if it belonged, as if it had never been different.

They spent the lunch talking and laughing, their topics ranged from their friends, which Harry approached carefully and a bit reserved, over Hogwarts, classes and teachers, when, in a moment of carelessness, Harry let slip that, much to James' horror ("That slimy git?!"), his Potions and in seventh year also Defence against the Dark Arts teacher had been Snape. Lily had just laughed and said that even though Severus Snape had always been a bit antisocial at school, he was not that bad, as they had had the pleasure of working together on a potion assignment for a couple of weeks and he had always been nice and polite to her, despite her being a muggleborn witch. Harry and his father only looked at each other with expressions of mild disgust on their faces and James decided that it was better to change the topic.

"So Harry, any girlfriends we should know about?"

Harry sputtered and almost spit out the pumpkin juice he had in his mouth, when James popped this question. He felt his face redden, of embarrassment as well as of the force of trying to swallow the juice. He looked at James and saw that the young man was grinning brightly, while his mother was trying to suppress a smile, though he could see the curiosity twinkling in her eyes. "Er… No…"

"No girlfriend?" James asked, mockingly aghast. "With your looks every girl should be at your feet! But there's one you fancy, isn't there?"

"Well," Harry said hesitatingly. As a matter of fact, there was one, but thanks to the ever looming threat that he might not live to see the next day and his dedication to become better and more powerful than Voldemort, he had not yet dared to start dating her. Maybe, when everything was over, when they were back in their own time and Voldemort was defeated, he would ask her out.

"Well?" James raised an eyebrow.

His son sighed and allowed a small smile on his lips, when he thought of her. "There is one. But there hasn't been the opportune moment, yet. In my time, there are right now more important things than finding a girlfriend," he ended gravely.

"Come on, tell us about her… If you don't want to tell us her name, then maybe something else."

"She's about a head smaller than me, smart and she does have a rather mischievous streak. I can talk to her about everything that bothers me and she always gives me some advice. She's a lion at heart, always stands up to others and sometimes it seems to me as if she doesn't fear anything. Oh, and one thing you might like – she was a superb chaser on our house team," Harry added almost as an afterthought.

"A chaser, huh? Best position on the whole team, if you ask me." James looked at him daringly.

"Is that so? Well, I prefer playing seeker." Happy that they had found another topic to talk about, Harry accepted the dare and so they got into a playful argument about which position was better and more important – chaser or seeker.

Lily watched the whole exchange with a smile on her face, until little Harry announced with a loud wail that he was in desperate need of some attention. She stood up and gathered him in his arms. The baby quieted down immediately. She then walked up to Harry – he and James had stopped arguing when they had heard the cry – and sat down next to him on the couch. "Do you want to hold him?"

A look of pure terror must have passed on his face, because James once again started to laugh and Lily only smiled at him softly. "I- uhm, I don't know. I've never held a baby before…"

"There's a first time for everything," Lily said and carefully put the infant into his older self's arms.

Harry was at a loss of what to do now. He did not dare to move, out of fear to crush or break his baby-self. "Don't worry!" James still laughed. "He isn't made of glass. You can hold him a bit closer."

Doing what James had said, he pulled him (himself!) a bit closer and looked down into a pair of emerald eyes. Harry could swear that the baby recognized him, which was, of course, impossible, since the baby was not even able to see properly yet. He smiled, when the little boy yawned and marvelled at how he had looked as a baby. The messy mob of black hair on the head and the eyes were definitely his. But one thing, Harry thought, was missing. And that was the lightning bolt scar on the baby's forehead. Technically the boy would receive this scar in about one year and a couple of months, but not if Harry had a say in this!

Suddenly the portrait swung open and three men, laden with plenty of colourfully wrapped presents, were about to storm into the room, but stopped dead in their tracks, when their eyes landed on Harry holding the baby. A small present, wrapped in blue paper with golden stars on it, fell from the stack and hit the floor with a loud 'Moo!'. Other presents followed suite, when Sirius Black got over the initial shock and whipped out his wand. "What are you doing here?"

"It's okay, Sirius," James said, as he stepped up to his friend. "I invited him over for lunch."

"You what?" the black-haired man sputtered. By now Remus and Peter had also discarded the presents they had been carrying and were pointing their wands at Harry, though Harry noticed that Peter's hand was shaking badly and that Remus was studying him with a thoughtful expression on his face, always gazing between him and the baby. "Are you crazy? This guy's a Death Eater!"

"No, he's not," they suddenly heard a new voice behind them and saw Arthur Weasley and his wife Molly enter the room. "Lower your wands, please, there's absolutely no reason for this."

"You too, Arthur?" Sirius asked appalled.

"M-maybe h-he put t-them under the I-Imperius C-Curse," Peter stuttered.

Sighing, Harry handed his baby-self back to Lily, who then put him back into the crib. It would be better, if his hands were free of any burden in case the situation escalated. And escalate it would, if Sirius kept up like this.

"Listen, none of us here in this room is under the Imperius. There have just been some unexpected revelations, that's all. You see…" James threw a quick glance at Arthur, asking for a bit of help to convince them.

"This young man here is a distant relative of James, and his red-haired friend is a distant cousin of me. I know, this sounds unbelievable, especially when you hear their names, but I assure you that they mean no harm."

"What Arthur is talking about," Lily now said, "is that they found out about open teaching spots through him and wanted to come to the Burrow before they went to Hogwarts. However, due to the threats of the Death Eaters and the attacks, we all forgot about this and mistook them for Death Eaters, especially since the correspondence had been limited to owls."

Harry saw Arthur and James nodding, while Molly was looking between the baby in the crib and him in wonder. He also noticed that Remus was following her gaze and that suddenly a look of understanding passed on his face. The werewolf smiled at Harry and lowered his wand, much to Sirius' and Peter's surprise.

"What are you doing?" Sirius hissed.

"I believe James and Arthur that he and his friends mean no harm," he replied simply. "Besides, if Albus trusts them enough to employ them as teachers, I think we should, too. Nice to meet you." He then walked up to Harry and extended his hand, which he shook relieved. "I'm Remus Lupin and my suspicious friends are Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, if you didn't know yet."

"Harry Potter," Harry answered, smirking at the shocked and surprised faces of Sirius and Peter.

"I told you that their names might surprise you," Arthur said smiling, as he clapped on Harry's shoulder. "My cousin is called Ron, just as my youngest." Harry returned the smile, thanking him silently as he started to relax. "Albus invited Molly and me to stay over dinner tonight. Molly can't wait to meet Ron," he then told the young man.

Growling, Sirius also finally put the wand into his pocket and Peter followed his example. "Okay, but only because you trust him, James."

"Fabulous!" Arthur Weasley exclaimed. "Now that all problems are solved, I think we're here to congratulate Lily and James to their first child and spoil the kid with plenty of presents!"

"You're right, Arthur," Sirius said, with slightly forced cheerfulness and picked up the mooing present. "So, James, Lily, where's my godson?"

Harry, who now started to feel a bit out of place, as everyone else gathered around the crib and cooed at the baby, gave James and Lily a quick wave and mouthed goodbye before he left the room. As soon as the portrait of Sir Cadogan closed behind him ("Stay and fight you coward!") Harry let out a deep breath. That was close. If Sirius and his father had not been best friends, he was sure that a fight would have broken out.

Now that he was standing in front of the portrait, Harry did not quite know what to do now. He did not feel like going back to their chambers already nor to the library, because he was pretty sure that he would meet Hermione there and what he needed right now was some time alone. So he opted to take a walk around the castle to see if there are any major differences to their time he and the others ought to know.

While he was walking, Harry noticed that the castle was unusual silent. He half expected the doors to the classrooms to open and masses of students to rush out of them to their next class. The only times he had known the castle to be nearly as quiet and deserted as now had been during the Christmas breaks that he had spent at Hogwarts. And even then you would have met at least one or two students in the hallways.

Harry wandered through both familiar and unfamiliar corridors, over moving staircases, past his old classrooms and stopped shortly, when he was suddenly standing in front of the empty portrait of the Fat Lady. The urge to take a look inside the Gryffindor common room and the dormitories was big, but neither could he enter, without the Fat Lady to grant him access nor did he know the password – Did he as teacher even need a password? Harry had no idea.

Sighing, he let his feet carry him through more hallways, first stopping when he was standing in a classroom – the classroom for Defence against the Dark Arts. His classroom. In about four weeks this classroom would be filled with students of all seven years, expecting to learn something about the Dark Arts and the defence against them. Once again, doubts started to nag at the back of his mind. He absolutely could not see himself as teacher. The DA had been different – there he had been teaching fellow students, but in four weeks he was supposed to stand before a whole class of people he had never seen before. Give him a couple of Death Eaters and he would be fine, but give him a couple of students and he would freak.

Would they see him like he had seen Quirrel, who knew something about the Dark Arts but had not really been a capable teacher (apart from the fact that Voldemort had been sitting at the back of his head), Lockhart, who had been an absolute moron and knew nothing except for the memory charm, or Lupin, the best teacher they had had until then? Then there had been Barthy Crouch junior, who had posed as Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, but from whom they had truly learned something about curses and Dolores Umbridge, the Ministry official, who had been making his fifth year at Hogwarts hell with purely theoretical lessons, countless detentions, his and the Weasley twins' ban from Quidditch and the prohibition of the DA. The woman, who had driven Dumbledore and Hagrid from Hogwarts and whom he partly blamed for Sirius' death. No, he did not want to be compared to this foul woman. He would arrange his lessons more like the ones of Lupin, Moody/Crouch and maybe a bit like Viktor Krum's, who had had to give up his career as Quidditch player because of a permanent injury of his spine after an accident during the finale of the Olympic Wizarding Games. Despite all reservations of the students at first, he had shown his knowledge of the Dark Arts in their sixth year, but had also resigned at the end of the year due to personal reasons. However, their seventh year had been special. Harry did not know if he should shudder at the thought or not, because no matter how much he disliked Severus Snape, he had been the one who had taught them all they needed to know to pass the NEWTs with at least an 'E' (Exceeded Expectations) or an 'O' (Outstanding) and more to prepare them for the war waging outside of the secure walls of Hogwarts.

No, Harry told himself resolutely. He would be a good teacher. The students would look up to him like he and his schoolmates had looked up to Lupin, Moody/Crouch, Krum and in the end Snape. He would prepare them for the world outside, would teach him everything he knew and most of all, he decided, he would make them face their fears and fight them. They would leave this classroom at the end of a class and be able to use what he had taught them, if they were ever attacked.

In his mind a plan started to form. He would soon need to make a visit to the library and Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade to find suitable books and what else he needed for his lessons. With this thought in mind, Harry left the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom. Voldemort, be warned.

~*~

Back in the common room, Harry found Ron hunched over a catalogue of Quidditch supplies, looking at different types of brooms. "Hey Harry," his best friend greeted him. "Where've you been?"

"I had lunch with my parents," he replied smiling and sat down next to him, also taking a look at the catalogue.

"So they believe you?" Ron asked hopefully. When Harry nodded, Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "Good for you, mate."

"Yeah… I also met your parents. They will stay over dinner tonight."

"Oh…okay," Ron said, momentarily taken aback.

"Don't worry, you know that the only thing your mum might do is hugging you to death."

"That's exactly, what I'm afraid of…" he muttered.

Harry snickered, before Ron's glare shut him up. "By the way, where are Hermione and Draco?"

"Hermione is in the library, I think. And Malfoy went to check out the potion supplies in his office to see, if he needs to buy anything for the coming term. I think we all should plan a trip to Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley soon. I'm pretty sure that Hermione needs a lot of books and I need a good broom for my classes. What about you?" Ron wanted to know.

"I also thought about buying some books and I also need to find a book for the students. And a broom doesn't sound too bad. I guess, Draco will agree. Is there anything interesting in there?" he asked.

"Well, here's the very first Nimbus, but I heard that the first ones of the series aren't that good. The Cleansweep series sounds better, but there's also a broom called Thunderbolt. It's from the same manufacturer as your Firebolt. We should really check them out at Quality Quidditch Supplies…"

A/N: Sorry, this actually took again a bit longer than I thought… But here it is now! Have fun with this chapter!

Chapter 12: Diagon Alley

He was standing in front of a house, five black robed and white masked Death Eaters at each side of him. Suddenly, from one second to another, the building went up in green flames and the Dark Mark appeared floating above it. At the sight of this, a shrill and cruel laugh went over his lips and a feeling of true delight welled up in his chest. The Muggles living in this house were still inside with no way to escape and he could hear their screams, as they tried to open the doors and windows that his faithful Death Eaters had locked with charms. He could see them, standing in front of the window of the front door, a married couple and a teenage boy, staring at him and his servants in horror, as they were engulfed in bright green flames and died, slowly and painfully.

Harry woke up with a start, his heart pounding hard against his chest and his scar burning like fire. Sweat was pouring down his face, as the picture of he three Muggles flashed in front of his eyes and Voldemort's piercing laughter penetrated his ears. He lay still for a couple of minutes, trying to catch his breath. He had not been prepared for this, had not been prepared to once again see the terror of Voldemort's reign so soon. He had not been prepared to see innocent Muggles die.

It was still dark in the room, meaning that it was sometime in the middle of the night. Harry rolled over in his bed, trying to block out the memories of his vision and to ignore the throbbing pain in his scar. He did not want to think about what he had witnessed just minutes ago – the Muggles were dead and there was nothing he could do to change that. He needed to go back to sleep, to rest a bit, because he and the other time travellers wanted to go to Diagon Alley that day.

It was Wednesday, August 6, 1980, they had been in the past for almost a week and in that week they had adjusted quite well. Hermione had immediately found a good colleague in Christophe Hayden, the Muggle Studies teacher and spent a lot of time with or without him in the library. As usual, she wanted her lessons to be perfect and so she put a lot of work into the lesson plans.

The dinner with Ron's parents had gone quite well, regarding the circumstances that no one except for the Potters and the Weasleys knew the truth about the four time travellers. Molly Weasley had almost crushed the cousin of her husband in a hug, as she had first seen him. Later, after dinner, the three of them had spent some quality time alone and talked about random things. Molly and Arthur had left late that night, promising to be back sometime soon, and Ron had stepped into the common room with a grin on his face. From the following day on, he had started to spend much time either planning his lessons as well or trying out and replenishing the school brooms with much care. He did not want his students to learn how to fly under adverse circumstances, nor did he want to encourage accidents during Quidditch matches, when the students were using school brooms that had been neglected.

In the last week, Harry had used his parents' presence at Hogwarts to its fullest and spent many hours with them, either just talking or sitting in silence and watching little Harry. He and his father had yet to mount their brooms to test the other's skills at Quidditch. The rest of the time, he prepared a rough outline for his lessons plan, first being able to note down the finer points when he had found the books he wanted to use in his classes. Sometimes Harry joined Ron on the Quidditch field, testing out the brooms and getting into improvised Quidditch matches, at which even Draco had participated once or twice.

Most of the other times Draco was either locked up in this office in the dungeons or had his nose buried in yet another book about potions, be it in the common room or in the library. He did not talk much or interacted with the others. He was not in the mood for yet another row with Weasley or being constantly bugged by Granger or Potter. It made him sick to hear Weasley talk about his parents and how happy he was that they knew the truth, to see Potter return from every meeting with his parents with a happy grin on his face, nor to see Granger walking through the corridors talking and laughing with this Hayden. He could not stand it, so he rather kept to himself.

~*~

Harry did not know when, but he had somehow managed to fall asleep again after his vision. However, Hermione pounding on his door and yelling at him to get up now roughly woke him up. Luckily, his scar did not hurt anymore and yet he was as tired as if he had not slept at all that night. The last few hours had been dreamless, but now that he was awake, he could again envision the Muggles, how they were dying a gruesome death. Shaking his head, Harry groggily sat up and yelled, "I'm awake!" He would rather slip back under the covers and sleep a few more hours, but a quick glance at his watch on the nightstand told him that it was already eight forty – their portkey to Diagon Alley was to be activated at nine o'clock.

Cursing, he nearly jumped out of the bed, grabbed his in the meantime cleaned Muggle clothes and disappeared in the bathroom. It was ten to nine, when Harry finally stepped into the common room, with his robe quickly thrown over his shoulders and muttered a small 'Sorry' and 'We can go' to his friends, who were already waiting for him, with half-amused and half-annoyed looks on their faces. They followed Harry out of the common room and headed to Dumbledore's office, from where they would travel to London.

As soon as they stopped in front of the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the office, Harry panted, "Chocolate Chip Cookies," and the gargoyle sprang aside, revealing the spiral staircase.

Dumbledore was already waiting for them with a mischievous smile on his face and gave them the portkey, an old and obviously well loved teddy bear. "Please, don't forget to bring him back to me. I'm rather fond of him," he said. "Oh, and before I forget – I was so free to open an account at Gringotts for each of you and to transfer your first salary for this month into your vaults. The keys to them are deposited at Gringotts and you just need to sign some forms to get them. Have a nice day!"

Just as Dumbledore had finished the sentence, the four of them felt the familiar tug behind their navels and arrived at the portkey station at Diagon Alley. Harry gave the teddy bear to one of the clerks for safekeeping until it activated again at five o’clock in the afternoon for their return to Hogwarts.

Harry had to blink a few times for his eyes to adjust to the glaring sunlight, as they stepped out of the station. His heart immediately soared a bit, as he took in the familiar sights of Diagon Alley, but also noticed some stores that did not exist in his time. Even though it was still quite early, busy witches and wizard and also people in Muggle clothes were roaming the street. Smiling, he watched children pulling their parents into Gambol & Japes or demanding to go to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and the awed looks of Muggles, as they took in the scenery of Diagon Alley. They must be here to get a first impression of the wizarding world, Harry thought, because since neither he nor his friends had decided on a book for the students yet, the Hogwarts letters could not have gone out yet.

At first, they decided to go to Gringotts Wizarding Bank, because even though each of them had had some money on him or her during their unintended trip to the past, it would never be enough to purchase everything they needed. Once there, they had to wait a few minutes in a long line and then sign some forms, as Dumbledore had already told them, before the goblin at the counter gave them their keys and called another goblin (Grashnak) to bring them to their vaults. Fortunately, the four vaults were all next to each other (762-765), so they quickly gathered as many Galleons, Sickles and Knuts as they needed and then went back to the surface. Harry thought that though the amount of money in that vault was absolutely nothing compared to the amount of money in his vault in their time, Dumbledore had been quite generous with their first salary and silently wondered, if the other teachers all earned that much. Before they left Gringotts, Harry told his friends to wait for him, as he went to a free counter to exchange some of his wizarding money into pounds.

Their next destination was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, as they could not walk around in borrowed and transfigured robes all the time at school. The moment they stepped inside, Madam Malkin, the squat, smiling owner of the store, came up to them. "Can I help you, dears?"

"Yes, I think you can. We're looking for different sets of robes," Hermione told her.

"Of course. Melanie, can you please help me here?" Madam Malkin asked her assistant and whisked Ron and Harry to a few racks, while her colleague went up to Hermione and Draco. They all chose robes for teaching and for casual wear and also a set of dress robes. One time, Harry and Draco, who had two cabins facing each other, stepped out at the same time, wearing exactly the same dark green robes. They both stared at each other and immediately turned around, trying on the next robe. In the end, the four of them were sporting bags filled to the brim with robes and left the shop.

Since none of them had had any breakfast, they decided to go to the Leaky Cauldron, to get some late breakfast or early lunch, but on the way there, Draco announced that he wanted to go to the Apothecary first to stock up his potion supplies.

While, Harry, Ron and Hermione were waiting outside, Harry suddenly noticed a petite, ashblond and obviously pregnant woman that seemed somehow familiar to him, holding a small, black-haired girl at her hand. Harry could swear that he had seen her before, but could not say when or where. His eyes followed her, until she disappeared in the crowd and an exasperated sigh coming from Hermione pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Oh honestly…"

"What is it?" Ron asked surprised.

"We're being followed." Hermione motioned with her head to a small dark alley between two stores, where a large, black dog disappeared in. Harry and Ron just saw how the dog became one with the darkness and Harry sighed as well.

"Sirius…"

"What are you looking at?" Draco wanted to know, as he came out of the Apothecary.

While they were walking towards the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione filled Draco in about them being followed by Sirius in his Animagus form. At the inn, they sat down at a free table and Harry looked around for Tom, the innkeeper, until his gaze landed on the front page of the Daily Prophet that one of the other customers was reading. The headline read Another Attack of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on Muggles and Muggleborns and next to the article was a picture of an all-too-familiar house engulfed in green flames and the Dark Mark. Harry's stomach churned – this was the house from his dream.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked concerned, when she saw the pale look on his face and then turned around to see what he was looking at. "Oh…"

At that moment, Tom appeared at their table, ready to take their orders. While the others ordered some lunch to satisfy their growling stomachs, Harry only ordered a glass of water, not feeling hungry anymore after seeing the picture and remembering again his vision from last night. The others still did not know that his connection to Voldemort was still there, only that this time he was connected to the Voldemort of this time.

When their meals and Harry's water were served, he only sipped at his drink, ignoring the concerned looks of Hermione and Ron. They ate mostly in silence and after about five minutes, Harry suddenly got up. "Sorry guys, don't let yourself be bothered. But I wanted to take a small trip to Muggle London to buy some Muggle clothes. I won't be long…" Without waiting for an answer, he left the suffocating air of the Leaky Cauldron and stepped into the fresh summer's air of London. Looking around, he spotted a sign of an H&M store at the corner and went to it without a second thought. He silently wondered, what kind of clothes he would encounter there, since he did not really know what people in this time wore.

Inside, he was immediately taken aback by loud punk music and the fashion. Pastel-coloured sweatshirts, gigantic shoulder pads and glittery tops were practically all he could see. Browsing through the racks, he finally stumbled over jeans and rather normal looking shirts and T-shirts. He also found some black slacks and a denim jacket. After having tried on and decided for some of the clothes, he wanted to pay, when he suddenly spotted a long black leather duster hanging in a corner. Harry went over to it, shrugged it on and felt the soft and resistant leather. Ever since he had first seen one of those, he had wanted one and now was his chance, no matter what his friends would say, when they saw him wearing this. He looked at the price tag and sighed with relief, when he saw that it was on sale. Taking it off, he put it over his arm and went to the front to pay for his purchases. The Muggle at the cash register looked at him a bit strangely and he realized that he was still wearing his robes. Ignoring the look, he paid, took the bag with the clothes, happy that he would be able to shrink them as soon as he was back in the magical world, and left the store, heading back to the Leaky Cauldron. Just as he wanted to open the door to the inn, he again saw the black dog, this time standing openly on the other side of the street and could only shake his head. Why couldn't Sirius just let it go? Wasn't his father's word enough to prove that they weren't a threat?

Back at the inn, he saw that his friends had just finished their lunch and sat down on his chair. No one said anything and they called for Tom to pay. Only a few minutes later they were back at Diagon Alley and Hermione parted ways with the three young men. They wanted to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies to get new brooms and Hermione wanted to buy something else. "Something that might be of use for all of us," she had said and left, muttering about boys and their obsessions with Quidditch.

Harry, Ron and Draco went to the Quidditch store, where, as usual, a bunch of children was standing in front of the shop window, admiring the newest broom on the market. Even the three young men could not resist taking a look at it and saw that it was the Thunderbolt that Ron had already talked about. Harry thought that it looked a bit like his trusty old Firebolt and wondered, if it would also be similar in the handling.

They entered the shop and immediately started to browse, testing some promising looking brooms, but Harry's mind always wandered back to the displayed broom in the front. It was pretty expensive and he asked himself, if he should already spend so much money on a broom, when they still had to purchase so many other things. But it would be good to have something that reminded him from where he came from and besides, they were all used to much better and more developed brooms and they might need the best, if they were somehow becoming involved in the war.

Ron and Draco seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because they only exchanged a quick look with Harry and then went to one of the clerks, asking to test the Thunderbolt. One hour later, the three of them emerged each with a wrapped Thunderbolt, leaving behind a very happy storeowner counting his money. Ron had also bought a complete Quidditch gear, which he needed as his position as referee during the matches at school, and a book about the Chudley Cannons. "It's a rarity! You have no idea how long I've been looking for this one at home!"

Just at the moment that they wanted to go looking for her, Hermione came running towards them, carrying an empty cage. "I bought an owl," she told them. "I already sent him to Hogwarts, so that he won't get in the way, while we're at Flourish and Blott's."

So that was their next destination and immediately each of them went to the area where they found the books they needed, agreeing to meet outside, when they're finished. The store was filled with all kinds of people and Harry was somehow glad that the Hogwarts letters had not gone out yet, since it would then be full of students getting their schoolbooks.

While he was looking through various Defence Against the Dark Arts books, he suddenly saw the mysterious woman and the girl on the other side of the shelves. He watched through a gap between the books how she was talking to a brunette woman – a friend of hers he supposed. Harry did not want to eavesdrop, but he could not help himself, so, pretending to read the book he was currently holding, he listened to the words the two women exchanged.

Now and then he looked up and noticed that the woman was probably only one or two years older than him, whereas the girl looked to be about three years old. The woman's ashblond hair was going down to her shoulder blades in a thick braid and she had laughing blue eyes. She was about 5'5" of height, not outstanding gorgeous, but pretty in her own, somehow shy and well… pregnant way. He guessed that she was in her sixth or seventh month. The girl had straight, jet black hair that went down to her shoulders and the blue eyes of her mother.

"Say Clara, where's your husband?" he heard the brunette asking.

"We came to Diagon Alley together," the woman, Clara, answered. "But he had to attend some business, so he left me and Jocelyn to do some shopping."

Neither the names nor the fact that she was married meant anything to Harry and yet he could not shake off this feeling that he knew this woman. The two friends said goodbye and while the brown-haired woman left the store, Clara went to the back with her daughter to the children section.

Shaking his head, Harry turned his attention back to the book in his hands. He was probably mistaking her for someone else he had seen in his time. Slowly, after having taken a look at probably every single book on the shelves, he gathered the chosen schoolbooks as well as some books for his private collection and went to the back of the line leading up to the cash desk. There he saw her again at the desk, talking to the clerk and once again he strained his ears to catch bits and pieces of the conversation. Harry wished he had one of Fred and George's Extendable Ears, because it was hard to understand anything at all above the noise in the store.

"The books your husband ordered should arrive next week," Harry heard him say. He concentrated closer, but what he said next left Harry stunned and he doubted if he had heard right or just imagined it. According to what he had heard, the clerk had said, "Have a nice day, Mrs. Snape."

Harry watched her passing him with a dazed look on his face, until the customer behind him told him to move along.

Harry was the first one to leave the shop and his watch told him that he had spent about two and a half hours in there. He sat down on a bench and leaned back, enjoying the sun on his face. When he had already needed that long, he did not want to know how long Hermione would need. He was only surprised that Ron was not finished already, since he was usually the first one who would willingly leave a bookstore.

However, this was not what bothered him most. The only thing bothering him at that moment was actually what he had just heard inside. Mrs. Snape? This could not be right. He had never heard Snape talking about any relatives before – well, he had never heard Snape talking about his personal life before, so no surprise here. She did not look like him at all, so it was highly improbable that she was his sister. The only one looking even remotely like him was the girl… Bloody hell! Harry thought as he realized what this might mean. That girl could be his daughter, but that meant that this woman must be his wife!

"Hey mate, what are you thinking about?" Ron asked, as he came up to him and saw the utterly shocked look on his friend's face.

"Nothing." Harry shook his head. "Nothing… Just wondered what you were doing so long inside a bookshop," he said grinning, trying to change the subject. He did not need to tell him about his suspicions, at least not until he found some proof.

"Buying books?" Ron showed him the heavy bag he was carrying and sat down next to him on the bench.

The two friends talked for about fifteen minutes, when Draco joined them. He also told them that he had seen Hermione, still completely enrapt by a couple of books and that it would take some more time until she would come out. So they sat there and waited. Another half an hour later, Harry treated them to a large sundae and when they had eaten the ice cream, Hermione had still not come out of the bookshop. It was already past half past four, not even half an hour before their portkey would be activated, when she finally emerged from the store, carrying two bottomless bags that seemed to brim over in each hand.

"Sorry guys, but I couldn't resist. We should hurry now…" She looked at them with an apologetic look on her face and Harry and Ron sighed, while Draco only looked annoyed. Hermione would probably never change.

Due to the number of people roaming the street, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco arrived at the station with only five minutes to spare. They hurried to the clerk they had given their portkey and at five o'clock they were whisked away back to Dumbledore's office and landed, thanks to Hermione's bags, which she unfortunately had not shrunken, in a tumbled heap. The old wizard was once again waiting for them and a small grin appeared on his face, when he saw their dishevelled forms and red faces.

"How was your day? Did you get everything you needed?" he asked them, as they scrambled to get back up.

"Yeah," Ron grunted and handed Dumbledore the teddy bear, while Draco and Hermione glared at each other. "We got everything…"

"That's good. I also hope you're hungry, because dinner will be served in half an hour."

"Thank you Professor," Harry said. "We'll be there, but I think it will be better if we first bring our purchases to our rooms."

"Well then, I'll see you at dinner."

Nodding, the four of them left the office and walked back to the common room, Draco and Hermione still glaring.

"Next time Granger, shrink your bloody books! Have you any idea how much it hurts when a whole bag hits against your shinbone?" Draco growled.

"Get a grip, Mal- Draco! It can't have hurt that much!" she only replied and stalked off, being the first at the portrait to their entrance. "Future's past." The portrait swung open and Hermione went inside, dropping her bags on the floor and sitting down at the table before taking the Daily Prophet out of one of the bags. At the same moment that she had put the newspaper on the table, the three young men entered, all of them dropping their bags as well and sitting down in the armchairs or on the couch.

"You're going to tell us what it's saying?" Draco asked, still sounding annoyed.

Hermione sighed and started to read.

Another Attack of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on Muggles and Muggleborns

You-know-who and several of his Death Eaters burning down a Muggle house in Cardiff, Wales

At about three o'clock in the morning, You-know-who and his Death Eater appeared in the city Cardiff, Wales and set the house of the Muggle family Prescott aflame. Before the attack the Death Eaters performed locking charms on every door and window of the house, making it impossible for the family to flee. Mr. and Mrs. Prescott had just returned from a vacation in Prague, a neighbour told an Auror, before he placed a memory charm on her. Their son, Tony Prescott, was about to start his seventh year at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, this September. It is a terrible tragedy that again Muggles and Muggleborns had to suffer the reign of terror of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the Prophet wonders, if this attack is somehow connected to the appearance of the four strangers at the home of Ministry worker Arthur Weasley one week ago and their sudden employment by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore as teachers for the subjects Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions and Flying. The Prophet will keep you informed about further attacks and the further happenings at Hogwarts.

Other attacks on Muggles – p. 2, 5 and 9

Hogwarts – is it still safe? - p. 3 and 7

This article was written by: R. Montgomery

"This is terrible," Ron said, as he leaned back on the couch.

"It is, but it's war," Hermione agreed, casting a quick look at Harry, who looked incredibly pale. "We should probably head to dinner," she added, after they had sat in silence for a couple of minutes. The others agreed and together they left their common room.

The house-elves had once again outdone themselves, Harry thought, as he looked at the food, but once again he could not bring himself to eat anything. He looked to his left and right and saw the amounts of food Ron was piling on his plate and that Hermione and Draco also ate normally. Well, they had not seen what he had seen. They had not been there, as the Prescotts had died in the flames. They had not felt the happiness surging through their bodies. They just thought that the Prescotts and their son Tony were other casualties of the war. This was true, but every person that died was one person too many. Harry had already too much blood on his hands and he did not want to add more.

Claiming that he was tired, Harry left the Great Hall before anyone else did and went to his room. But instead of going straight to bed, he took out his new books and started to read, until sleep finally claimed him. This night, he did not visit Voldemort's mind.

A/N: Once again thank you for your reviews! You guys are the best! I’m only sorry that I don’t know, when the next chapter will be out, since I’m going to have my final examination next weeks and I get the feeling that I still have to do a lot of studying, so that’s what I’m doing mostly nowadays… Unfortunately this means that I don’t have much time to write or even post already existing chapters, since I reread every chapter before I post it here, hoping to delete mistakes that I have overlooked the first time I read this…

I hope that this chapter will be enough for you for now, especially since it is rather long! Have fun!

Chapter 13: Of lies and protective instincts

Two brooms were zooming around the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with their riders, racing back and forth as if chasing something. Suddenly, the leading broom was jerked to the left and urged into a dive long before the second one could react. Seeing that there was no chance of catching up at all, the second rider slowly flew to the ground, where the first had just landed, clutching a small golden ball in his hands.

Harry Potter stood on the ground, broom in one and the struggling Golden Snitch in the other hand, watching with a smug grin on his face how his father slowly touched down next to him.

"Now I know why I've never even tried out for Seeker," he said, as he got off the broom and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "My reflexes might be good, but spying the Snitch, in the chaos of a game nonetheless, would have been impossible. I'd rather prefer the Quaffle – large, handy and most of all visible for the normal eye."

Harry shrugged and rubbed a few sore ribs. "At least you don't get the wind knocked out of you as Seeker, when you know how to dodge the Bludgers, mind you. I think there'll be bruises tomorrow, where you hit me with the Quaffle."

"Well, it's not my fault that you're not able to catch a ball of this size," James laughed.

It had taken almost one month until Harry and James finally found time to test each other's skills at Quidditch. This Monday was the last day at Hogwarts before James and Lily wanted to leave the castle to live in their own house. The students would return the following day and they thought that they had stayed long enough. So father and son used this sunny afternoon to its fullest and mounted their brooms, with Lily and little Harry watching them. Lily had been furious, when James had suddenly halted next to her and taken one-month-old Harry on a few laps around the pitch. Harry thought that this had been a sight to behold – his mother stomping with her feet and yelling at his father, while little Harry was squealing with delight.

And once again he wished that everything would have been different for him. He wished that Voldemort had not killed his parents. Not for the first time he wished to be a normal young man, a normal wizard without the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. But he had had no say in this. Voldemort had chosen him instead of Neville, killed his parents and destroyed any chance of ever being normal that he had ever had.

"Are you alright?"

Harry looked up, having been torn out of his thoughts by his father. He forced a smile on his face and nodded. "I'm alright. Just been thinking, that's all." Letting his gaze wander around, he saw Lily, who was holding something in her right hand and waving at them. "Seems like she wants us to come to her," he said, glad that his mother had given him the possibility to avoid any questions his father might have.

"Well, then we shouldn't let her wait any longer," James replied and together they made their way across the Quidditch pitch to where Lily, who was still holding Harry, was standing.

"This just arrived," Lily said and showed them the piece of parchment, as they stopped in front of her. "It's from Albus. He wishes to see the three of us in his office. Now," she added with a small smile gracing her lips, when she saw the regretful look James and Harry were giving their brooms.

The two young men sighed in unison and Harry put the Golden Snitch back into the trunk, where the struggling Bludgers and the Quaffle where already stored. Harry quickly brought the trunk back to the changing rooms before he joined his parents in front of the main entrance and they walked to Dumbledore's office. James just wanted to tell the gargoyle the password, as it already sprung aside and a man all three of them knew too well came walking down the stairs. Harry felt his father tense remarkably, while his mother still smiled. He himself clearly did not know how to react, because in front of him was standing none other than Severus Snape.

"Potter," he drawled, focusing on James, after he had let his eyes wander over Lily, her little son and Harry.

"Snivellus. How endearing to meet you here. I never expected to see you again at Hogwarts, so care to tell me what you are doing here?"

"This is not your business, Potter. Or," he said, as his gaze rested on Harry, "maybe it is. If you excuse me, I'm expected."

Without saying another word, Snape pushed past them, but in those few minutes Harry had noticed some astounding differences between this Snape and the Snape in his time. The most prominent difference was clearly that the black hair of this Snape was shiny, clean and elegantly tied back, a bit like his own, only that his were still incredibly messy, Harry thought, as he absentmindedly ran his left hand through his windswept hair that absolutely refused to remain in the hair-band. A few strands always fell out and into his face, but Harry had learned to live with this – at least those strands covered his scar a bit. However, another noticeable difference between the two Snapes were the eyes. While Snape's eyes in Harry's time were usually cold, calculating and bitter, the eyes of the other Snape still held some warmth. Only the sneer was the same, but this could be due to the dislike towards Harry and James respectively.

"Probably expected by his fellow Death Eaters," James muttered, pulling Harry out of his thoughts.

Lily put a comforting hand on her husband's shoulder. "Leave him, James. We should hurry, Albus is waiting," she said, motioning with her head to the still open staircase.

"You're right," James sighed and smiled at his wife. "Harry?"

"I'm coming," he told them and turned his head to them, away from the corridor where Snape had disappeared in. Another question had been formed in his head – was Snape already a spy for Dumbledore or was he still loyal to Voldemort? Was he even a Death Eater at this time or would he still become one? Suddenly the memory of a blond woman and a black-haired girl penetrated his thoughts – he had completely forgotten about them. He still had not found time to find out who they were, but vowed that he would make up for it soon. Maybe they were the key to answer his questions.

Hearing his father clearing his throat, Harry smiled at him apologetically and followed his parents up the stairs into Dumbledore's office. The old wizard was already seated behind his desk and three chairs were standing in front of it. The three of them sat down and after having declined the obligatory offer of a sherbet lemon, James spoke the question that was on his mind.

"What did Snape want?"

Albus Dumbledore gave James a look that clearly told him that he did not agree with the hateful and accusatory tone of James' voice, but answered his question nonetheless. "Mr. Snape had been here to apply for the post as professor for Defence against the Dark Arts. I had to tell him of course that this position was already taken. Yet, I assured him I would inform him as soon as a position that meets his requirements is open. However, this is not what I wished to discuss with you."

"It's because we are returning to Godric's Hollow tomorrow, isn't it?" Lily wanted to know.

"Indeed it is. I set up some additional wards around your property for your protection."

"I'm sorry, if I appear rude," James said confused, "but why? I think Lily and I have proven on more than one occasion that we are able to defend ourselves against Death Eaters and even Voldemort himself."

"Believe me, James, I know that. But it's not just because of you. It's also because of your son. Even while Lily was pregnant, she had been able to defend herself, but now that you have to look after one more person, a person who cannot defend himself at all, I deemed it necessary to improve the protection around your house. I assure you, those additional wards are only precautions, only a special kind of repelling charm, an alarming charm to let me know, when someone unbidden had found a way to avoid the repelling charm and so on. You see, nothing overly severe. But, if something grave happens that might endanger your safety, we have to take more serious measures."

"What do you mean?" Lily asked, and Harry could swear that she had a hard time to keep the worry that he could see on her face out of her voice. He, however, thought he knew what Dumbledore was talking about, but that he obviously wanted to wait to take this action made him question his intentions. Harry had thought that Dumbledore wanted to talk to his parents about the prophecy, but instead he let it sound as if nothing was wrong and that he had just erected the wards as preventative measure, just in case Voldemort decided to attack them.

"I'm talking about the Fidelius Charm – I assume you know about this charm?" Lily and James both nodded, while James gave Lily's hand a small squeeze. "But that's just if something happens, so I don't want you to think about this yet. Another thing I wanted to talk to you about, and this is now the reason why I asked Harry to attend this meeting, is the correspondence between Hogwarts and Godric's Hollow. I'm sure you and Harry wish to have as much contact as possible, so I want to warn you to be careful what to put in your letters. The consequences, if anything about your true relation gets in the hands of a Death Eater, would be disastrous, but I think you know that already."

"Of course, Albus, we'll be careful," Lily assured him with a smile on her face.

"Fabulous, that was all I wanted to discuss with you. You can go back now to whatever you were doing before I interrupted," Dumbledore told them with the ever-present twinkle in his eyes.

"You go ahead," Harry said, as James and Lily stood up. "I still need to talk to Albus about something…"

"Okay, we'll see you later," James called, as he and his wife left the office.

Before the door closed, Harry thought he heard them talking about helping someone with a thing, but did not think about it further, because now that they were alone he finally could take him to task about his intentions towards his parents.

"You didn't tell them", he said calmly and looked Dumbledore directly in the eyes.

"No, I didn't. They don't need to know yet, it's too early."

"Too early?" Harry asked outraged, as he jumped up and began to pace in the office. "You know that a part of the prophecy had been overheard, but still you don't tell them! Voldemort might already be planning his attack and still you don't tell them! What if it is different in this timeline and he attacks them next month, next week… what if he attacks them tomorrow and…" kills them! Harry wanted to yell, but just remembered in time that Dumbledore did not know that his parents died in Voldemort's attack. He only knew about the scar and that Harry was the one destined to kill the Dark Lord.

"Harry, I guarantee that Voldemort doesn't know about the prophecy. I don't know how he found out in your time, but I know the eavesdropper and he is loyal."

"To whom?" Harry prompted.

Dumbledore sighed and Harry once again got a glimpse of the true age of the old wizard. "I would ask you to tell me who relayed the first part of the prophecy to Voldemort, but…"

"Even though you said so at our first meeting, you still are not completely sure, if our appearance and meddling in this timeline changes something in mine. You still want to do a bit more research, before you are completely sure of this, besides, I couldn't tell you anyway, because I don't know the answer." Just like I didn't know many other things, because you always thought it was too early to tell me, he thought, remembering his fifth year. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to keep his temper in check, before he continued with still closed eyes. "So, you think the eavesdropper is trustworthy, but that still doesn't explain why you didn't tell my parents about the prophecy, except for the fact that it is too early."

"Tell me Harry, how did you feel, when I, I mean the other me, first told you about it?"

Harry's eyes jerked open and he stared at Dumbledore with a disbelieving look on his face. "You- you can't compare this…" he spluttered. “The situation has been completely different. Si- someone very close to me had just died not even an hour before he dropped this bombshell on me. How do you think I felt?"

"Then let me put it this way… How do you feel now with this burden? Don't you long for a life, in which you don't have to worry about fighting and killing Voldemort?"

"Of- of course I do, but… Who wouldn't?" Harry could not believe this. What was Dumbledore getting at?

"That's the point. Who wouldn't? Instead of burdening them with the prophecy now, I give your parents the chance at a normal life. But don't worry, I'll tell them, as soon as something happens that tells me it's time for them to know. I think you are doing something similar with your friends, because as far as I know, you haven't informed them of the prophecy either."

The young man looked straight at the Headmaster, daring him to continue. Telling his friends and telling his parents were two completely different things. His parents might die, because they did not know what it was about, that it even existed, while his friends might die, when they found out about it. Besides, this fight was his and not his friends', no matter how often they said that they would not leave his side. They could not defeat Voldemort, only Harry could, so not telling them about it made it easier to face him alone, to push them away, when he needed to. They would never let him go alone, if they knew that he most likely would not return. They would try to talk him out of going alone, say that there must be another way. But there wasn't – and Harry had accepted that. It was either him, Voldemort or both of them that would go down in the end and Harry also knew that his chances were not that good. Voldemort was still more powerful, but he hoped at least that he could take him with him, when it was time, so that his friends and surrogate family could live in peace.

"I don't ask you to accept my decision, only to respect it, since I'm confident that I haven't acted any differently in your time," Dumbledore continued in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

He stared into Dumbledore's almost pleading blue eyes and nodded stiffly, fighting the urge to rage at him more, but he wasn't a hormonal teenager anymore. From tomorrow on he would be teaching kids and arguing like this with the Headmaster would not earn him any respect. "Good day, Professor," he only said, before he turned around and left the office.

Hurrying down the corridors to the main entrance, he almost ran down the staircase to the entrance hall and headed outside to his favourite place on the Hogwarts grounds, the lone tree at the lake, where he sat down in the sun, leaning against the tree. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a quick wave of his hand, being too lazy to take out his wand, before he took a long, calming drag and exhaled the grey-bluish smoke. His hands were still shaking with anger, as the argument between him and Dumbledore replayed in his head. But it was not just the argument he had had with the Headmaster only minutes ago, no, he also remembered bits and pieces of the argument he had with Dumbledore at the end of his fifth years, shortly after the incident in the Department of Mysteries.

It had taken Harry a long time after that, almost the full length of sixth year, to be able to trust Dumbledore again. He could remember how angry he had been at Dumbledore, for not telling him those important things, how he had blamed him for Sirius' death. Harry had tried to avoid him as much as possible at first, be it at Grimmauld Place during the last weeks of the holidays, or at Hogwarts. During the Welcoming Feast and Dumbledore's speech, Harry had ignored him completely and his anger at him had only risen,
when he had noticed the sad and tired looks Dumbledore had given him then.

Shortly after his sixth year had begun, Dumbledore had called Harry into his office to discuss further tutoring in Occlumency. This time the Headmaster had wanted to teach him himself, but Harry had declined, asking if he knew someone else, who could teach him. When the Headmaster had shaken his head, Harry had only said, "Ask Professor Snape. No matter how much I hate him, my hatred towards you is still bigger. If he refuses, tell him that this time, I'm actually willing to learn something, because now I know what I have to protect and why I have to keep Voldemort out of my mind. If he still refuses, you just have to find someone else, but I won't let you teach me."

Most surprisingly, Snape had not refused and so Harry had spent four nights a week in the dungeons, learning Occlumency and at the same time picking up skills at Legilimency. The young wizard had noticed his improvements with each passing night – his scar had stopped hurting, his visits to Voldemort's mind had become fewer and fewer until he had been able to sleep through the night without any interruptions.

So it was, when the Christmas holidays neared and Harry had applied for staying at the castle, while Ron and Ginny were spending Christmas at Grimmauld Place and Hermione with her parents, that Dumbledore had once again called him into his office. Harry had expected that the Headmaster had wanted to force him to go to Grimmauld Place for the holidays, but he had never expected his true intentions. After Dumbledore had told him about them, Harry could only stare at the Headmaster, not knowing if he should be happy or once again angry. "Yes Harry, Professor Snape told me, quite impressed, if I may say so, that you are finally able to conceal your mind, which doesn't mean that your tutoring is over yet, because I'm sure that Professor Snape still knows techniques to teach you, but you are now advanced enough to partake in Order meetings. It is, as you told me once, your fight, after all and I'm sorry that I haven't seen this before. You are an extraordinary young man, Harry and by far experienced enough to be a member of the Order of Phoenix."

For the first time in months, Harry had looked at Dumbledore with something resembling gratitude in the eyes and had mouthed, "Thank you." The first meeting Harry had attended had been on Christmas Eve. Despite all protests from Ron and Ginny, Harry had stayed at Hogwarts, finishing his assignments and flooed to Grimmauld Place just minutes before the meeting had started. Many heads had turned, when he had stepped inside the drawing room, but Dumbledore had welcomed him with a warm smile and then informed the other members of their new addition. There had been some protests, mostly from Molly Weasley, but in the end they had to accept that Harry was now a part of the Order of the Phoenix. After the highly interesting meeting, Harry had spent the night at Grimmauld Place, surprising Ron and Ginny, who had not expected him to come over Christmas, but when he had then told them about his membership in the Order, Ron had only been able to say one word, "Blimey!"

So slowly Harry had started to trust Dumbledore again. The old wizard had done everything in his powers to keep Harry informed about the happenings and had let him attend as many meetings as possible, when it was conformable with his timetable and his exams. He had given Harry access to the restricted section of the library to prepare for the inevitable fight and had also hired several private tutors to help him from time to time.

Also, on the Sunday after the exams, shortly before the summer holidays had started and Harry would once again and hopefully for the last time, be released into the care of the Dursleys, Dumbledore had done the one thing Harry would always be grateful for and had helped him to finally forgive the Headmaster fully – he had brought him to Godric's Hollow, to Lily's and James' resting place. Until the last moment, Harry had not known where they were going, but as soon as they had passed the gates to the cemetery, a dull
feeling had settled in Harry's stomach. First when they had stopped in front of a grey gravestone, Harry had understood. He had fallen to his knees and had traced the inscription of his parents' names and the dates of their births and deaths. For sixteen long years he had not once thought about looking for their graves or even asking someone where they had been buried. Since his parents had always been a tender subject with the Dursleys, it had never even occurred to him to ask and also at school it had never crossed his mind. Harry had looked up at Dumbledore and suddenly had not seen the wizard that had lied to him and taken almost everyone he had ever cared for from him. He had seen an old man that had made a grave mistake, but who wanted to make it up again.

"I thought that maybe you wanted to see this," Dumbledore had said. "They were truly wonderful people, Harry. I wished you could have known them."

"Thank you," Harry had only whispered, still not taking his eyes from the headstone. "I don't know how I can thank you for this."

"You don't need to thank me. I'm just an old man trying to right the things I've done wrong, to make up for past mistakes. I only try to earn your forgiveness…"

"Forgiveness can't be earned," Harry had said and looked up at Dumbledore, whose face had fallen at those words. "Forgiveness can only be given and… I forgive you…" At that moment, Harry could have sworn that a single tear had rolled down the old wizard's face and disappeared in his long beard. A tear of relief.

"T's beautiful, isn' it? I always love ter see 'er disappearin' behind the mountains…"

Harry raised his head startled, not having noticed anything around him, so deep had he been in thoughts, and saw that he was right now sitting in a large shadow. He squinted against the orange corona surrounding the huge person in front of him and immediately recognized him. There was only one person this large at Hogwarts.

"Yeh mus' be Harry, James' cousin. Dumbledore told me all 'bout yeh and the trouble yeh went through. Also read the articles in the Prophet, all nonsense if yeh ask me. Dumbledore says yeh're no threat, so yeh aren'. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds," the half-giant introduced himself. "Bu' everyone calls me Hagrid."

"I'm Harry, but you obviously know that already," he said, smiling at his old friend.

"I would've recognized you're related to James, even if Dumbledore didn' tell me 'bout yeh. Yeh look just like him, just the 'air is a bit lon' and yeh wear no glasses."

"If you want to see my cousin, Lily and their son you should go up to them soon. They're leaving tomorrow," Harry told him.

"Nah, tomorrow's time 'nough. Just came back from a mission and I'm tired." As if to prove his point, Hagrid let out a wide, loud yawn. "Sorry 'bout tha'. T's been a lon' day. Just wanted ter get out, take a look 'round the grounds, see if everything's alrigh'. Mind if I join yeh?" Hagrid asked and motioned with frantic movements to the space next to Harry.

He shook his head. "Not at all." The earth trembled a bit, when Hagrid sat down, but that did not bother Harry at all.

"Dumbledore's a grea' man fer lettin' 'em stay at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, he is," Harry mumbled and suddenly he started to sink again into one of his thoughtful moods. He absentmindedly lit another cigarette and shook his head. It would do him no good to brood, as Ron had started to call his habit of becoming thoughtful from one moment to another. Instead he tried to change the subject. "I heard you are great with animals."

"Well, yea', I think. Most animals in the Forbidden Forest don' dare ter attack me and I, meself, have a small boarhound fer 'bout half a year now. Named him Fang," Hagrid told him. "But me biggest wish is ter have a dragon as pet."

Harry chuckled slightly, remembering Norbert, the dragon Hagrid had wanted to keep as a pet in their first year, but suddenly, not knowing why, he sighed and the next words just seemed to tumble out of his mouth. "I had a dog once, large and black. His name was Snuffles. He died when I was almost sixteen. I'd known him for only two years and still it hurt terribly, when he died."

"How did he die?" the half-giant wanted to know, seemingly completely enrapt by this story.

"He fell," Harry only said. "He fell and I couldn't save him."

"'M sorry 'bout that. Sometimes, when an animal in the forest dies, I can hear the others cry for him. T's not a pretty sound an' I always get sad, when I hear 'em."

They remained silent for a moment, each of them watching the last rays of the sun disappear behind the mountains. When the sun was completely gone, Harry looked around and suddenly he saw someone walking towards them.

"There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere. And didn't I tell you to throw those things away?" Hermione asked, but even though she sounded disapproving, there was, as always, when she breached this subject, a smile on her face.

"Hermione, this is Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Grounds," Harry introduced them, as he and Hagrid got up. "Hagrid, this is Hermione. She's going to teach Transfiguration as substitute for Professor McGonagall."

"Nice ter meet yeh, Hermione," Hagrid said, grasping her small hand in his large one.

"Nice to meet you, too, Hagrid." Hermione smiled at him. Up until now, he had been one of the persons that she had missed the most in the castle.

"Well then, I think I better go back ter me hut, get some sleep. I hope I'll be seeing yeh 'round," Hagrid told them.

Both Harry and Hermione said goodbye to Hagrid, before the half-giant went back to his hut and they returned to the castle. On the way to their common room, Harry noticed that Hermione was somehow nervous and unusually silent and wondered, if something was wrong. "You said you've been looking for me. Why?"

"Honestly Harry," the young woman shook her head smiling. "Did you forget that we wanted to go through your lessons plan one last time tonight?"

"Ehm…" As a matter of fact, he could not remember talking to Hermione about this, but before he could say anything, they were standing in front of the painting to their common room. Hermione said the password and went inside, after the painting swung open. The first thing Harry noticed was that it was incredible dark inside. Instinctively he willed his wand into his hand and just wanted to mutter, "Lumos," as all lights inside the common room flared up and he was welcomed with a loud,

"Surprise!"

~*~

Harry was sitting in one of the red stuffed chairs, holding a glass of Firewhiskey between his palms and followed the old and quite worn Golden Snitch that he had gotten from his father, flutter around the room. This party had been Ron's and Hermione's idea and his parents had only been too eager to join in the preparations. A belated birthday party they had called it, since his had been cut rather short by Voldemort's attack. Harry did not complain, not at all, but this whole thing had surprised him a lot. Hence the term surprise party. Not many people were there, only those that knew of their situation, namely the four time travelers, his parents, who had left little Harry in the care of his godfather, and Molly and Arthur Weasley had been invited.

Since they had appeared in this time, Harry had only thought once that the day they had been brought back had been his birthday, and this had been, when he had told Dumbledore how many years they had travelled back in time. After that there had been much more important things than his birthday that he had had to think of.

Once again, Harry felt a great deal of affection for his friends. Ever since the fight in the Department of Mysteries they had tried their best to cheer him up, even though they had had their own problems. Somehow he thought that he had not always been the friend they deserved to have and that he had never shown them how grateful he was for their friendship. Whenever they were with him, they were in danger. They went with him into the lion's den and never complained about it. They stood by his side despite everything that had happened. No matter how much danger they were in, they were always there. This pleased and at the same time scared him. Harry knew that it would only be a matter of time until he lost one of them, if he did not defeat Voldemort soon.

At least, here and now, he hoped they were safe. He remembered Hagrid telling him, when he had first met him, that Voldemort had never dared to attack Hogwarts, though Dumbledore had never told him this. According to the half-giant, the attack in their seventh year had been the first one. But then again, it had never occurred to him to ask Dumbledore about this small fact to confirm what Hagrid had told him. However, though the Headmaster had been a lot more forthcoming with information during his last two school years and the Order meetings later, he was sure that the old Headmaster had not told him everything, out of fear to hurt him and drive him away again – though he did not know if this information would have hurt him. Just as Harry had, as Hermione had put it, a saving-people thing, Dumbledore had a protecting-people thing. And just as Harry had unintended endangered his friends, he was sure that Dumbledore had also endangered people with this
thing.

Glancing around the room, Harry noticed that his friends and family were all merrily talking and drinking with each other and that none of them was paying him any attention, so he got up and disappeared in his room, where he put the half-full glass on the desk and looked out of the window. It was already completely dark and the only way to discern the Forbidden Forest was because it was still a lot darker than the night sky. There was no light in Hagrid's hut, so Harry assumed that he had indeed turned in early.

From the window, he let his gaze wander around the room. So, this would now be his new home for an indefinite amount of time. It could be months or years until they found a way to return to their own time. It could be never. It might very well be that they were stuck in this time with no way to return. But what would he do then? Directly after their first talk with Dumbledore, Harry had been ready to do everything to keep his parents alive, but then, later, the Headmaster had warned them to keep any information that might change this timeline more than their appearance already had, to themselves until he had verified his theory that their timeline would not be changed at all. Now Harry was forced to keep silent, not being able to help his parents at all. He truly hoped that Dumbledore would find out soon that he was right, so that Harry could at least save his parents in this timeline. But until then he had to look at them without being able to tell them anything, hoping against hope that they would not suffer the same fate as his parents.

"May I come in?"

Harry turned around and saw his father standing in the door to his room. "Of course…"

"This room is nice," James commented, as he closed the door and stepped into the room. "Almost nicer than the one Lily and I had. And the view isn't all too bad, even though I would have preferred the Quidditch pitch." He squinted against the darkness, but when he accepted that he could not see anything, he turned back to his son. "What's wrong?" Before Harry could open his mouth, James continued, "And don't tell me nothing's wrong. I may not know you as well yet as your friends or your own parents do, but I'm not blind and I can see, when my son is troubled. So, what is it?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. There are many small things that are bothering me…"

"And one big thing, if I'm not mistaken. See, I think I already know you better than you think." James grinned, when he saw the stunned look on his grown-up son's face. "Sometimes when we talk, I get the feeling that you're just dying to tell me something, but you can't, out of fear that it might change something. Don't worry about this, I'm sure that someday you'll be able to tell us, as soon as Albus finally finds out what the consequences of your travel really are."

Harry could only stare at his father. Whenever he had seen him in the memories of people that had known him, he had never seen him this insightful. This was a completely new side to his father that he just got to know. While James' words slowly started to sink in, many others emerged in his mind, so, after a brief moment of silence, he sputtered, "Dumbledore is keeping something from you, too."

"I know," James only said and turned again to look out of the window. "But I trust Albus and believe that, in the end, everything will turn out fine. I'm not even sure I want to hear already, what he's keeping from us, if I'm ready to hear it. But he will tell us, when he thinks it's time for us to know."

"Aren't you angry with him that he has secrets that concern you?"

"Angry with him? No. I know that his tidings aren't good ones, and I want to enjoy my life with Lily and little Harry as long as possible. If I've learned one thing in the last years, then it is to live in the now. Seize the moment, because you don't know if you'll live to see the next day. If Voldemort or some of his Death Eaters suddenly decide to kill me tomorrow, I want to die with the knowledge that I haven't wasted one single moment in my life. I don't know if I'd live like that, knowing that something bad will happen." James shook his head. "No, that's not how I want to die…"

Harry could not look at his father at that moment, not after those words. Was Harry truly overreacting to the prophecy? He could not imagine to live a normal life with the prophecy always in the back of his mind, reminding him again and again that one day it will come down to kill or be killed. Would the last few years have been different, if Dumbledore had never told him about the prophecy? Would it have been different, if he had known about it ever since he had found out about his true heritage? Of course it would have been different, for better and for worse. If he had not known about the prophecy, he probably still would have wanted to kill Voldemort, but he would not carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, knowing that, if he failed, the world would be lost. However, if he had known the contents of the prophecy from the very beginning, he most likely would have never made friends with Ron and Hermione. He would have wanted to be alone, train alone, fight alone and die alone, so that no one needed to mourn him.

"Do you see what I mean?" James asked, when the look on Harry's face told him that he had understood his words. "I've never been good in Divination, but I know that God, or whoever's up there, has a plan for all of us and I pity those who know what destiny has in store for them." He clapped Harry on his shoulder and walked past him. "Think
about it."

When Harry heard the door close again behind him, a small smile crept on his face. His father was right, but even though Harry knew that the chances that he would not get out of this alive were higher than fifty percent, he now decided that he would make most of the time that he had still left. He would not leave this plane of existence without leaving something behind. As long as he was still alive, he would try to live.

For neither can live while the other survives.

He would show them all, and most of all Voldemort, that he would not let some prophecy rule his life!

With this thought in mind and a smile on his face, Harry took his glass from the desk and left his room, joining his friends at his birthday party.

A/N: Once again thank you for the reviews! They are always truly appreciated! You guys make me happy with them and a happy author equals enthusiasm to write some more.

Actually, one more chapter is already finished, but I don’t want too much time to pass between the chapters and since it could take a few more weeks (I’m going on vacation in two weeks) until chapter 16 is finished, I don’t want to let you wait too long for everything that’s coming after chapter 15.

But for now, I hope you have fun with this one! (You will finally find out, who this mysterious woman is.)

Chapter 14: The Welcoming Feast

Harry had been called many things in his young life. He had been the loved son of Lily and James Potter, The Boy Who Lived, simply boy or the nuisance that doesn’t appreciate a single thing. He had been the freak, the hero, the celebrity, the youngest Seeker in a century, the enemy, the champion, the liar, then again The Boy Who Lived and later The Man Who Fought. But never, not even during his time as leader of the DA, had he been called Professor, not until now.

He looked around the Great Hall, chewing his lips nervously. The four house tables were neatly lined up and laid with golden goblets and plates. Lit candles were floating just high enough above the tables so that no one would get burned by accident and the enchanted ceiling showed the starlit sky and the almost full moon.

Remus surely doesn’t feel well tonight, Harry assumed, but this thought quickly fled his mind, as he got nudged into his side by Ron, who nodded at the large wooden doors. His red haired friend looked a bit pale around his nose, so he tried to give him an encouraging smile – tried being the key word, for Harry thought that the smile had to resemble a grimace. He looked past Ron at Draco, who, even though he appeared to be completely calm and collected, was also a bit paler than usual. The only one of the four time travellers, who seemed to be completely at ease with the current situation, was Hermione, who chatted amiably and excitedly with Christophe Hayden about the upcoming term. Harry knew he should not be surprised, Hermione had, after all, a head start of three years on them.

After glancing at his watch and then again at the doors, he exchanged another, rather desperate look with Ron. Any minute now… As soon as Harry had finished this thought, the doors opened and in streamed students of all ages, who immediately sat down at their respective tables. He noticed at once the two read heads, who were sitting down in the middle of the Gryffindor table - the shorter one with the stocky built and the short red hair must be Charlie Weasley and the other one his older brother Bill. The oldest of the Weasley brothers was already quite tall and it appeared that he had already started to let his bright red hair grow to the length that his mother would come to hate. It was already long enough to be put into a small ponytail with the strands that did not yet fit into the hair band hanging freely down in front of his ears.

“Mom and dad told me that it’s Charlie’s third and Bill’s fourth year,� Ron whispered.

Just a short moment after everyone had settled down, Professor McGonagall walked in through the double doors, followed by a bunch of scared looking first-years. Harry watched, how they all stared at their surroundings and the ceiling in amazement and remembered clearly his own thoughts and feelings, when he had been one of them. How scared he had been then! Afraid of displaying some magic that he did not know yet in front of the whole school or of fighting a troll to be sorted into a house. He truly had not known what to expect, as probably did many of those first-years down there. McGonagall put the four-legged stool in front of them and placed the Sorting Hat on it.

Seeing the first-years and everyone else in the Great Hall looking interested at the Sorting Hat, which would start to sing its song any moment, made him feel a bit nostalgic. Seven years had he sat down there with his fellow students and enjoyed the Welcoming Feast – well, that was not entirely right. He remembered all too well the beginning of his second year, when he and Ron had missed the train and instead taken the illegally bewitched Ford Anglia of Ron’s father to get to Hogwarts. He had been so sure then that they would be expelled, but instead they had only gotten detention and had to go straight to their dormitories after having eaten in Snape’s office. But after this unfortunate year he had not missed a single Welcoming Feast and Sorting.

Suddenly, the Great Hall, as well as every teacher at the staff table, excluding him, erupted in applause and for a moment Harry was confused, but then saw Professor McGonagall holding a roll of parchment in her hands. Had he actually been that deep in thoughts to miss the Sorting Hat’s song? Obviously… Shaking his head, he now turned his attention to the actual Sorting. First now he noticed that there were fewer students to be sorted than when he had been eleven years old. The number of first-years was about as high as during his last two years at Hogwarts, when Voldemort’s second rise had become public knowledge.

After Zeller, Timothy had been sorted into Ravenclaw and welcomed by his house table, Professor McGonagall removed the chair and hat and took her place at the staff table, just as Dumbledore rose to hold his annual speech.

“Welcome everyone!� he greeted the students with a bright smile on his face. “Since there’s much to say and I see that you are nearly starved after having eaten the whole Hogwarts Express out of sweets, I’m going to say only one thing for now – diringdibumbum!�

Once again the Hall broke into applause and laughter, but everyone quickly quieted down, as all sorts of food magically appeared on the tables and the students and teachers heartily filled their plates. If the whole situation were different, Harry could have actually enjoyed the Feast, but as it was, he only poked with his fork in his roast potatoes and pork chops. Even the first-years ate like there was no tomorrow, now that the most exciting thing for that night was over. Well, the most interesting thing for them anyway.

Not once did he look up from his plate, but he could hear some students near the staff table talk about the new professors. He was sure that most of them had read the articles in the Prophet and was afraid what they might think of him and the others. If they believed what the Prophet had written about them, then it would be hard to teach them anything. Harry himself knew how hard it was to learn something from a teacher that you hate – he had enough experience with Snape and Umbridge. He could only hope that those students would give them a chance to prove themselves, no matter how hard it would be, given the current situation.

All too soon for Harry’s liking, the tables cleared up and everyone quieted down, as Dumbledore once again stood up. “Very well, now that we are all sated and tired, I want to give you the usual start-of-term notices. First years, and also some students in the higher years, should note that the Forbidden Forest is, as its name already says, forbidden.� His twinkling blue eyes wandered around, before he continued. “Our caretaker Mr. Filch also asked me to announce that you are not allowed to use magic in the halls between the classes and that there’s a list of all forbidden items in his office, if you care to take a look at it. Quidditch tryouts will be held in the second week of term, which our new Flying Instructor will supervise. He will inform the team captains, when their tryouts will take place. And finally, on a happier note, I will now introduce to you five new teachers.

“First there is Pr ofessor Sybill Trelawney for Divination, who isn’t here tonight. She’d rather preferred to have dinner in her tower, so that the many auras in the Great Hall won’t disturb her visions.� Harry noticed a small tug at the Headmaster’s lips, as he said this, and some of the other teachers snorted, Hermione being the loudest of them. “And then there are four new teachers, of whom you’ve probably already heard and read much – however, before I introduce them to you, I still need to say some things. I already told the reporters and I tell you again – none of them is a Death Eater or in any way involved in the attack on the home of Messrs Bill and Charlie Weasley. As a matter of fact, one of them is even related to them. This gentleman is Professor Ronald Weasley, your new Flying Instructor.�

Ron got up with a nervous smile on his face and waved at the students. Some of the girls, mostly the older ones, started to giggle and point at him, and Harry hoped that they would not react like that each time one of them was introduced. Unfortunately, his prayers were not answered, because as soon as Ron had sat down again, it was his turn.

“Your new teacher for Defence against the Dark Arts will be Professor Harry Potter. Some of the older students might still know, if in person or by legend, his cousin James Potter.� The students who had heard of James Potter and his friends and what they had done during their Hogwarts days, applauded loudly, and again most of the older girls started to whisper to their best friends and giggle behind hands. Harry felt his cheeks heat up and only vaguely registered that he got up and nodded at the students, before he sat down again. He was glad, when Dumbledore finally continued. “Professor Eirian Draconis will be your new Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House (Draco received about the same reaction as Ron and Harry and appeared to be openly enjoying it) and Professor Hermione Granger will replace Professor McGonagall at least for the current school year in her position as Transfiguration professor and Head of Gryffindor House.�

This time it was the male population of Hogwarts that erupted in catcalls. And again, contrary to Ron and him, Hermione seemed to be completely at ease with the attention she was getting. Probably again those three years she has on us, Harry thought. At least it seems as if most of the students don’t hate us.

After having introduced them, Dumbledore animated the students to sing the school song (the Headmaster’s voice seemed to be the loudest, as he was singing to the tune of O Fortuna of the opera Carmina Burana), before he wished everyone a good night and the Prefects led the students to their dormitories.

The time travellers also excused themselves quickly, as the other professors sat down at the round table that had suddenly appeared again in front of the staff table to talk some more, and headed to their common room.

~*~

As Harry was finally lying in his warm and comfortable four-poster bed, he replayed again everything that had happened that day. In the morning, he had gotten up early to have one last breakfast with his parents, before they left, despite the fact that he had gotten to bed just a few hours previously. After breakfast, he had looked after little Harry, while his parents had been gathering their belongings and storing them into two large trunks – one for Lily and James and one for the toys, clothes and other stuff of little Harry.

It was around noon that it was eventually time to say goodbye. Harry, his parents and friends, Hagrid and Dumbledore had been assembled at the magnificent iron wrought gates to the Hogwarts grounds, waiting for one of the carriages. The carriages appeared to be horseless to most of the students, but were in reality pulled by beings called Thestrals that could only be seen by people who have witnessed death. It had arrived just a short time later and after a hug from his mother and a strong handshake from his father and after Hagrid had taken care of the trunks, they got into the carriage and drove off.

That afternoon, Harry, Hermione and Ron had agreed to help decorating the Great Hall for the arrival of the students, but after this had been done – it had only taken about half an hour – they had gone to their common rooms. Draco had been there, lying on the couch and reading yet another book about potions, as they had climbed through the portrait hole. As soon as Hermione had stepped inside, she had disappeared in her room and come out seconds later with pieces of parchment, which she started to study the moment she had sat down in one of the armchairs. Harry and Ron had only shrugged and the redhead had gotten his chessboard. Soon Draco had joined them, urging the chessmen on to destroy each other, no matter whose they were, as did Ron and Harry, only for their own figures. Hermione, feeling bothered by the noise of three grown-up men yelling at the tiny chessmen as if they were first-years, had quickly retreated into her room, where she could revise her notes in peace and had first appeared again, when it had been time to go into the Great Hall.

With his thoughts wandering to the Welcoming Feast and the reactions of the students, Harry finally drifted off…

He was running, running through the halls of the castle, past portraits and armours, which started to giggle, laugh or squeak, as he passed them. He looked back and, much to his horror, noticed that he had not lost his pursuers. Screaming and giggling girls, from first to seventh year, were following him, yelling his name. Suddenly, just in time, he skidded to a halt, as huge chessmen were blocking his path. He turned his head to his left and to his right, searching for an escape and, as if by magic, a wall suddenly disappeared and he could now see stairs. Hurrying down the stairs, he arrived in a large hall he had never seen before. The floor was made of black marble and high black pillars were supporting the heavy stone ceiling.

“Oh, my little Harry, being chased by so many girls…�

He turned his head to where the voice had come from and was surprised to see his parents, Lily holding little Harry, just about fifteen feet in front of him. They were both wearing black robes, even his baby-self. “Mom? Dad? Wha…?�

Before he could finish the question, the girls had caught up to him and two of them were pushing him onto a throne that had not been there before. Dumbfounded he sat there and watched how the girls, now also all wearing black robes, joined his parents and knelt down.

“I’m sorry, my Lord.� All of sudden another person was kneeling in front of him, dressed like the others and wearing a white mask, between him and everyone else. “I tried to get in, but I wasn’t able to convince him to hire me.�

“You’ve disappointed me,� Harry heard himself say and his own, hissing voice sent a shiver down his spine. “Crucio…�

The curse was barely louder than a whisper, but it still had the desired effect. The man on the ground started to scream and to writhe, but got up again into a kneeling position, as the curse was lifted. “My Lord,� he panted. “I probably have other tidings to make up for my failure. What the Prophet has written is true. Dumbledore has employed the four strangers as teachers for Defense against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration and Flying. I also saw one of them and he has a remarkably resemblance to James Potter. Dumbledoretold me that they are cousins, but I don’t know of any Potters that look so much like him. I think this other Potter might pose a threat.�

“What do you suggest?� The hissing voice sounded at least partly pleased with this development.

“The old fool offered to tell me, when a spot is open that meets my requirements.�

“Then I think you know what you have to do.�

“Yes, my Lord.� The man struggled to get to his feet and then walked through a passage that the other persons in the hall had cleared for him, with a slight limp.

“Oh, and Severus?� Harry heard himself call. The man stopped and turned around. “You know that, if you disappoint me again, it won’t be you to suffer the Cruciatus.�

Severus Snape’s whole body tensed and an image of a petite and pretty woman with straight ash-blond hair and a small girl with black hair flashed in front of Harry’s inner eye.

With this image still fresh in his mind, Harry woke up with a start. He tried to even his breathing and concentrated to protect his mind. The mind numbing pain in his scar slowly faded and Harry finally managed to relax. It had been a long time, since he had been in Voldemort’s mind like this and he was not used anymore to how his body reacted to those visits. Maybe he should start again to use Occlumency to keep his mind out of Voldemort’s and probably also the other way around – he still had no idea how the connection in this time worked. Or maybe not. Maybe studying the Voldemort from this time as long as he could might help him to defeat the one from his time, if – no, when, they finally found a way to go back.

On all accounts he had found out one important thing – Snape was already a Death Eater. Unfortunately he had not found out if Peter was one, too. But maybe he sill would, if he did not use Occlumency. This was just another reason for not telling his friends and Dumbledore about the connection to this Voldemort – they would just tell him to shield his mind. However, Harry thought that he was finally able to discern if something really happened or if it was just a trick. And the image of the woman and the girl that Voldemort had received from Snape was real.

Shaking his head, Harry slipped out of the bed and got dressed into black jeans and a black sweater. A quick glance at his watch told him that it was three o’clock in the morning, too early to get up, but he also could not go to sleep anymore. So, after having put on his boots, he grabbed his wand, muttered, “Lumos,� and sneaked out of his room and the common room.

The whole castle was silent and out of habit Harry wished he had his invisibility cloak with him, when he suddenly remembered that he was now a professor and did not need to justify himself. This thought brought a small grin on his face, which only got bigger, as he saw a cat rounding one of the corners, probably now going to Filch to report that someone is wandering the halls. And Harry was right – just a few minutes later, Filch came around another corner, lantern in his hand and muttering, “Yes, my dear… Someone is close, someone is…�

“Hello Mr. Filch,� Harry greeted him friendly, trying hard to keep the mischievous smile from his face.

“Oh, Professor, I’m sorry… I thought you were a student… You haven’t seen one by any chance?� Filch’s somewhat hopeful face darkened, when Harry shook his head. “Well then, come on, Mrs. Norris, there must be some students out at night…� he muttered and went back the same way he had come.

Once again shaking his head, Harry went on for a few more minutes and finally stopped in front a wooden door, which he opened. At once the musty smell of books reached his nose and he walked through the shelves until he reached the section of the yearbooks. He held the tip of his wand closely to the spines of the books to read the years, pulled the ones from 1973 to 1978 out and lit one of the lanterns on a table. The chair grated against the stone floor as he pulled it out and when he opened the first book dust whirled up, causing Harry to sneeze once or twice. “Bless you,� he mumbled to himself and finally began to leaf through the book.

Since he carefully looked at each and every picture it took some time until he finished one and then another. It was in the third book that suddenly the same ash-blond woman he had already seen in Diagon Alley and this night in his vision, only five years younger, looked up at him from one of the pictures. For a moment, there was a confused expression on her black and white face, as he stared at her, but then waved at him, smiling. He smiled back and then looked at the name written below the picture – Clara Kensington, Ravenclaw. Best N.E.W.T.s results: Outstanding in Potions, Herbology, Ancient Runes; Exceeds Expectations in History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfigurations.

And then, beneath those facts, there was another note. Harry glanced at another picture and saw that there was also one, before his eyes focused again on Clara. It was a message from the person’s (in this case Clara’s) best friends – We’re sure we’ll never understand why you chose him, but may you find happiness with Sev.

So it was true. This woman and Snape had been an item at school, even after he had graduated, since he must be about two years older than her, and were now married with a child. And another one was on its way, he remembered seeing her and the small girl in Diagon Alley. Now this was news he had to digest first – he had never known that Snape had been married. However, at least now Harry knew where he had seen her before – it must have been during one of his Occlumency lessons, when he had unexpectedly penetrated Snape’s mind. He only wondered what had happened that they had broken up. She had seemed so happy, when he had seen her. Maybe she had found out about her husband being a Death Eater – she certainly did not look like one and he had not seen the Dark Mark on her arm. It was possible, but he would most likely never find out the truth. After all, it was Snape’s business, not his. Harry had wanted to find out who this mysterious woman was and the things that he had found out were highly interesting. But he would not tell his friends about it – if the Snape of his time wanted to keep Clara and the girl, Jocelyn, a secret, then so be it.

With this thought in mind, Harry closed the book, put the others back into the shelves and clamped the one of the year 1975 under his arm. After having extinguished the lantern, he once again lit the tip of his wand and made his way back to his room through the dark halls of Hogwarts, hoping that, after having calmed down from his vision, he would be able to get some sleep before he had to rise again. The next day promised to become strenuous.

A/N: Here I am! Back from my vacation in Croatia. Sunburned, kind of tired since this vacation had been pretty adventurous, but happy. I know I let you wait rather long for this one, but as I already said before, another story needs to be updated before I write chapter 16, so I didn’t want to let you wait too long for that chapter after I posted this one. The chapter for the other story will hopefully be written this week and then I have time to finally write again for this story.

For now I wanted to thank you for your reviews and I hope you have fun with this chapter. Reviews are, as always, highly appreciated. :-)

Chapter 15: Facing your Fears

“Bloody hell, Harry, wake up!�

Pulling the blanket over his head, Harry tried to will the pounding on his door to stop. He felt as if he had not slept at all and the only thing he wanted right now was to sleep some more, preferably until noon or longer without being disturbed by anything or anyone.

“Harry, classes start in about half an hour!� This time it was Hermione who tried to get his attention. Trust her to be the one calling on his conscience and letting him remember, what day today was. It certainly would not make a good impression, if he were late on his very first day as Defence against the Dark Arts professor.

“I’m up! I’m up,� he growled, as he pulled the blanket back and swung his legs over the edge of his bed, running a hand over his face to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He grabbed his watch from the nightstand and indeed, cursing under his breath, he noticed that there was barely half an hour left until classes started. Not enough time to get showered and have breakfast. “Go ahead,� he called through the closed door, at the same time gathering some clothes and heading into his bathroom. “I’m going to meet you at lunch!� The only thing he heard before he threw the door to his bathroom shut behind him, were one muffled Okay from Ron and one Don’t be late from Hermione.

When Harry was sitting in his new classroom twenty minutes later his stomach was protesting forcefully and he wondered, if it had been the right idea to skip breakfast. Then again, maybe his stomach would have protested even more at the sight of food, seeing as he was still quite nervous about this whole teaching thing. In less than ten minutes students – fourth year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw – would stream into this classroom, expecting him to teach them something interesting. He had not talked to Dumbledore about what he was planning and he hoped that the students would not freak – too much.

Just as he was once again letting his eyes wander over the few notes he had prepared for this class, the first students piled into the classroom. Harry was pleased to notice that Bill Weasley was one of them and that they greeted him friendly. He smiled back, especially as they took their seats in the first rows, and then turned his attention back to his notes. Shuffling with some parchments, he tried to fight the nervousness and the queasy feeling in his stomach, as slowly more and more students filled the classroom until the last one was there and it was time for the class to start.

With a wave of his wand, Harry closed the door to the classroom and got up, taking a sheet of parchment, where the names of the students were listed. After having made sure that truly everyone was there, he put the parchment back and walked to the front of his desk, leaning against it, crossing his arms in a relaxed manner over his chest. If only he truly felt as relaxed as he wanted to appear!

“Good morning everyone,� he greeted them, feeling as if someone was choking him. “As your Headmaster already told you last night, my name is Professor Potter and I’m going to teach Defence against the Dark Arts this year. Today, I want to start with some easy stuff and then move on to something new. So I ask you to put your wands and books away. You won’t need them.� Noticing the confused looks the students were giving him, as if asking him, if he was really serious that they neither needed wand nor book, he turned around and walked over to something covered by black cloth next to his desk. Harry realized that they had every reason to be confused, since it was rather unusual in this class to not use any of those items. He smirked, anticipating their reaction to his first class, and pulled the fabric off, revealing a rattling trunk. “Can someone tell me what’s in there?� Several hands were raised and he picked a blond haired Ravenclaw. “Miss Hawkins, please.�

“I think it’s a boggart, Sir,� the girl answered.

Harry smiled at her, slowly feeling that his nervousness started to lessen. “That’s right. Could you also tell me, what a boggart is?�

Nodding, the girl explained, “A boggart usually prefers dark and closed places like trunks and closets. No one knows its real form, as it transforms as soon as it faces someone.�

“Good. Five points to Ravenclaw. And now, does someone else know, what kind of form the boggart takes, when it transforms?� Again, Harry could see many hands in the air, but this time he picked someone from Gryffindor. “Mr. Weasley.�

“It depends. A boggart usually becomes what people fear the most.�

“Five points to Gryffindor. Has anyone ever seen what his boggart looks like?� Harry asked next and was surprised that most of the students shook their heads. “But you covered boggarts last year, didn’t you?� This time, they all nodded. This puzzled him greatly – he had read the curriculum of each year for Defence against the Dark Arts and knew that the students should usually face their first boggart in third year. “Why didn’t your last professor show you one?�

“I think he was scared,� a timid looking pale Ravenclaw boy with brown hair answered almost in a whisper. However, as the class was incredibly quiet, Harry heard it.

“Why should he be scared of a boggart?�

Suddenly feeling the attention of the whole class on him, the boy seemed to try to melt into the shadows behind his desk. “M-maybe because h-he thought that- that o-our worst f-fear would be…� His voice dropped to an extremely low level, as he mumbled the next words. “You-know-who.�

“Excuse me… Who?� Even though Harry had heard perfectly well what this boy had mumbled, he thought he had finally found the best way to breach the topic he had wanted to talk about during this class. He knew he was being somewhat cruel of putting him through this, but he had set himself a goal that he wanted to achieve, so he needed to push the students a bit.

“You-know-who,� the boy repeated, louder this time. However, when the boy saw the confused look on his professor’s face, he was starting to become irritated. “He-who-must-not-be-named, you know?�

Harry shook his head, trying to keep the grin from his face. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea, who you are talking about.�

“But everyone knows You-know-who!� a girl from Gryffindor with long, chestnut brown hair who was sitting next to Bill exclaimed. “How can you not know him?�

“Does this you-know-who have a name?� Harry asked, noticing with a self-satisfied inner smirk, how some of the students recoiled.

“A-a name?� another student, a Ravenclaw, stuttered.

“Yes, you have a name, your classmates all have names and I have one. So, why shouldn’t he have one, as well?� Some students started to whisper excitedly to each other, but Harry didn’t think that anyone of them would be brave enough to say what he wanted to hear, yet. Looking around the classroom, he also noticed some students that had shrunk back in their seats, as if trying to become one with the shadows to not be called upon by him, but then he saw him, the same shy and somewhat mousy Ravenclaw boy from before, slowly and hesitatingly raising his hand. “Yes… What was your name?�

“B-Benjamin,� he answered. “B-Benjamin Linford, Sir.�

“Benjamin, can you answer my question?�

All heads turned towards the boy, as he nodded ever so slightly. “I-I read in a b-book, b-before I came t-to H-Hogwarts, that h-he was o-once known a-as T-Tom R-Riddle.�

Harry flashed him a genuine and encouraging smile. “You’re Muggleborn, aren’t you?� Once again, Benjamin only nodded. “I’m impressed. You’ve really done your homework. That’s really brave, especially since Muggles are his main targets. Ten points to Ravenclaw for this.� Turning back to the rest of his class, Harry continued, “Now, as you’ve probably guessed, I knew from the beginning, whom you were talking about. I just wanted you to speak his name, which Mr. Linford did, at least one of his names. Yes, Tom Marvolo Riddle is the man who later was known as the one you fear so much - Voldemort.�

Every single student in this class winced, when he spoke the name, and some of them couldn’t suppress a small shriek or dropped something. This was a reaction he had expected and wanted to lessen, if not get rid of completely, in his classes. In his own time, it was still a too common reaction, no matter how hard he or the others, who dared to say the name, tried to convince that fearing this name was useless.

„Voldemort (again, everyone flinched) was once a normal boy, who got his Hogwarts letter and then came to this school, just like you. But I assume you know that already. However, what you probably don’t know, is that Voldemort isn’t a pureblood as everyone presumes. No,� Harry clarified, as most of his students looked at him in disbelief, “Tom Riddle’s father was a Muggle and his mother a witch, making him a half blood. His father left his mother, when he found out that she was a witch and his mother died during childbirth, leaving her new born son in the care of a Muggle orphanage. Tom hated it there, hated his Muggle father and came to despise Muggles in general. I think he saw his magic as a chance to escape, to prove that he was better than any Muggle and to help him avenging everything the Muggles had ever done to him.�

Avenging everything the Muggles had ever done to him… Harry knew this longing all too well, but he had always resisted the lure to use his magic against the Dursleys, knowing that it was not just wrong, but also knowing that probably the only thing the Dursleys deserved was pity for being a really poor excuse for Muggles. But deep in his heart Harry knew that he would have most likely become another Tom Riddle, had it not been for Ron and Hermione, who had helped him through everything ever since his first day at Hogwarts. Voldemort would have had a field day, Harry thought grimly. The only one, who is able to defeat him, on his side, fighting for his cause…

“As you see,� he continued after a moment’s hesitation, to let the information sink in, “Voldemort is just a wizard – a powerful one, I admit – but he’s still just that. He had been wronged more than once in his childhood and this formed the man you’re now afraid of. I’m not saying that you don’t have to fear him, but by fearing his name you only give him more power over you!�

“But he killed so many people, wizards, witches and Muggles alike,� a black-haired girl in Gryffindor colours objected.

“That he did and he will kill more. Until he is stopped, more people will die,� Harry told her bluntly, before he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Has anyone of you ever heard of a man called Hitler?�

“Wasn’t he the Muggle who lived during Grindewald’s reign of terror?� a female voice in the back asked.

“Yes, that was him, but do you also know that at the same time that Grindewald terrorized the Wizarding World, Hitler was at war with a large part of the Muggle world, where this war is known as World War II, and therewith responsible for hundred thousands of deaths of soldiers and innocents, much more than Voldemort had ever killed? Adolf Hitler’s main goal wasn’t so unlike Voldemort’s. He was convinced that only one race, the Aryan race, was fit for survival, so he ordered the death of everyone not being Aryan, his main target having been Jews. He deported them to so called concentration camps, where the men and the women were told to work. The old and children, who had been deported, were killed in gas chambers, as well as everyone saying anything against Hitler’s regime was ordered dead.�

Harry was pleased to note that the class was paying close attention to him, some of them even taking down notes. He just wanted to open his mouth again, when Benjamin Linford’s hand was again in the air. He nodded at him, encouraging him to say whatever he wanted to say.

“But why Jews?�

“Because he was afraid of them,� Harry only answered. Upon the bemused looks he was getting, he gave them a sad smile. “When he had been a child, he had been afraid of them, because they were different. They mostly wore black clothes and the men more often than not had long beards, making them stand out. He hadn’t understood them and this, in addition to their appearance, had scared him.�

Sitting down on his desk, he looked thoughtful for a moment, before he added, “You see, impressions of other persons or races can form a person, help him become what he is now. This has happened with Hitler and this has happened with Voldemort. They are truly more alike than you think, with one major difference. I don’t know who started it, I doubt anyone does, but contrary to the Muggles, who endured so much under Hitler’s dictatorship, wizards and witches are afraid to use Voldemort’s name. Even while Hitler was still alive, people feared him, but not his name. They didn’t call him You-know-who or He-who-must-not-be-named and because of this, they have become stronger. They have learned from their past mistakes by facing their fears and hopefully something like World War II won’t happen again.�

The whole class was silent, not one dared to say anything or even to move. Harry jumped down from his desk, this time with a serious and determined look on his face, and, as his boots collided with the ground, most students looked at him startled.

“This is the topic of our first lessons,� he told them with a strong and firm voice, “facing your fears and this one in particular. I swear, in one month all of you will be able to say the name Voldemort without wincing or stuttering! As homework I want you to work in pairs, the best would be one pureblood and one, who is at least part Muggle, to find out as much as possible about Voldemort’s and Hitler’s life and reign and compare them. I want you to get some insight into their personalities, if possible, so that you can understand them better. Understanding something is the first step of getting rid of that fear. You have one week for this task and you won’t get any other homework from me this week.�

“Wait a second,� Bill Weasley almost interrupted him. “You want us to lose our fear of Vol- You-know-who?�

Shaking his head, Harry smiled. “No, not of Voldemort. Fearing the person is alright, because he has done terrible things, but I want you to lose your fear of his name.�

“And what about the boggart?� Bill prodded further.

“You will face him, eventually, someday this month I assume,� he informed them. “But before you go now, I would ask of you one last thing. Please repeat what I say. Voldemort.�

No sound was to be heard, as all students looked at him, somewhat shocked. They obviously hadn’t expected him to do this, yet.

“Come on!� he called, trying to ease them into this with a smile on his face. “It’s just a name! He won’t jump out of the shadows and attack you, when you say it. I’ve been saying it, ever since I first heard of him and as you see, I’m still alive. So, once again: Voldemort.�

This time some quiet and some stammering reached his ear, whereas others remained silent, but some of them actually had, with huge effort, managed to say the name, at least partly.

“Not bad, but remember, by the end of the month I want all of you to be perfect at this. Class dismissed.�

When the last student had left the classroom and the door was thrown shut, Harry slumped against his desk and heaved a deep breath. This had truly been a lot better than he had thought his first class would be. His nervousness had passed completely, once the class had started taking interest in what he had been talking about, and he now could hear his stomach protesting loudly. Unfortunately there was still one more class until lunch – first years Hufflepuff and (he cringed slightly) Slytherin.

~*~

When Harry finally stepped into the Great Hall for lunch, his stomach churning painfully to remind him of his hunger, the murmuring and talking at the tables intensified and many students started to stare at him in respect and some even in awe. It seemed as if the fourth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had quickly taken to spreading the news of their first lesson among the other students.

Whispers were following him through the whole hall and once he reached the staff table, his friends also only stared at him, as well as some other teachers. Hiding his smirk at Hermione’s fidgeting hands, as if dying to ask what was on her mind, he filled some vegetables and meat on his plate and started to eat, almost sighing in relief, as his stomach finally stopped protesting. Note to self: Never sleep in anymore!

Harry patiently finished his first portion, before he once again reached for the bowl to refill his plate, the whole time completely ignoring his friend. Hermione herself, having obviously noticed that Harry wasn’t going to react just yet, had also returned part of her attention back to her plate, but kept glancing at him every so often, as if checking, if he was finally finished. Only Draco and Ron were fully dedicated to their lunch, trusting Hermione to start the conversation that would confirm or disprove the rumour they had heard.

So, at the same moment that Harry leaned back in his chair, after having finished his second plate, the question just blurted out of her. “Is it true?�

“Is what true?� Harry asked, only teasing her slightly, with a grin on his face, as he noticed that he now also had the rapt attention of every other teacher at the staff table. Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled at him mischievously and Harry was kind of relieved that the Headmaster apparently didn’t hold a grudge against him for his topic in his first lesson.

“Harry Potter!� Hermione hissed, not wanting to cause a scene in front of the students, but still much too curious about the rumour. “Don’t play dumb! You know exactly what I’m talking about! Is it true that you are training the students to say Voldemort?�

Some of the present teachers recoiled upon hearing this name and Harry smirked. “Yes, I am. Kind of. I only want them to overcome this fear, so I’m not exactly training them. I think this should have happened a long time ago, seeing as even adults, who should know better, are afraid of a name.�

“But…�

“No buts, Hermione,� Harry lowered his voice, so that only she could hear him whisper, “In our time the whole Wizarding World panics as soon as the name is mentioned somewhere and this gives Voldemort power. I want to change that, if only by teaching my students that a name isn’t something to fear.�

“Alright Harry…� The young woman sighed. “I understand you, but I ask you not to push the students too hard… Almost their whole life they have been taught to fear it, so teaching them otherwise might prove to become difficult.�

Harry grinned at her, as he finally reached for the dessert. “I managed it with you and Ron, didn’t I?�

“Class dismissed,� Harry said, trying to keep the obvious relief out of his voice, as the students got up and filed out of the classroom. When everybody was gone, he walked back behind his desk to gather the different scrolls of notes he had prepared for this class. Fortunately this had been the last class for today and tomorrow was Friday, so the weekend was drawing near. He had never believed, when he had agreed to this whole thing that teaching would be that strenuous and time consuming. Right now, after almost three weeks of doing this job, he finally started to respect and appreciate the hard work his professors always had put into their education. Especially when dealing with classes put together with students from Gryffindor and Slytherin, just like the sixth years class he had just taught.

It was a few minutes later that he finally left the classroom and was on his way back to their common room. He didn’t even want to think about the assignments he still needed to grade, but with this he would start after dinner. For now he just wanted to relax a bit and then have a nice and plentiful meal.

Neither Ron nor Hermione or Draco were in the common room, when he arrived there. Ron was probably still outside, making sure that none of the school brooms were broken, Hermione was most-likely still talking to some of her students before coming here and Draco, well, he only actually saw Draco during the meals or in the mornings. The rest of the time Harry assumed that his once rival was spending either in the potions lab or in his office.

Well, at least no one would bother him for at least a couple of more minutes. He went into his room and closed the door behind him, before he dropped the pieces of parchment on his desk, next to another pile. He really needed to get a lot of work done that night and probably also over the weekend. No matter how much fun teaching actually was, sharing your knowledge with younger generations, as Hermione had so accurately put it, clearly had its disadvantages, like spending
hours after classes to correct and grade homework.

However, Harry didn’t want to complain. Dumbledore had been so generous to offer them those jobs, even though he absolutely didn’t need to, and they could thank him by doing this job as well as possible. And, Harry thought, he was helping those students. Especially his fourth years Gryffindor and Ravenclaw class was making him proud. He had received many interesting essays about Voldemort and Hitler and they were already doing a lot better saying his name. He truly figured that, within the next two weeks, he might be able to show them the boggart.

“Harry, mate, you already there?� sounded Ron’s voice from the common room.

Instead of answering, Harry sighed – his few minutes of peace were over – and left his room, seeing Ron standing in the middle of the room. “Hi Ron,� he replied tiredly and slumped down in one of the armchairs. “How was your day?�

Shrugging, Ron replied, “The usual. Only that today, after dinner, I’m going to have to supervise the Quidditch training of the Gryffindors. Actually, I can’t wait to see how Charlie is as a seeker. Who knows,� he said winking with a large grin on his face, “maybe he can give you a run for your money. You want to come and watch?�

“Sorry, but Ican’t.� Harry rubbed his eyes. He really wanted to, but there were still the two piles of parchment waiting for him in his room. Somehow Ron had gotten the easy teaching spot. Flying lessons were only for first years and the essays they had to write – if they even had to write any – were quite easy to grade. But then again, instead of grading papers, Ron had to be present at the Quidditch training of the different houses now and then and Harry remembered only all to well how long they could take, when you had a Quidditch obsessed team captain. However, Harry would much rather watch over some kids playing Quidditch than read the essays until the letters became blurry. “I guess, you want to have dinner now?�

“Exactly,� the redhead nodded. “Oh, and I met Hermione on my way here. She told me she needed to go to the library and would grab a bite later and that we shouldn’t wait up for her.�

Harry shook his head. This was just like their friend to skip dinner – he didn’t believe one second that Hermione would bother the House Elves late at night only because she was hungry. “Well, that’s Hermione for you.� Stretching his arms into the air and his neck first to one and then to the other side to get rid of some tense muscles, Harry got up from the armchair. “Let’s have dinner then.�

~*~

It was already early in the morning – Harry’s watch showed 3:17 – as he finally put the quill down and added the last essay to the already finished pile of graded papers. Finally, Harry thought with an exhausted grin on his face. He pushed the chair back and got up, only hesitating as he took a quick look out of the window. The whole sky was littered with glistening stars and the Forbidden Forest loomed darkly behind Hagrid’s hut. The half-giant seemed to have also turned in already, as therewas no light in the hut. Already, he chuckled. That’s good. In only a couple of hours his alarm clock would wake him mercilessly and he would need to get up to face another exhausting day at school. And there’s only one pile left, Harry grinned wryly, as he gazed at the other pile of parchments that was still waiting for him.

Sleepily, Harry rubbed his eyes, as he crossed the room and stepped into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Once he was dressed in only his shorts and a black T-shirt, he came back out and, with a wave of his hand, extinguished the candles. He knew the few steps from the bathroom to his bed by heart, so he only slumped down on the mattress and, after having pulled the blanket up, closed his eyes. But somehow, before he succumbed to sleep, a fleeting thought crossed his mind that he had forgotten something.

His night was restless, as he tossed and turned. His dreams were evaded by the last thought he had before falling asleep...

He was chasing a red question mark that was teasing him about something with Snape’s voice. Only, whenever a certain word fell, it was droned out by a loud noise that resembled a helicopter. When he had followed the question mark to the Quidditch pit, it was suddenly wearing green and silver robes and sneered at him, now sounding a lot like Malfoy. “Come and get it, Potter.�

Harry looked down at himself and noticed that he was wearing his old Gryffindor Quidditch gear and was holding his trusty Firebolt in his right hand. Without thinking, Harry mounted the broom and rose into the air, still following the question mark. But now that he was back in the air, he felt better, securer and he knew that it would now only be a matter of time until he remembered. He saw it then, the golden snitch, and dove after it until his fist closed around the fluttering ball. Slowly opening his fist again, he expected it to fly away again, but instead it jumped to the ground and transformed into…

“Hermione!� he gasped, as he sat up in his bed. It was only a few minutes before his alarm clock would have woken him up, but the sudden memory about what day it was today made him jump faster out of the bed than probably ever before. “Oh bloody hell!� Cringing, he looked at the calendar and indeed, he had been right. There was a bright red ring around the number nineteen, which itself was flashing at him in rainbow colours. Today was Hermione’s birthday and he had completely forgotten about it – why hadn’t Ron reminded him? Out of all people, he should know when it was Hermione’s birthday. Present, present… Harry looked frantically around his room, searching for anything that might be a good present for Hermione, but there was nothing he could use.

He just wanted to storm into the common room to find Ron, when he remembered what he was wearing and, cursing again, he grabbed his clothes and disappeared in the bathroom. Why the bleeding hell are mornings at Hogwarts always this hectic?

His hair was still damp, as he stepped into the common room and found Ron already sitting there, reading the Daily Prophet and obviously waiting for him to go to breakfast. How Ron always managed to be ready before him was still a mystery, but he didn’t have time to solve it now. “Why didn’t you remind me?� he immediately asked, when he spotted his friend.

“Remind you? What are you talking about?� Ron looked a bit startled, but also a bit confused. “And why is everyone so grumpy this morning?�

Harry groaned, as he walked up to his friend. “Please, don’t tell me that you also forgot.� When the confusion on Ron’s face became even more evident, he continued, “’Mione’s birthday.�

“Oh…� the redhead said slowly, but when the words had sunken in, he repeated, louder this time, “Oh! Bloody hell!�

“My words exactly,� Harry agreed and sat down next to his friend.

“So, that’s the reason why she just stomped out a couple of minutes ago, when I only said good morning and then opened the Prophet.�

The black-haired young man wiped a hand over his face. “We’re hopeless.� Ron could only agree.

It was with great fear and guilt that the two young men stepped into the Great Hall and up to the staff table, where a couple of teachers were already having breakfast, Hermione included. However, the young woman didn’t once look up from her copy of the Prophet, as they sat down next to her. Neither Ron nor Harry knew what to say to her, so they rather remained silent, both thinking of a way to apologize and make up for their forgetfulness. Maybe a surprise party, Harry thought, because then they could tell her that they had just pretended to have forgotten her birthday. But knowing Hermione as well as they did, he didn’t believe one second that she was going to buy this story. Sighing, he put his fork down on his plate and turned to his friend. “Hermione, look…�

“Not now,� she hissed, still not looking up from the newspaper. But when it seemed to her that Harry wouldn’t give up, she sighed and just said, “Listen, I’m mad right now. I know a lot has happened in the past few weeks, but still… Just, leave me alone for a while, okay?�

Harry just wanted to open his mouth again to contradict, to say that he was truly sorry and that it would never happen again, when suddenly a swarm of owls descended into the Great Hall. At once it became rather loud, as wrappings and letters were opened by the students, just as every morning, but this morning something else happened as well, something that had never happened before since they had arrived in this time. One of the owls dropped down directly in front of Hermione, causing her to look up from the Prophet and her eyes widened in surprise, when she spotted what exactly was tied at the owl’s leg. Still slightly taken aback, Hermione untied the single pink rose from the owl’s leg and didn’t even notice it flying away, as she immediately turned to Harry and Ron, who were both looking at her curiously.

“Thank you, guys,� she said, sighing again. “I know you want to make it up to me, but it’s not just you, okay? It’s just…�

“But we didn’t send you this,� Ron blabbered out before he could stop himself. Harry winced, as he heard the words and immediately saw Hermione’s face close up again. Her mouth formed a small ‘oh’ before she forced her attention away from them to the rose on the desk in front of her, her face betraying the pain they had caused her, but also a certain curiosity, as she was looking at the rose.

“What’s this?� a well-known voice suddenly drawled, as Draco slumped down in the chair next to Ron. “Did one of you actually remember Granger’s birthday and give her this rose? Or is this just a lame way to apologize for forgetting.�

Ron just wanted to tell Draco off, as the blond haired man pulled a longish box, wrapped in green paper, out of his pocket and handed it over to Hermione without saying a word. The young witch muttered a quiet ‘Thank you’ and smiled at Draco, as she unwrapped the gift and opened the box. Inside was a beautiful light brown quill.

“Excellent quality,� Draco explained. “I got one of these for myself and I’m mostly satisfied with it. It’s not for grading papers, mind you, but maybe you could use it to write letters or something like this.�

The smile on Hermione’s face widened, as she examined the quill from all possible angles, but couldn’t detect a single flaw. The wood was smooth and she was quite sure that it would take a long time until it would splinter or soak up the ink. “Thank you, again, Draco. This is beautiful.� While saying this, Hermione shot her best friends an angry look. “I better head to class now. There’re still some things I need to prepare.� She put the quill back into the box and carefully folded the wrapping paper, before she got up from the chair, gently picked up the pink rose and walked past Harry and Ron, once again glaring at them, and Draco, whom she gave a bright smile.

Harry groaned almost inaudible, when Hermione had walked trough the doors out of the Great Hall, and almost let his head fall on the table – only that this wasn’t a very mature thing to do and he had to keep in mind that he was a professor now and therefore a role model for the students. How could this day just start out so wrong? Admitted, he and Ron had messed up, but they were planning to make it up to her! It had been a hectic few weeks and surely she must understand that things like birthdays could slip their minds. Maybe she would have understood it, if Draco hadn’t turned up and not only remembered her birthday, but had also been as thoughtful as to buy her a great gift. He turned to look at the man, who had once been his arch-nemesis, and, noticing that Ron was scowling at the same man the whole time, while gruesomely chopping his sausages, sighed. Right now Harry just wished to be in his room with his essays to wait out the day until everything was back to normal.

As the day passed by, Harry began to hear the most curious things. He had heard some students – rather excited third years Hufflepuff girls – whisper about their last Transfiguration class. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but when the words Professor Granger and yellow roses reached his ears, he couldn’t help but slow his steps along the corridor, hoping to catch more of their conversation. Apparently another owl had flown through the open window of the classroom and delivered, not just one, but two yellow roses.

Now his own curiosity started to grow. Who was this stranger who was sending her those roses? He was sure that it was neither him nor Ron, obviously, and he believed he knew Draco well enough to know that it wasn’t him. But who else? A student most likely, or maybe a fellow professor? Ron had been pointing out a lot that Hermione seemed to have befriended this Christophe Hayden and was spending (way too) much time with him. Maybe it was him?

Harry shook his head. This was just guessing and speculation. Maybe the mysterious stranger would show himself soon.

.

It was at lunch that Ron told him about what he had heard some first years Gryffindors gossip in front of the Great Hall. “They said that during their class an owl delivered three red roses to Hermione. Can you believe this? Three red roses!“ And so Harry referred to what those girls had said about Hermione having received two yellow roses during her first class of that day. “Hermione’s still got one more class today and I honestly don’t want to know what her students will be talking about then.�

Harry could only agree with his friend. Somehow, he had a strange feeling. Not bad strange, just strange. Whoever was sending those roses to Hermione certainly knew how to do it. First the pink rose, for a happy birthday, then the yellow ones, for friendship and then the red ones, for love. The only other colour of what he knew the meaning was white, for pure love. He idly wondered, if the sender would really dare this next step or if he would just stop with the red roses.

Suddenly feeling rather anxious, Harry left his lunch almost untouched and pushed his chair back. He gave Ron an apologetic smile, before heading out of the Great Hall and outside. Fortunately there weren’t many students outside, so he only needed to walk a bit until he was alone. Harry pulled out the packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, opened it and, after having put one cigarette into his mouth, lit it with his wand. Relief immediately flooded through him, as some of the tension began to leave. Since Harry had started his style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>career as professor, he made it a point to not be near any students, when he went to satisfy his cravings, as not to give them any ideas. And until now, he had been successful. The others never liked it, rather Hermione and Ron usually complained when he wanted to smoke in their common room, so he tried to avoid this, too, but fortunately he knew some spells to clean the air inside a room, so it didn’t bother him to smoke in his bedroom.

Halfway through his third cigarette, Harry felt a light warming on his left arm. He had put a spell on his watch to alert him, when it was time for him to go to his classroom and this was the signal that he only had a couple of minutes to spare until the first students arrived. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and muttered a quiet, “Scourgify� so that the last one and the other ones disappeared, before he went back inside. One more class and then no more teaching until Monday.

This time, Ron was waiting for him in their common room after their last class. Harry would have just loved to let himself drop on the couch and praise the weekend, but there were still two matters on his mind. The remaining essays and Hermione. Of course, at the moment, Hermione was the more important matter – he and Ron still needed to make it up to her that they had been this inconsiderate. But somehow, he doubted that they could do anything to surpass the roses she had been receiving all day long. They hadn’t heard anything yet about her last class, but this would change as soon as the woman in question stepped through the portrait hole.

They talked a bit, throwing ideas back and forth for a good present, though nothing good seemed to come out of it – Harry just felt so unimaginative. About half an hour had already passed since Harry had stepped into the common room, so, when the portrait swung open again, both jumped startled, but it was only Draco.

“Don’t let me bother you,� he told them smirking, as he walked across the room and sat down in the armchair he had claimed at the very beginning of their stay at Hogwarts. Throwing his legs over one armrest, he peeled himself out of the black robe he was usually wearing for teaching, revealing the black T-shirt and blue jeans he was wearing underneath. Harry wondered again from time to time, when he saw Draco like this, how someone, who seemed to despise Muggles that much, kept to wearing their style of clothes.

Harry and Ron threw each other a quick glance, as Draco picked up a book that he had left there last night and opened it somewhere in the middle to continue his reading. It was impossible now to further discuss Hermione’s birthday. However, they wouldn’t have had any time anyway, because only a few seconds later the portrait swung open again and Hermione stepped inside, carrying next to her bag a bunch of roses – one pink, two yellow, three red and four coral roses. This surprised Harry. He had almost been convinced that it would be white roses. But most of all he asked himself, what the colour coral meant, if it even had a meaning.

“Phew, this has been one hell of a day,� she muttered, as she put the roses on the table and set her bag on the floor. Hermione wiped her forehead with the back of her hand before also shedding her outer robe and sitting down in the last armchair. She made a flourish movement with her wand and a vase appeared on the table, already filled with water. She put the roses inside of the vase and, after having given them one last look, turned to Harry and Ron, who were watching her warily. “They really aren’t from you, are they?� When both of them shook their heads, Hermione sighed. “That’s weird. I really wished I knew who to thank for these. They’re truly beautiful. It’s been a long time since someone gave me roses.� She sniffed at them and then sighed again. “I also really would like to know, what the coral ones mean. I know the meaning of the other ones, but these are new to me…�

“Desire,� Draco answered, as he looked up from his book and rested his gaze on Hermione. “Coral roses mean desire.� When he noticed the bemused looks on Ron’s and Harry’s face, he put the book back on the table and got up from the armchair. “Don’t stare at me like this. We had a lot of flowers in the gardens back at Malfoy Manor, so it’s almost inevitable that you learn a lot about them and their meanings. Now, if you’d excuse me, I still have to finish some work.�

“We’re sorry, ‘Mione,� Ron said this time, when Draco had disappeared in his room.

“I know,� she answered. “And I’m sorry that I acted this way this morning. It isn’t your fault. We’ve all been preoccupied and as I already said, it wasn’t just you. I- I just realised this morning that I can’t talk to my parents and that they’re probably worried about me. If their even still alive… It’s been more than one and a half months since the battle at the Burrow and I’m scared to find out what has happened to everyone after we were brought here.�

Harry noticed the tears in her eyes and immediately went up to her, engulfing her in a gentle hug. He could vaguely imagine how she felt like – the Weasleys, Remus and of course Hermione and Ron were his family in the other timeline and he would most likely feel the same, were he stuck in this time alone; but at the same time he also felt bad, because in this time, he had his parents and didn’t need to worry about them in their time. “Don’t cry, ‘Mione. Dumbledore will find a way to bring us back, to the exact moment we left, so there’s no need to worry.�

“Oh Harry,� she cried. “I’m so sorry. I really shouldn’t have been this angry with you about a small thing like my birthday.�

“Who said that your birthday is a small thing?� Ron asked. He also got up from his armchair and completed the group hug. “We will make it up for you, I promise. We will ask the House Elves to prepare a huge cake with chocolate cream for you, with twenty-two candles and lots of calories…�

A small chuckle was to be heard from where Hermione had buried her face in her friends’ robes and both young men grinned, when she muttered, “Don’t you dare do this, Ron Weasley. The House Elves have more than enough work to do without you asking them to bake a cake.�

A/N: Okay, sorry again that it took a bit longer… Exams have gotten in the way, but now I finally have time to write. I mean, I managed four chapters within two weeks for different stories, sounds promising, don’t you think. I hope you like this one as much as you liked the last one(s)! Reviews are appreciated as always, thanks for them. Oh, and I say it again, just in case – the name of the Muggle Studies Professor Christophe Hayden doesn’t stand in any relation to the actor Hayden Christensen (Star Wars). It’s just a coincidence that I chose this name, especially as I didn’t even know the actor then. (though I have to admit now, he’s quite a hottie *grins*)

Another quick information: I just found out a few days ago that Charlie and Bill aren’t even supposed to be at Hogwarts when this story is set, but I hadn’t found this info earlier, when I started this fanfic, actually I guessed given by the dates that the same site had displayed then (which had been different), the dates of their Hogwarts career. Well, it can’t be changed anymore in this fic… for those who are interested in the site where I found the info (it’s actually great), here’s the address (I believe many of you know this website already): www. hp-lexicon. org

And now, have fun with this chapter!

Chapter 17: A Boggart, Quidditch and an Announcement

Quidditch was in the air.

Harry was very certain of the fact and this not only because he knew that tomorrow, on Saturday, the first match, as seemed to be usual, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, was going to take place. In the halls everywhere and also in his last class on Friday, the students were chatting almost non-stop about the coming match. They didn’t even seem to register when he had stepped into the classroom and they hadn’t stopped until he had dropped his bag on his desk with a nice loud bang. Immediately every head turned to him and he smirked. If the spirits were already so high because of a Quidditch match, he didn’t even want to think about how the students would act after the announcement that Dumbledore would make at dinner tomorrow.

“Now that I finally got your attention, I can start my class,� he told his fourth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. “Because today I’ve got a special treat for you. I noticed that you all did very well in my previous classes and I don’t think that anyone of you will flinch anymore, when I say the name Voldemort.�

And he was right, there was no reaction coming from any student. It had taken some time, now about six weeks actually, but he had finally achieved his goal with them. He had helped them understand that they didn’t need to fear a name. His other fourth year class, the Hufflepuff-Slytherin combination, hadn’t come that far, yet. Mainly because the Slytherins straight out refused to speak the name.

But now came the big test. “Does anyone of you have an idea of what my treat could be? Mr. Weasley,� he said, as Bill Weasley raised his hand, along with several other students.

The red-haired boy’s eyes wandered to the trunk next to the professor’s desk, as he replied, “The Boggart.�

“Exactly. Today you’re going to face the Boggart and fight it. I just don’t hope that it will turn into a stray Bludger, because I don’t think that we’re prepared to face one of them today, or does anyone of you have by chance a bat at hand that we could use?�

A couple of students laughed at his joke and one boy in Ravenclaw colours asked loudly, with a bright grin on his face, “Mine is in the common room. Should I get it? I mean, better be safe than sorry.� More laughter and even Harry chuckled lightly, as he walked over to the trunk.

“No, thank you, Mr. Sears. But thanks for the offer. Now,� he said, stopping next to the trunk and facing the class. “Please come all here and get into a line. I believe you all know the spell to fight a Boggart? Can someone name it? Yes, Mr. Linford?�

“Riddikulus.�

“Correct. Who would like to start? What about you, Mr. Sears, maybe you might need your bat after all?� The Beater from Ravenclaw, a rather lean boy with longer shaggy blond hair, bravely stepped forward at the beginning of the line. “Alright, you know what to do. Think about what you fear the most and then of something that might ridicule your worst fear. You know the spell. Wand at the ready.�

The boy shakily held his wand in his left hand and his mouth was set in a grim line, as he thought about his worst fear. For a moment Harry contemplated about using Legilimency to see this boy’s fear to be prepared, but then decided against it. He might be distracted by someone probing his mind and that was the last thing that Harry wanted. A quick nod from the boy told him that he was ready and Harry unclasped the latches and opened the lid.

Harry halfway expected it to be in fact Voldemort, since this had been their previous teacher’s reason to not show them a Boggart, but he was surprised to see that it was a dragon, a Norwegian Ridgeback if Harry wasn’t completely wrong. Fact was that it reached the ceiling of the classroom even without raising its head. Dark smoke came out of its nostrils as the dragon snorted and looked over the teenagers, who were now slowly inching backwards. Harry wondered, if he should step in, as the Ridgeback reared his head back, obviously planning to attack any second.

“Riddikulus!� the boy shouted and at the same moment as the dragon wanted to spit fire, it started to choke and instead of flames, the class was showered with pleasantly cool water. In addition to that, the whole dragon began to shrink until it wasn’t bigger as a dachshund and its roars had turned into an adorable squeak.

Harry grinned. “Alright, the next one!�

The students certainly had fun during this class, as each and every one of them faced the Boggart and it didn’t turn into Voldemort a single time. The worst fears of the students were mostly the most mundane things like spiders, snakes, trolls, banshees, vampires and one dark haired boy from Gryffindor was even afraid of clowns. In the end, after the last student had banished his Boggart, Harry wrestled it back into the trunk and closed the lid, before turning to his students. He was surprised, when a girl from Gryffindor raised her hand.

He called her name and she asked, “What does your Boggart turn into, Sir?�

Instead of answering her question, Harry looked thoughtfully at the rattling trunk and then at his watch. There were still ten minutes left, so it should be possible to show them. But were they ready to face something as terrible as the form his Boggart would take? Had he been ready their age? Yes, he had been more than ready, and the kids deserved to know about this creature as well. It might help them, should they ever get into the dire situation to face one of them.

“I’ll show you. Please step back.� He placed himself between the students and the trunk and faced it. With a wave of his wand, the lid sprung open and a dark creature rose out of the trunk. He heard several students gasp, as the Dementor took a rattled breath and he himself felt its effect as his stomach churned and he started to feel incredibly cold. A girl behind him whimpered and the shuffling of feet reached his ears. Harry, however, stood his ground, as the creature approached him and soon he could hear the voices in his head. Not Harry! Please, not Harry! Shaking his head and deciding that this was long enough, he pointed his wand at the Dementor, recalled the happy memory of meeting his parents for the first time and yelled, “Expecto Patronum!� The Dementor-Boggart stumbled back into the trunk, as Prongs bared his antlers and shoved them into the creature’s chest. The lid snapped shut and the class breathed a sigh of relief. Harry felt a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, as he watched as Prongs disappeared, and turned around to face a couple of ghostly pale students. “This was what my Boggart turns into. What was this creature?�

“A-a Dementor?� a shaking Ravenclaw girl mumbled.

“That’s right,� Harry said, nodding. “Please read up on Dementors until next class. We’ll talk about this dark creature then and also about the charm I used to repel it. You can go now. I’ll inform the house-elves to supply your common rooms with large quantities of chocolate. It will make you feel better again, I promise. So eat it, lots of it, because I don’t want any of you to miss the match tomorrow!�

~*~

Saturday, October 18, 1980, came with simply brilliant weather. There was no cloud to be seen at the ceiling of the Great Hall and the sun was shining down at them warmly. It promised to become a great day for Quidditch, as there was no wind at all and the only thing that might even remotely bother the players was the bright sun. At breakfast the Great Hall was already packed with students bearing either the colours of Gryffindor or of Slytherin. The Gryffindor house table went up in a cheer, as their team stepped into the Hall, already packed with their brooms.

Harry sighed, relishing in happy memories, as he watched this. Those were the days, when he had been welcomed with the team like this… Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Ron giving Charlie the thumbs-up, as the younger Weasley looked at the staff table. “You’re supposed to be unbiased,� he mumbled to his friend and nudged him in the rips with a sharp elbow. “Don’t forget. You’re the referee in this match.�

“No need to hurt me, mate,� Ron complained, rubbing his rips, but grinned. “You’d rather tell style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>them this…�

Harry looked up to the large wooden double doors and saw Hermione and Draco enter, both decked out in the colours of their houses and obviously engaged in a rather heated discussion, which first stopped, as they joined Ron and Harry at the staff table.

“Good morning,� Hermione greeted them brightly, helping herself to some scrambled eggs. “Isn’t this a beautiful day? Perfect to squash Slytherin.�

Ron snorted into his goblet of pumpkin juice and turned his head to look at Hermione, who was now calmly eating her breakfast. Harry also looked at her a bit surprised. Though Hermione had always supported him and Ron during their matches, she had never shown her interest in defeating a team like this. She almost seemed passionate about the upcoming match.

“Dream on, Granger,� Draco said haughtily, as he filled some coffee into his cup. “Gryffindor will never win this match.�

“What do you want to bet that Slytherin wins this match?� Hermione asked him, smiling daringly. “Before you answer, I just want to remind you that we have Charlie Weasley as Seeker and I heard that he’s superb.�

“What about ten galleons for the outcome of this match and fifty for the Quidditch Cup?� the Head of Slytherin suggested slyly and already extended his hand, reaching over the table.

Hermione seemed to think for a moment, but then a smirk crossed her face. She took his hand, meeting him halfway directly in front of Ron and Harry and said, “I accept. Ten galleons for this match and fifty for the cup.�

“You’re bonkers,� Ron hissed at her and since Harry was sitting between them, he couldn’t help but overhear. “That’s a total of sixty galleons!�

But Hermione only dismissed him with a quick wave of her hand. “I wouldn’t worry about that.�

A small grin tugged at Harry’s lips, as he noticed the certainty with which Hermione was acting. “What do you know that we don’t?�

Before she could answer, the team members of Gryffindor suddenly got up again and left the Great Hall, obviously heading to the changing rooms at the pitch. Harry, forgetting his question, looked at his watch and saw that the match would start in half an hour.

Slowly, one by one, other students also left the hall and the Slytherin team followed about five minutes later. When Draco was at last also finally finished with his breakfast, the four of them walked between the students to the top box for the teachers halfway between the fifty feet high goal posts. Ron parted ways with them before they got up. From the top box they could see him bringing out the large wooden crate with the four different balls – one Quaffle, two Bludgers and the tiny Golden Snitch – and carrying his broom under his arm.

The top box filled out quickly with the other staff members and even Hagrid managed to squeeze in between them. There were only ten minutes left until the match started and a look around told Harry that most of the students were already in place. Dumbledore smiled at them and sat down behind them, but then suddenly Harry jerked around, as he heard familiar voices.

“I see you noticed my special guests, today,� the Headmaster said winking, as James and Lily Potter and Arthur and Molly Weasley stepped into the box, sitting down next to Dumbledore. Arthur and James gave each of the young men – even Draco – a tight handshake and the women only smiled at them.

“Not that I’m not glad that you’re here,� Harry said, still surprised, seeing as his parents hadn’t told him that they would come. “But what are you doing here?�

“We’re here to watch the match, of course,� James answered, as if it were the most obvious reason in the world. “Gryffindor versus Slytherin – it’s a classic.�

“Don’t listen to him,� Lily said grinning. “Quidditch was only one reason. We also wanted to see how you’re doing, with teaching and all that. I must say, we heard the most interesting rumours, but maybe you could tell us about them later?�

“Where’s Ron?� Molly Weasley suddenly asked, as she had looked around the box and not seen him there.

“He’s down there,� Hermione informed her, motioning at the pitch. “He’s refereeing the match.�

“Ah, there he is,� Arthur exclaimed delighted and at the same moment, Ron looked up and smiled brightly, when he spotted his parents in the box.

“’scuse me,� they suddenly heard, as a black teenage girl with dark dreadlocks fought her way to the front, where the magical megaphone was lying.

“Ah, Miss Jordan,� Dumbledore greeted her amiably. “Are you ready to commentate the match?�

“Aye, Sir,� the girl replied grinning and suddenly Harry knew why she had always seemed so familiar, when he had seen her in his fifth year DADA classes. A low chuckle escaped his lips, as he thought of the irony of this. This Emily Jordan must be somehow related to Lee Jordan, an aunt or something like that. He was curious if she was as impartial as Lee while commentating.

The clock strung eleven and at the same moment, the Slytherin team stepped onto the pitch. Emily Jordan raised the megaphone to her lips and began. “For Slytherin we have as usual the rather sturdy players Adlam, Byington, Truax, their captain Hazard, Denton and Lawley. The only exception of this team is second year Seeker Lisa Scarborough who just joined the team this year.�

Harry grinned again, when he saw the members of the Slytherin team. Rather sturdy was the understatement of the century. All six male players were extremely tall, fifth year and older, and bulky and seemed to be thinking more with their muscles as with their brains, except for their Seeker, who was truly tiny, even for a second year student. Well, at least some things never changed.

“Aand for Gryffindor we have the team captain and Beater Baker, her fellow Beater McHarg, the Chasers Osborn, Emerson and Clowes, Keeper Ackers aaaaaand Seeker Weasleeey!� Cheers went through must of the stands, as the Gryffindor team stepped into the light. “Now Hazard and Baker shake hands! Hey, don’t crush her fingers you prick! Sorry professors,� she added quickly, giving the teachers behind her a quick smile and Harry’s grin widened. The comments already promised to become interesting. “Professor Weasley opens the crate and it’s started!�

The two Bludgers immediately went into the air, as well as the Golden Snitch, which fluttered for a moment in front of Harry’s face, who had to resist the urge in his fingers to grab it, and then disappeared.

“Osborn in possession of the Quaffle and he directly goes for the Slytherin goals!�

Harry recognized Osborn immediately. The rather short and scrawny boy with auburn hair was in his fourth year DADA class – his Boggart was a frog (He had only shrugged and said, “I could never stand them.�). The team captain Baker was a petite black haired sixth year, but she appeared to be extremely strong, as she had just sent a Bludger from on end to the pitch to the other end. The other Beater, McHarg was the pure epitome of what a Beater should look like – sturdy and tall, like a wall, with short brown hair. Emerson was a girl in her third year at Hogwarts. She was a rather tall brunette girl for her age. The last Chaser, Clowes, was in his fifth year at Hogwarts and his built was rather normal for a boy his age, taller and lean. Much to his surprise, the Keeper of the team was, unlike he had known it until now, a girl. Ackers was in her seventh and therewith last year at Hogwarts, tall and thin. He truly wondered how she managed to protect that goal posts, but she did, almost effortlessly.

But his eyes were mostly on the Seeker, Charlie Weasley, third year, stocky built, but he was steadily circling the pitch, searching like a hawk for the Golden Snitch. The tiny Slytherin Seeker tailed him, but Harry had learned a long time ago that you had to look for the Snitch yourself, or else you’ll most likely lose.

“Foul!� Emily Jordan yelled and Harry’s head whirled around to Emerson, who was holding her bleeding nose. “Hey! Byington! Do you need glasses? A head is not a Bludger!� Harry wondered why no one in the box saw the need to reprimand her – though Hermione was eyeing the girl with a deep frown on her face, obviously ready to grab the megaphone and throw it away. “Penalty to Gryffindor! Emerson wants to perform it herself and… yes! Ten points to Gryffindor! It’s now thirty to zero!�

“And the match continues! Truax got the Quaffle, passes to Denton, who passes to Hazard and… damn, Ackers could have never gotten this. Thirty – ten!�

Harry watched the match, fascinated. His whole body was itching to climb on a broom and join them. According to the anxious look on Ron’s face, as he had passed them one time to dodge a stray Bludger, and the way Draco was cursing under his breath, every time the Slytherin Seeker did something stupid, they were thinking along the same lines. Out of habit, his eyes were roaming the pitch for the Snitch, but it hadn’t
shown itself yet.

Time passed and the students were completely rapt by the suspense of the match. Gryffindor was still leading – ninety to fifty and still no Snitch in sight. Another penalty went to Gryffindor, as Truax and Denton were holding Ackers, so that Hazard could score freely.

Hundred to sixty.

“Slytherin team captain Hazard calls for a time out! Gryffindor also uses the chance to once again go over the strategy. Baker talks to Weasley, but he only shakes his head. I believe none of us has seen the Snitch, yet.�

The sound of a whistle went through the air and the teams rose again into the sky.

There were a couple of near misses with the Bludgers, as the match continued, as Slytherin seemed to have decided to use a more offensive tactic than before. Baker and McHarg had a lot to do to keep the Bludgers away from their own team members and this seemed to have become the highest priority, especially as Slytherin’s Beaters had now made it their responsibility to viciously attack Charlie Weasley to knock him off his broom.

Harry heard some gasps from behind him, as Molly Weasley again had to watch such a near miss that could have hurt her son. He looked at his watch. Time had flown. It was already three o’clock in the afternoon and still no Golden Snitch. The score was one hundred and seventy to eighty for the golden-red team.

“Come on,� Harry mumbled under his breath, now sitting on the edge of his seat because of the suspense. A quick glance to his left told him that Draco was also looking a bit dishevelled, especially since his team was ninety points behind. Only the Golden Snitch could help them now. Harry looked to his right and saw that Hermione had obviously given up on Emily Jordan, as she was now sitting back quite relaxed, while everyone’s nerves were ready to burst. She also looked at her watch and then straightened, with a small victorious smile on her face.

Harry turned back to the pitch and then he saw it, the Golden Snitch, directly next to Charlie Weasley. He held his breath, inwardly hoping that the boy would see it and indeed, his head suddenly jerked around, when he had obviously spotted the small fluttering wings and his hand shot out.

A loud cheer went through the crowd and Slytherin students booed, as Charlie rose higher, yelling that he had it. His fist was in the air and the other members of the team were rushing at him and tackling him, so that they almost succeeded with doing what the Bludgers hadn’t managed.

“Charlie Weasley got the Snitch! He got the Golden Snitch in a rather unspectacular catch! Kinda anticlimactic, if you ask me, but whatever… That means, Gryffindor wins with three hundred and twenty to eighty!�

Hermione was grinning widely as she turned to Draco, who was running his hand through his hair. “Well, I guess this means that I won our little bet. This makes ten galleons for me.�

However, instead of a rude comment or insult as Harry had expected, Draco only smirked and said, “You may have won this match, but the Cup will be mine.�

~*~

After the match, the four of them had gone into their common room, along with Harry’s and Ron’s parents. The five males (even Draco had joined them) were once again going over the match, pointing out mistakes and good moves from both sides. The women were sitting in another corner of the room, mostly slandering about the men and their obsession with Quidditch. Harry watched them a bit out of the corner of his eyes and was glad to notice that Hermione got on so well with his and Ron’s mothers from this time.

All too soon it was time for them to go to the Great Hall for dinner. In the Entrance Hall, the Potters and Weasleys said goodbye to their sons and their friends and left, as they had only come for the match and the few hours until dinner. (“Better get home now,� Lily had said. “I don’t want to know, what kind of nonsense Sirius has taught Harry in our absence.� As answer James had only whispered into Harry’s ear, “Only the ways of a true Marauder. See you soon, maybe sooner than you think.�)

The Gryffindor table was still partying, chatting loudly and even singing and Harry didn’t want to be in Hermione’s shoes tonight. He could very well remember how much trouble McGonagall had always had to get them to bed after a successful Quidditch match.

When all plates were cleared and the students (especially the Gryffindors to continue their party) were about to leave, Dumbledore rose from the chair and cleared his throat. “Before you leave,� he said smiling brightly with the seemingly ever-present twinkle in his eyes, “I have an announcement to make.�

The students sat back down again and gave Dumbledore a curious look. Harry grinned inwardly, knowing exactly what Dumbledore wanted to say and what kinds of problems this announcement might cause for some of the students, as he had also been a victim of something like this a couple of years ago.

“This year, in light of the situation, the staff decided that you, as students, needed to have some more fun. Because of this a Halloween Ball will take place this year. Yes, I know that there are only two weeks left, but I believe this will be enough time for you to find a date and something to wear,� he chuckled, when excited and worried whispers broke out at the tables. “The ball will be open for students of fourth year and above, though younger students may be invited by their partners. But for those who may not participate in this ball, a huge feast will be prepared in your common rooms. I promise that you won’t come off worse, be it the feast or what you do afterwards. You will be provided with music and snacks, but only until eleven o’clock.�

The younger students, who had started complaining, when Dumbledore had mentioned the age restriction for the ball, now also slowly got excited. If they didn’t miss out anything, except for some stupid and formal dancing, it didn’t sound as bad as before.

“I ask those who want to come to the ball, to put down your names on a list that you’ll find in your common room within the following week, only for information, so that we know how many will come. Oh, before I forget, you may choose between either wearing formal wear with a simple mask (don’t forget, it’s Halloween) or you may dress up as you like. The Great Hall will be charmed, so that you won’t be recognized by anyone, unless you tell the other about your identity. This charm will lift at midnight. Now, if there aren’t any questions, you may go.�

Excited chatter broke out again immediately after Dumbledore had finished his announcement, as the students filed out of the Great Hall. Harry was really glad that he, as teacher, didn’t need to bring a date, but it would certainly be interesting to watch the students during the next two weeks. Oh yes, it would be fun to watch how they coped with the task to get a date.

A/N: Thank you for your reviews! I’m glad that you’re still reading it, even though there usually passes some time between the updates, but I wonder, why out of 155 fans who read the last chapter, only three wrote a review… Whatever, this story will be finished, no matter how long it takes!

Well, I believe it is almost my duty as author to say something to HBP… At first I was simply shocked by the ending, but then, the more I thought about it and talked to other fans, I decided that thing are not as they seem. Yes, the person is still dead and will stay dead, but we may not forget that we saw the death from Harry’s perspective. He can’t know what’s going on in the other characters…

So, with that being said, I hope you have fun with this chapter!

Chapter 18: The Halloween Ball

Time passed quickly and the Halloween Ball was drawing nearer, especially with a Hogsmeade weekend the week before the Ball. If Harry were still a student, he might haven been worried, if he still hadn’t found a date, as it was already the Wednesday before the Ball, which was on Friday. Harry had even witnessed on his way to breakfast this morning, how a second year Hufflepuff boy asked, in a desperate attempt to be able to attend the ball, a seventh year Slytherin girl to go with him. Maybe this wouldn’t haven been that spectacular, hadn’t it happened in the Entrance Hall in front of almost the whole student body. The boy had been happy to escape this without any spell-damage, as Harry had managed to step in, before things would have gotten ugly.

The only truly negative aspect of the whole Ball was once again the inattentiveness of the students during classes. Harry was almost ready to give up on them, all of them, even the younger students who weren’t allowed to attend. For the students, gossip about potential dates seemed to be much more important than anything he could teach them about DADA. He even thought about giving them a pop quiz, but then decided that it would be too mean. Instead he just revised the spells they had learned until then and allowed them to duel a bit. This would teach them something and give them the possibility to talk to each other.

But worst of all was not, in Harry’s opinion, the behaviour of the students, but the behaviour of his fellow professors. Monday morning after Dumbledore had made the announcement, Harry had been pulled aside by Filius Flitwick. The tiny professor had asked him, how much he wanted to bet that two of their students would go to the Ball together. After a lot of stuttering, Harry had managed to get out of this conversation, but only because classes began. As he had found out later, Flitwick wasn’t the only one who loved to gamble about their students’ love life, as his other colleagues also approached him during the following days.

When he had asked Hermione about this, she had only blushed slightly and said, “Well, actually, I’m not surprised they’re doing this, because it’s the same in our timeline. Whenever there’s a Ball or something like this going on, the professors put their gold on different couples. They also place bets on who’s going to end up with each other at the end of the school year.�

Harry had been horrified after Hermione had told him this, especially when he thought about how he had also been – or actually, still was, as his friend had conceded after some more prodding – victim of his former professors’ entertainment in their time.

After he had found out about this disturbing news, Harry had managed to avoid this topic by making sure that there was always at least one student around, when he met one of his colleagues in the halls. At the weekly staff meetings, he excused himself as soon as the official part was over and the discussion of unofficial matters began. Much to the amusement of the other teachers, if he interpreted the twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes correctly, whenever he left early. Of course, he also had to endure Draco’s taunts and one or two comments about this from Ron, who found this entire situation extremely funny.

It was Thursday evening, just after dinner, Harry was sitting alone in the common room in his armchair and jotting down some spells that he wanted to try with his students the next day in one of his classes, when he heard a tapping noise at the window. He looked around and was surprised to spot the outlines of an owl in front of one of the windows. Quickly opening the window, after he had put the parchment and his quill on the table, he let the owl inside. It fluttered a bit around the room, before Harry could convince the owl to come down to him.

A parcel was tied at its leg, addressed at Professor Hermione Granger, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, East Tower. “Come here,� Harry mumbled gently, before he untied the parcel and placed it on the table next to his notes. After he had given the owl some treats, it left again through the same window and Harry closed it, wondering on his way back to the armchair what Hermione could have gotten and who had sent it. The handwriting was completely unfamiliar, but he also wasn’t aware that Hermione had ordered anything lately. She would have told them, if she were expecting anything, wouldn’t she?

His questions were answered, or at least some of them, when Hermione stepped through the portrait hole a few minutes later, followed by Ron. He waited until they had sat down and Hermione had noticed the packet to tell her that it was addressed at her.

“Really?� she asked surprised and picked it up. Her brows furrowed in concentration, as she gazed at the address, but eventually shook her head and hesitantly opened it. Harry and Ron both watched her and Harry noticed how Ron’s hand twitched to the pocket of his robes, where he usually stowed his wand. Harry was probably thinking along the same lines, as he was also ready to will his own wand into his hand and do something in case the content proved to be dangerous somehow.

But nothing happened, when she opened it. No bang or poof and Hermione also appeared to be alright, as she took a golden necklace with a ruby coloured stone out of the small box. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a small ‘o’, as she examined the jewellery from all angles.

Harry was speechless and Ron sputtered, now holding his wand in his hand. “’Mione, put it down. It might be jinxed!�

“It isn’t,� Hermione snapped, holding the necklace protectively to her chest. “I’m still okay, not cursed. Besides, have you forgotten that the mail into the castle is being searched for curses? It’s just a necklace. I just wonder, who sent it.�

“Look, there’s a note…� Harry finally managed to say and motioned with his hand to a small piece of parchment inside of the parcel. However, before Hermione could read it, Ron swiped it up and stared at it with scrutinizing eyes.

“As sharp as your mind,� he suddenly read out, his voice sounding mocking. “As fiery as your passion and as strong as your loyalty. Wear this necklace to the Ball and I will recognize you. What is this nonsense?�

Hermione tore the note out of his friend’s hands, seething with anger. “This nonsense is called poetry! Or at least an attempt at poetry. Whatever, it’s sweet and romantic!�

“Just when exactly did you start to care about romance?� Ron barked. Both of them were standing by now and glaring at each other. “You never cared about this before! You always said that this kind of stuff was just something for girls!�

“I am a girl! Just because it’s taken you some years to notice it, it doesn’t mean that it has suddenly changed! And besides, I was sixteen when I said this, Ron! Sixteen! Even then I didn’t mean it. I said it just to set me apart from Lavender and Parvati, whose behaviour had simply been sickening! Have you honestly never noticed how happy I’ve been, when you’ve done something romantic for me?�

Now it was Ron, who had lost all ability to speak. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but no sound came out, and Harry was glad for it. He didn’t want to experience another one of those rows; there had simply been too many at the end of their sixth year and their friendship had never been more endangered than at this time.

“Err,� Harry began, unsure of what to say to break this silence between his friends. “You really have no idea who could have sent you this necklace?�

Hermione shook her head and slumped down in her armchair, the necklace lying in one hand, the note clutched in the other. Giving those two items another glance, she carefully put them on the table and straightened the piece of parchment. Harry noticed that the handwriting on the note was the same as on the parcel and therefore unfamiliar. “It’s just like with those roses. I’d really like to thank the person who sent me those things—“

“So you believe that they’re from one and the same?� Harry questioned.

Nodding, Hermione looked up from the gift and sighed. “Makes sense, doesn’t it? It appears as if I truly have a secret admirer somewhere out there.� A small smile now tugged at her lips, as she put the note and the necklace back into the box and got up. “Well, I just have to wait two more days until I know who it is.�

Right at this moment, Ron found his voice and yelled, “You aren’t going to put this thing on and meet the bloke, are you?�

“Yes, I’m going to put this thing on and meet the bloke,� Hermione said firmly and picked up the parcel. “And there’s nothing you can do to stop me from meeting him. You have no right. Not anymore,� Harry heard her mumble and looked at her, concerned.

“’Mione, be careful.�

“Don’t worry, Harry,� she reassured him. “I know you only care for my safety, but what should happen with all the other teachers, Dumbledore and the great Harry Potter in the Great Hall? We will go to the Ball together, just as we intended, and then introduce ourselves to each other once we stepped inside the Hall. This way, we’ll know who we are. Everything will be alright and I’m going to find out, who my secret admirer is and maybe, if he’s a student, put him in detention,� Hermione added with a wicked grin.

Harry laughed and even Ron couldn’t suppress the small smirk on his lips. Harry noticed this and guessed that it would be a memory worthy enough to come close to the Amazing Bouncing Ferret – incident in their fourth year to see Hermione put this bloke in detention. Somehow, he only hoped that Hermione’s secret admirer wasn’t their colleague Christophe Hayden, because, to be honest with himself, he was the main suspect. Ron hadn’t even needed to point out again and again how much time he and Hermione were spending together for Harry to come to this conclusion.

The last two days of classes passed almost in a blur, for both the students and the teachers. The last two weeks of revising spells and several creatures hadn’t been wasted, Harry thought, as he watched the students of his last class of Friday file out of his classroom. Some things had already been forgotten again, but all in all he could say that he was proud of his achievements. Those students who had forgotten something, had just needed a push into the right direction to remember. It actually seemed that his lessons were at least mildly interesting.

When he arrived at lunch in the Great Hall late, after having brought his books back to his room, he immediately noticed that his wasn’t the only empty chair at the staff table. The Great Hall was packed with students, and some of them greeted him amiably, as he passed them on the way to the far end of the Hall.

“Hey,� he greeted Ron and Hermione, as he sat down between them. “Where’s Draco?�

“He’s sick,� Hermione answered, passing Harry the bowl with the vegetables. She sounded a bit worried. “I met him, as he came back from the Hospital Wing and he really didn’t look well. He was pale—“ Ron snorted and Hermione rolled her eyes, exasperated. They still hadn’t gotten over their argument, but it at least appeared as if they weren’t going to fight again. “Paler as usual and Madam Pomfrey has told him to go to his room and administered bed rest for the weekend.�

“But then—“

“He won’t be able to go to the Ball tonight,� she finished Harry’s sentence. “Yes, and it’s too bad that he can’t go. I really believe that he’s been looking forward to the Halloween Ball.�

Ron raised his eyebrow. “What makes you think that he’s been looking forward to this?�

“Honestly, haven’t you noticed how Draco has changed over the last few weeks?� At the blank looks on both Ron’s and Harry’s faces, Hermione sighed. “Apparently not. Yes, he has changed. He’s become a lot more, what is the right word, accostable. His students adore him, about as much as they adore you, Harry. It seems that he’s a good and interesting teacher, not just knowing his stuff, but also being good with the students.�

“How do you know all this?� Harry asked, completely dumbfounded. He still saw Draco only during the meals and sometimes, late in the night, passing through their common room, and Harry had never noticed anything different about his once enemy.

Hermione only shrugged and replied, “I have eyes. And I sat in on one of his lessons, oh, and don’t forget my birthday – he’s never given me a present before.�

Neither Harry nor Ron knew what to say to this revelation. Harry wondered, how he could have missed this. Of course, he knew that Hermione had been one of the first to give Draco a second chance, after his role in the war had become common knowledge. She had seen past everything he had ever done or said to her and offered him, if not friendship, then a truce. But he would have never thought that Hermione would ever show that much interest in someone whose aim in life seemed to have been to make their life to hell.

“Why?� Ron finally asked.

Again, their friend shrugged and turned back to her lunch. “Curiosity.�

Watching her out of the corner of his eyes, while he was helping himself to some mashed potatoes, Harry wondered if the reason for this sudden interest was really just curiosity.

Classes had been cancelled that afternoon, much to the delight of the students, so that they had enough time to get ready. Harry, Ron and Hermione had used that afternoon to visit Hagrid, whom they had befriended during the last few weeks, and the half-giant had told them happily that he would also come to the Ball. They talked for some hours, Hagrid having gone into a lengthy explanation of how his training of the Thestral foals was getting along, had a large cup of tea and the three time travellers fed the infamous rock cakes to Fang. Smiling, Harry thought that visiting Hagrid was still a thing that he liked to do, just to relax, even though this wasn’t their Hagrid.

All too soon it was time for them to return to the castle and, since the grounds were devoid of students, Harry used the few minutes until they reached the door to light one of his cigarettes. His friends looked at him disapprovingly, but kept quiet. Taking a quick glance at the open packet, he noticed that he needed to buy new ones soon (fortunately there was a store in Hogsmeade that sold Muggle cigarettes and his favourite brand on top of that), though another thing he noticed was that he had more left than he had thought. Had he really been so busy that he had forgotten to smoke? Shrugging he put the packet back into his pocket and, once they had reached the entrance, disposed of the stub with a wave of his hand.

The hallways were empty, as probably all students were now in their Houses to get ready for the Ball or for the festivities in the common rooms. The three of them reminisced about the Yule Ball in their fourth year and laughed a lot on the way to their chambers, Ron even going as far as imitating Harry’s attempt to dance, much to the younger man’s annoyance. As revenge, Harry reminded Ron of his tremendous skills as attentive date. Hermione only shook her head at her friends’ antics, but when they arrived at their portrait hole, the two men agreed that tonight they would pay close attention to the young couples to find out, if they had the same problems.

Once inside, they immediately went into their own rooms to get ready. Harry closed his door behind him and looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It was about half past four and the Halloween Ball would start at seven o’clock, so he still had more than enough time to… to do what exactly? There was still some homework that he needed to grade, but Harry wasn’t sure if he really fancied to do this. There must be more important things he could do, and, as his gaze travelled to his bed, Harry knew exactly what this was. A short nap couldn’t hurt before he had to take a shower and get dressed.

“You did well,� Harry hissed, as he looked down at the short masked person kneeling in front of him. He was sitting in an armchair, his wand resting lazily in his hand, in a large room. A fire was burning brightly in the fireplace in one corner of the dark room, but it seemed to be emanating no warmth. Another masked person was standing behind the kneeling one and two more figures were standing, no, floating, in front of a door and it was them, who caused the chill.

“Thank you, my Lord,� the first person mumbled and Harry smirked in satisfaction. It was a cleverly devised plan, hopefully enough to avert the attention from other matters.

“Lucius…� The second person bowed slightly, his long pale blond hair falling over his shoulder. “You know what you have to do.�

“Yes, my Lord.�

“Very well. You may go now, both of you. The old fool will never know what hit him.� Harry watched the two persons retreat and he felt how both suppressed a shudder, when they passed the Dementors. As soon as the door had closed behind them, a cruel smirk appeared on his face. Oh yes, tonight would be a night worth to remember… And he laughed, loud, the terrible sound echoing in the stonewalled room.

Harry was panting hard, when he awoke, pearls of sweat running down his face and his limbs were entangled in the bed sheets. His scar was hurting so much that it was hard for him to see anything. Closing his eyes, Harry forced his breath to calm down and his heartbeat to slow. It had been a few weeks, since he had last visited Voldemort’s mind and after he had used Occlumency for so many years to block him out, it took some time to get used to those visits again.

Harry lay there for a couple of minutes, completely still, until he opened his eyes again and his room came into focus. His scar was still throbbing, but not as much as before and it was bearable. While he was carefully sitting up, he ran his hand though his hair, trying to remember, what this vision had been about.

Voldemort had been there. And two men. One of them was Lucius Malfoy and the other… Harry shook his head. He had been wearing a mask and though the voice had sounded familiar, the memory of the vision was still foggy and started to fade already and Harry couldn’t figure out, whom it belonged to. They had been talking about something that would happen tonight. Only where? Old fool… He meant Dumbledore! Something was going to happen at
Hogwarts!

Harry had already halfway crossed his room to inform the Headmaster of what he had seen, when he stopped dead in his tracks. Telling Dumbledore would also mean to tell him about the connection he shared with Voldemort and Harry wasn’t sure, if he wanted to do this.

But wasn’t there something else, something he had missed? Harry tried to remember, but quickly found out that it was of no use. Everything except for what he had already recalled was gone.

Shaking his head, Harry went into the bathroom instead and stripped off his clothes. The water in the shower was almost scalding, hot enough to wash the effects of the vision off. His decision was already made. He wouldn’t tell Dumbledore. Hogwarts was safe – Voldemort hadn’t attacked the castle, Hagrid had told him that, when they had first met. And even if something was planned, Harry was sure that they would be able to stop it. He just had to keep his eyes open for anything suspicious and act, if he noticed something.

It was already half past six, when Harry stepped out of the bathroom, almost completely refreshed and a lot less worried, with a fluffy red towel wrapped around his waist. He waved a hand at the wardrobe and the doors and one drawer sprung open. Harry quickly selected the clothes he needed and took his black satin dress robes out, spreading them on his already made bed. Madam Malkin had tried to persuade him to wear other colours and in the end had only succeeded to sell him an emerald satin shirt. Black slacks and dragon hide shoes of the same colour completed the outfit.

After he had gotten dressed, he looked in the mirror, once again running a hand through his long hair. Open or tied back was the next question, which was quickly answered, when an extremely annoying strand of hair refused to stay where it belonged and instead fell into his eyes. He rummaged in one of the drawers until he found a black ribbon to tie back his messy hair. Harry took another look at his reflection and a male voice said, “You look truly handsome.�

“Thanks,� Harry muttered to the mirror, smirking. He had only gotten this mirror two weeks ago, when he had asked one of the House Elves if he could get one, so that he didn’t have to use the one in his bathroom the entire time. What the House Elf had brought him was this talking and obviously gay mirror. It had taken some time getting used to it, but he believed that they now got along fairly well. Winking at the mirror, he turned on his heels and left his room, just in time to meet up with the others fifteen minutes before the Ball would start.

Again, as it was almost every time when he had to meet the others, be it for any of the meals or other things, Ron was already finished (Harry still didn’t know how he was doing this) and waiting for him, or rather, them, as Harry noticed that Hermione wasn’t there yet. Ron was wearing dark blue dress robes with a black shirt underneath, which were a huge improvement to the dress robes for the Yule Ball. “You look good,� Harry complimented him grinning.

“You, too.�

But when Hermione came out of her room, Harry and Ron were once again rendered speechless. She was wearing a long deep red gown with golden embroidery around the low cut chest and the rim of the gown. The long sleeves were almost transparent, as her pale skin shined through the fabric and over her shoulders she wore a golden rimmed cloak of the same colour as the gown. Her hair was running down her back in gently brown waves, adorned with small braids and golden pearls. Around the eyes her face was covered with a mask in the same style as the gown and the cloak and Harry’s gaze finally fell on the piece of jewellery around her neck – the necklace from her secret admirer.

Ron had noticed this as well, as he just said, “You’re really wearing this thing!�

“Yes I am,� she answered, her voice once again cold, but Harry managed to cheer her up, when he ignored the necklace and said,

“You look lovely, ‘Mione.�

She smiled at him and replied, “You’re also pretty handsome, my friend. As are you, Ron.�

Harry poked his friend with his elbow, maybe a bit harder than intended, but it had the desired effect. “Yeah, ‘Mione… Sorry. You’re beautiful.�

“Thank you,� she said with a soft smile and extended both of her arms. “Well then, shall we?�

“Yeah… No, wait a second!� Harry suddenly exclaimed, as he waved his hand at the door so that it sprung open and muttered “Accio mask.� The black piece of fabric soared into his open hand and he placed it over his eyes, where it just remained sitting, thanks to the magic. Ron had also put his dark blue mask on and they finally took Hermoine’s arms. “Let’s go.�

The Entrance Hall was already bursting with activity, as the students waited to be let inside. Towering over all of them was Hagrid, wearing red clothes rimmed with white fur and a red pointy hat on his head. His beard and hair was white and if Harry wasn’t wrong, he knew exactly, what Hagrid’s costume meant. “Hello Father Christmas,� he greeted him smiling.

“Ah, it’s yeh, Harry, Ron, Hermione,� Hagrid said smiling and bent down to kiss Hermione’s hand. “Yeh look beautiful, m’lady.�

A rather un-Hermione-like giggle escaped her lips, but fortunately the others hadn’t the chance to comment on that, as the double doors suddenly opened and the students streamed inside. Ron and Harry again took each one of Hermione’s arms and led her inside.

As soon as Harry stepped over the threshold to the Great Hall, a short, almost unnoticeable wave of dizziness washed over him, and if he hadn’t known that the persons to his right side were Ron and Hermione, he would have wondered who they were. It wasn’t as if they had changed. No, they looked still the same as before, only it seemed that his head couldn’t make the connection between the persons next to him and their names. He had even forgotten, what his friends had worn, before they had entered the Hall.

Ron and Hermione (at least he was pretty sure that it was them) had similar confused expressions on their faces, so Harry quickly pulled them into a corner, where they might not be overheard – where would the fun be, if everyone knew who they were? – and said, “I’m Harry Potter.�

“I’m Hermione Granger,� Hermione followed his lead and next was Ron, who introduced himself to them.

Finally his mind was able to understand the connection between the names and the persons and Harry grinned. This truly was a brilliant piece of magic. When Dumbledore had said that the Great Hall would be enchanted, so that no one would be recognized, he had imagined that he would do something to change their appearances, but this was much better.

Now that they recognized each other again, Harry gazed around the Great Hall, impressed. The decorations were far better than at any of the Halloween Feasts he had attended at Hogwarts. The ceiling showed the dark cloudy sky and the lightning that flashed across the sky, followed by a low rumble. Hundreds of candles floated high above their heads, lightening the Hall in a soft glow and in the light, Harry could see many bats and grimacing pumpkins flying around, chasing each other. Now and then, one of the pumpkins would cry out or emit a wicked laugh. Scarecrows were standing at the walls and many other smaller, but no less scarier things were completing the eerie atmosphere of the Hall.

Instead of the four house tables and the staff table, round tables were littered in the Great Hall, much like it had been at the Yule Ball. Each of the tables were meant for about eight persons, though dishes might appear or disappear, when the guests of the Ball decided to sit with more or less persons at the table.

Ron tugged at his sleeve and motioned with his head to a table, where he could still see three empty seats. “Shall we sit over there?�

Harry looked at Hermione, who grinned and then nodded, before he answered, “Okay.� They went over to the table and Harry asked, if they might sit down. The other guests, whoever they were, replied that they could and the three professors took the seats. Harry beamed, as he looked around and watched, how they all settled down at the tables, without inquiring about identities. This was truly great. It didn’t matter, if professors shared one table with students, or Gryffindors with Slytherins.

Once everyone was seated, Harry wondered, if Dumbledore would say something, but instead menus appeared on their plates and a soft, but slightly creepy music began to play in the background. Since he already knew, how it worked, Harry picked up the menu and looked at it, grimacing slightly, when he read the first line. “Bloody Brains?� he asked, slightly disgusted, looking at his friends for help.

Hermione only smirked at him and said, loud and clear, “Crispy Cockroaches.� Harry stared at her plate, not really knowing what to expect. He was almost ready to jump back or to vanish the plate, should there really appear cockroaches. But he truly should have known better, as her plate with filled with cevapcicis, along with some vegetable and chips.

Encouraged, Harry decided to try what had sounded so disgusting before. “Bloody Brains.� A large helping of Spaghetti Bolognese found its way on his plate and after a quick glance to his left, he saw that Ron was already heartily devouring some chicken. A look at the menu told him that it was probably the Vain Vultures that Ron had tried out.

Soon, the Great Hall was only filled with sounds of clattering dishes and excited chatter, mostly about the decorations and the food. Too bad that it was impossible to try every dish on the menu, Harry thought disappointed, but his stomach already started to protest and he still had to have dessert. Only that the ice-cream and pudding were simply too delicious to resist.

After the last student (or was it a teacher?) had cleaned his plate, the dishes disappeared and the tables were all magically pushed aside, without disturbing the persons seated at them, of course, to reveal a dancefloor in the middle of the Great Hall, with a circular stage positioned in the middle of the dancefloor, surrounded by curtains.

Finally, after endless agonizing minutes, the curtains parted to reveal seven unmoving and equally ugly gargoyles. Harry raised his eyebrow, but some girls immediately started to shriek and spring up. Before he even knew it, Harry held his wand in his hand, but stopped, when he saw that the girls were dragging their dates to the dancefloor. “It’s the Galloping Gargoyles!� one of the girls cried out. Harry wondered, what was so exciting about some stone figures, when they suddenly moved and conjured several instruments that looked remarkably Muggle (like drums and e-guitars) out of nowhere. At once the Great Hall was filled with the sounds of those instrument, the beginning of what appeared to be a rock song.

It didn’t even take ten seconds until the dancefloor was packed with dancing people. “Come on, Ron, Harry, let’s dance!� Hermione suddenly said and jumped up, grabbing their hands. Reluctantly, Harry let himself be pulled up, just like Ron, and on the dancefloor, mingling with the hopping students. Actually, the music wasn’t that bad, Harry had to admit. He could get used to it. But while they were dancing, Harry noticed that Hermione was looking over her shoulder and around the Great Hall every so often, as if looking for someone.

Harry excused himself after the second song, fighting his way through the mass of people to the bar. He filled a glass with fruit punch and clinked his wand against the glass to make sure that it wasn’t anything alcoholic (if it were, the red liquid would have turned green). Even if there were something alcoholic, he couldn’t risk getting drunk. Not, when he still had to keep his eyes open for anything unusual.

“Ah, Harry,� he suddenly heard a voice behind him.

Turning around, he looked confused at the person dressed in long and white flowing robes, holding a long white staff in his hands. Something clicked in his mind, as he tried to remember something, something Hermione had told him. “Gandalf?� he asked confused, remembering the name of the fictional wizard, whom Hermione had told him about just a few days before they had taken this unwilling trip to the past. “We really have to watch the first movie, when it comes out this winter,� she had said. “The whole Lord of the Rings series is truly fascinating.�

Gandalf chuckled. “Not quite, Harry, though many people, who have read the books compare him to me. I’m Albus Dumbledore.�

Just as it had already happened, when Hermione and Ron had introduced themselves, the confusion over his mind lifted and he saw Dumbledore standing in front of him. Harry grinned. “Nice costume.�

“Yes, I know,� Dumbledore returned his grin. “I first wanted to go as Father Christmas, but Hagrid beat me to it.�

Suddenly, one thought hit Harry. “You recognized me, but I didn’t tell you, who I was.�

Dumbledore chuckled again, his eyes twinkling. “Well, someone has to keep an eye on things. It would be too dangerous, if truly no one knew the identities of the others in this Hall. For better security, I even asked some of the Order members to be here tonight.�

“Really? Who?�

“Several… Ah, here’s one. James?� he called out to a man in red robes. The man looked over, and, after he had recognized the Headmaster (as they had obviously already revealed their identities to each other), walked up to them. “James, would you like to keep this young man company? I was about to get Minerva some of this delicious fruit punch. Cheers!�

Harry and James both looked at the disappearing form of Dumbledore, as he mingled again with the mass on the dancefloor, obviously in search for McGonagall. Shrugging, Harry turned back to the man Dumbledore had called James and held out his hand. “Harry Potter.�

James grinned and took the Hand. “James Potter. Gets a bit annoying, don’t you think?�

“Yeah, but it’s good to see the students interacting with each other like this, as if Houses didn’t exist,� Harry said, smiling. At least now he knew what his father had been talking about after the Quiddich match. “Do I know anyone else here?�

After having filled a goblet with the punch, James answered, “Next to your students and colleagues, I believe the only ones you know are Sirius, Remus and Peter. Oh, and you’ve already met Frank Longbottom, right? His son was born the day before you.�

“Yeah, I know Neville… and Frank. So, the rest of the Marauders are also present… Where’s Lily?�

“She had to watch little Harry, but told me to say hello to you. She actually asked, if you and your friends don’t want to come to dinner sometime.�

Harry shrugged. “Sounds good, by why don’t we ask my friends first, they’re over there.� He pointed to a table near the dancefloor, where Ron and Hermione were sitting. “At least Ron and Hermione. Draco’s sick.�

While they were walking over to the table, James asked, “By the way, why do you call him Draco anyway? Is it a nickname or something? I thought his name was Eirian.�

“It is,� Harry half-lied, “but he doesn’t like this name, so we call him Draco.�

They settled down at the table, and after they had once again introduced themselves, Harry repeated James’ offer. Ron and Hermione were happy to accept the invitation and they were just talking about a date for the dinner at Godric’s Hollow, when suddenly a men dressed in silky silver sparkling robes cleared his throat next to Hermione and asked,

“May I have this dance?�

Harry saw that Hermione blushed slightly, as she nodded and took the offered hand of this stranger. Ron was glaring at their backs, as they stepped on the dancefloor, where the Galloping Gargoyles were now beginning to play a slow rock ballade called ‘Good Night Sweet Girl’ (he had heard a girl telling her obviously Muggle friend this). “You reckon this is him?� the redhead asked.

“I believe so…�

Are we done for now
Or is this for good,
Will there be something in time?
With us there should.

“I don’t like him,� Ron said, crossing his arms over his chest, as the young man rested his hands on Hermione’s hips.

Only girl for me is you
There can be no other one
If I didn't have faith
I would come undone.

“A friend of yours?� James wanted to know, but Harry only shrugged, warily watching his friend dancing with this stranger.

So much promise in your eyes
Seems that I can only see
It always makes me wonder
If you save it all for me.

“’Mione’s been getting those strange gifts from a secret admirer and he said he would meet her tonight,� Ron answered instead.

James raised his eyebrow. “What kind of gifts?�

“A bunch of roses for her birthday,� Harry informed him. “And the golden necklace that she’s now wearing.�

Maybe you do
Maybe you don't
Maybe you should
Probably wont...

Because there will be...

There will be other guys
Who will whisper in your ear
Say they'll take away you sadness
And your fears.

They may be kind and true
They may be good for you
But they'll never care for you
More than I do.

I'll be always there
There to the end
I can't do much
But be your one true friend.

To the end
Through the end
Our lives to spend
With each other till the end
Of time...

Still see the promise in your eyes
And still wonder if it's for me
But I know it's still there
Even when you sleep.

So I say, good night sweet girl.

They had remained silent for the rest of the song, Ron’s and Harry’s eyes seemingly glued on the dancing pair. Damn that charm, Harry cursed inwardly. He wanted to know who that bloke was. He hadn’t met Christophe Hayden yet, so maybe it’s really him. Then again, it might just be a student.

After this slow song, the band started again a faster number and Hermione returned to the table, but only to take off her cloak and then disappear again in the crowd. Ron was fuming and Harry also felt some of the overprotective feelings kick in. To keep himself from staring at the dancefloor, where mystery guy and Hermione were now hidden behind other couples, he again started a conversation with James, though his heart wasn’t in it.

Harry again let his eyes stray over the crowd, but didn’t see anything suspicious. After a couple of more songs, three more persons fought their way over to their table and even though Harry couldn’t recognize them, he was pretty sure about their identities.

“James, here you are!� one of them exclaimed and slumped down on a chair. “We’ve been looking for you. Sirius Black, and you are?�

Harry sighed and exchanged a quick glance with Ron, as both of them already knew that Sirius wouldn’t be that friendly anymore, once they had introduced themselves. “Harry Potter.�

“Ron Weasley.�

Sirius scowled and one of the two still standing persons jumped back, hiding behind the first one, who smiled pleasantly and extended his hand. “Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you again, Harry, Ron, how are you and where are your friends?�

Smiling, Harry shook the hand and answered, “Thank you, we’re fine. And as I already told James, Draco’s sick, unfortunately, and Hermione is somewhere on the dancefloor.�

“Let me guess, she’s the lovely young woman decked out in Gryffindor colours?� the werewolf asked.

“That’s her. Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get us something to drink. You wanna help me, Ron?�

While they were going to the bar, Harry was still able to hear Sirius hiss, “I still don’t trust them.� with Peter, though he hadn’t revealed his identity, agreeing heartily and hear Remus answer, “James trusts them and so do I. Harry’s a nice lad and so is Ron.�

Harry and Ron returned a few minutes later with each holding three goblets in their hands to their table. Sirius and Peter had disappeared in the meantime, but James and Remus were still there and gratefully took the goblets.

A few hours later, midnight and therewith the end of the Ball was drawing nearer, Harry was standing at a far wall, observing everything that was happening in the Great Hall. A dull feeling had settled in his stomach, as though something bad was about to happen. If his vision had really been one, and if he had interpreted it correctly, Voldemort didn’t have much time left. But until now, nothing had happened and the Ball had proved to be much better than the Yule Ball, until now.

The only thing that had him a bit worried was the absence of Hermione. The last time he had met her outside the Hall, on the way to the toilets, and when he had asked her, who the mystery guy was, she had only answered, beaming, that she didn’t know yet, but would hopefully find out soon, and had returned to the Hall. Harry had to admit, it had been a long time, since he had seen her this happy. He just hoped that this bloke wouldn’t disappoint her, once he revealed his identity.

Harry was surprised, when Remus walked up to him and asked, “Mind if I join you? I’m not one for crowds.�

“I don’t mind,� Harry answered smiling, understanding him perfectly well. The Remus of his time also didn’t feel comfortable in large crowds.

They stood there in companionable silence until Remus suddenly spoke. “I meant what I said. I do trust you and your friends.� The werewolf looked at him for a few moments, before he said, grinning, “You’re truly the spitting image of your father, but you have the eyes—“

“Of my mother, yeah,� Harry answered out of habit until he suddenly realized, whom he was talking to. “H-how?� he sputtered.

Remus shrugged, still grinning. “It’s not that hard actually. I already found out about it shortly after you arrived, but I hadn’t yet the opportunity to talk to you about this…�

“Does my— I mean, James know that you…?�

“No, not yet. Didn’t want to cause him any trouble…I just wanted to talk to you first, to prove my theory. So, time travel, huh?�

Harry returned his grin, the spark in his eyes reminding him of Hermione, when she was about to learn something new and interesting. Harry just wanted to open his mouth to say something, when a cursing and scowling Ron approached them.

“I can’t believe her!� he growled, as he stopped next to them, took the goblet out of Harry’s hand and drank the remaining fruit punch.

Harry chuckled slightly, thinking that Ron maybe preferred something stronger than this, but was also a bit concerned. What could have enraged his friend like that? “What’s wrong?�

Hermione!� he spat. “I just caught her kissing this bloke! This is—“

However, whatever Ron wanted to say was cut of, as suddenly every head turned to the stage, where right now Dumbledore was standing and tipped his wand at his throat. “In case some of you haven’t noticed yet,� he said, his voice loud enough to stop even the last of the chatter, “I’m Albus Dumbledore, though some of my guests have already addressed me with Gandalf, which was actually my intention with this costume.�

A chuckle went through the crowd and a huge Father Christmas roared, “Cheers!� before he drowned a goblet that certainly wasn’t filled with the fruit punch.

“Thank you, Hagrid,� Dumbledore said grinning. “I hope you all had a good time and have talked to many people you normally wouldn’t talk to. Please keep in mind that those people are still the same, even though the charm will be lifted in five minutes, and that you can still talk to them, no matter what House or family they come from. Now, that being said, I want you to enjoy those last minutes to their fullest, before you have to return—“

Dumbledore paused, as a loud bang! was to be heard from the doors. Students that had been standing before them, immediately scurried away, as another one let the large wooden double doors vibrate.

“Whatever it is, stay calm! Prefects, be ready to bring the students back to their common rooms!� Dumbledore yelled and jumped from the stage with the agility of a young man. Harry willed his wand into his hand and noticed that Ron and Remus had also drawn theirs. So his vision hadn’t been wrong after all. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw a slightly flushed Hermione hurrying towards them, wand in her hand, but without her mystery guy. James and Sirius were on the other side of the Hall, standing in front of some younger students, while the older ones and others were now holding their wands in their hands, directed at the door.

A third and a fourth bang let the doors tremble even more, but the fifth one caused the doors to spring open. Students screamed and ran away, as something large and dark slithered into the Great Hall.

“A Basilisk!� a girl cried out and hid her face in her hands.

The Order members and teachers acted at once, sending spells and curses at the huge snake, the whole time trying to keep their eyes off the beast, but to no avail. It just shook them off, as its skin was too thick to be penetrated by stunners. But it was enough to avert the snake’s attention from the students that were trying to flee through the door, all of them trying to keep their eyes closed or to avoid looking at the snake. One student fell in the doorway and brushed the snake’s tail, which got its attention. The boy squeezed his eyes shut and tried to crawl backwards, as he had noticed that the snake was moving again.

“NO!� Harry roared, when he saw how the snake descended on the boy, the whole time trying to think of a spell that might help him, as other students and adults failed with theirs. “SECTUMSEMPRA!� he finally yelled and slashed his wand through the air, as he remembered one particularly nasty spell that he had once seen in Snape’s memories and he succeeded, if just slightly. The snake reared back, as its skin was cut open, giving the boy the chance to flee.

Its head jerked around and Harry thought too late of closing his eyes, as the snake looked at him. He was almost ready to die then and there, as he gazed into the snake’s yellow eyes, but much to his surprise, nothing happened. He was still alive and the snake was still just staring at him. One thought shot through his mind. This was no Basilisk! It was just a normal snake, just slightly enlarged.

After endless seconds of staring and deafening silence, everything happened at once. Just as Dumbledore raised his wand, the snake lunged at Harry and the young man shouted, “STOP!� The snake back-pedalled and if the silence had been deafening before, it was now even more so, as almost each and every eye was focused on him. It was then that Harry realized what exactly he had done and, cursing his stupidity inwardly, decided that there was now no going back. “What do you want?�

If it were possible, Harry could have sworn that the snake tilted its head slightly, before it replied, “My massster promisssed me food. He sssaid I would find it here.�

“Your master is wrong,� Harry said, pointing his wand at the snake. “Tell Voldemort this. I won’t let anyone hurt the students.� He waved his wand and the snake began to shrink until it was barely one foot long. It hissed at him, but Harry only scowled and threateningly directed his wand again at the snake. “Go now. Before I change my mind.�

Students and teachers alike jumped aside, as the snake slithered out of the Great Hall and through a small hole out to the grounds. Harry lowered his wand and winced, when he noticed that now everyone except for Ron and Hermione were staring at him – some in fear, some in disbelief and some in anger. The twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes was gone, as the Headmaster gazed at him thoughtfully. Harry sighed. This was not how he had imagined the night to end. Only somehow he doubted that his night was already over. What I would do for a fag right now…

But no one had the chance to say something, as only a few seconds later a student (Harry could now recognize them all – it was past midnight) came running into the Hall, yelling, “The Dark Mark! Over Hogsmeade!�

***********************************************************************************

A/N: Okay, there are a few things I’d like to say… First of all, I have absolutely nothing against homosexuals. Secondly, the Sectumsempra curse is one I’d find deadly useful, no matter how dark it is and I believe it could have happened that Harry had seen Snape using it in a memory during their Occlumency lessons. Oh yeah, and the song “Good Night Sweet Girl� is a song by the band “Ghost of the Robot�.

A/N: Again thanks for the reviews! You really make me happy, so keep them coming! To answer your questions: I won’t tell you yet, who Hermione’s mystery guy is. You either have to wait or, if you really want to know and can’t wait any longer, tell me and I’m going to send you a mail! If they will still trust Harry, well, you just have to wait again. Dumblydoor, why should Harry use Serpensortia? As far as I remember, you conjure a snake by using this spell and not make it disappear. Mmh, whatever…

Now, have fun!

Chapter 19: Repercussions

All was still for a split second. The students and teachers alike looked at the pale boy in shock, not wanting to understand, what he had just told them.

Harry balled his fists tightly, his fingernails almost piercing the skin of his palm, as his body began to tremble with sudden anger. Anger at his failure, at not having taken everything into account and anger at those, who had ruined this promising night! How could he have been so stupid? It had all been so simple!

The students around him now began to panic, pushing towards the doors and again, for the second time that night, Dumbledore’s voice boomed across the hall. “Stay calm and return to your dormitories. Prefects, please make sure that they arrive in one piece. And now, go!�

More bustling filled the hall, but this time it was calmer, more orderly, as the pupils followed their prefects out of the Great Hall. Excited and fearful whispers reached the teachers and members of the Order, as they gathered in the middle of the Hall. Harry looked around and saw equally grim looks on their faces. His fingers were already itching, longing to go out and do something, but he had to wait for Dumbledore’s orders.

Noticing the wary looks his colleagues were giving him, he just stared each and every one of them down, challenging them to say something, even though he knew that now wasn’t the time. Now also wasn’t the time to deal with another person that looked at him as if he had seen a ghost, obviously in denial about what he had just witnessed.

“My friends,� Dumbledore said with a seriousness and determination that wasn’t often seen within the Headmaster. “Hogsmeade is obviously under attack. It is our duty to help them.�

“Bloody right,� Harry mumbled impatiently, causing those near to him and the Headmaster to look at him. He gazed into Dumbledore’s eyes and saw at once that the ever-present twinkle was still gone. With his wand in his hand, Harry motioned to the doors. “What are we still doing here? Instead of talking, we should go out and fight!�

“Harry’s right,� Ron told them. “The longer we wait, the more people might die!�

A collective murmur went through the teachers, some in agreement, some not, causing Harry to become even angrier. Suddenly, his head jerked to the right, as one smaller person with watery eyes stepped forward – Peter Pettigrew. “P-professor. I’m n-not sure, if we can trust him. You’ve seen, what he did. W-what he is.�

Dumbledore nodded grimly and Harry was sure that he would be interrogated later. “Professor Potter and his friends will come with us to Hogsmeade. They will be of better use there,� he said eventually. And not a danger to the students, Harry understood the hidden motive. “Minerva, Filius, Pomona, I’d like you to stay at school, for the students’ safety. We can’t let any Death Eaters invade the school. Alright, everyone else, follow me!�

Ignoring the angry looks he was getting, Harry pushed past the other teachers and Order members, with Hermione and Ron at his side and after Dumbledore. He was glad for his friends’ support, as they flanked him on their way outside, but the rage in him was far greater than any happy feeling he could conjure. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any Dementors, because Harry was sure that he wouldn’t be able to perform the Patronus Charm.

There was no smile on Harry’s face, just a look of sheer determination and a deep scowl. He could feel the stares in his back, particularly one, but he didn’t turn around. He wasn’t ready to face his father, yet. Later, he told himself. But first he needed to do some violence. He felt the irresistible urge to curse someone, to hurt someone. He wanted to punish someone for his failure.

“What the bleeding hell is going on here?�

Harry turned around startled, when he heard this voice. Draco was running down the stairs into the Entrance Hall, with his black T-shirt hanging over his black jeans and a cloak hurriedly thrown over his shoulders. His silvery blond hair was completely dishevelled, his eyes red and his ghostly pale face blotchy. He appeared to be wheezing slightly, when he came to a halt in front of them and sweat was running down his face.

“What are you doing here?� Harry demanded to know. “Hermione told us you were sick.�

Draco sneered at him, even though it looked ridiculous in his current state. “I just got up to get something to drink and what did I see? A green glow in the direction of Hogsmeade. I came down to tell you about this, but you obviously already know.� After having straightened his cloak, he pulled his wand out of his boot and ran a hand through his hair.

“What do you think you’re doing?�

“Calm down, Potter. I’m coming with you.�

“You can’t!� His father would be there, Harry reminded himself, but he couldn’t tell Draco this. Not without giving his connection to Voldemort away. Struggling with an explanation, he only came up with the most obvious. “You’re sick.�

Snorting, Draco only replied, “A small flu like this can’t keep me from fighting, Potter.�

“Harry, Draco! Stop it!� Hermione interrupted them firmly, putting a hand on each arm. “We don’t have time to fight! And Harry, get a grip! Draco will come with us, whether you like it or not. We might need every capable wizard we can get.�

“Miss Granger, is right,� Dumbledore said. “We need to hurry, as you’ve pointed out yourself, Mr. Potter.�

Tearing his arm away from his friend, Harry snapped, “Fine!�, opened the strong doors of Hogwarts with a wave of his hand and stalked out into the grounds. He couldn’t lose any more time. Neither caring if his friends were behind him nor caring what they thought of him, he hurried over the grounds and, as soon as he had passed the gates, Disapparated.

Harry appeared in the middle of what could only be described as chaos. Villagers were running around, dodging flying curses and trying to find a hiding place. And among those villagers were the dark cloaked witches and wizards, who were responsible for this.

To avoid a jet of green light, Harry dived out of the way, immediately firing a stunner in the direction the killing curse had come from and hitting its intended target. His eyes darted around, searching for more Death Eaters. A series of loud ‘pops’ behind him alerted him of the arrival of the others, but he ignored them, rushing ahead to disarm another Death Eater and then knock him out with a well placed hook against his jaw.

His knuckles stung slightly, but Harry barely noticed this, as he kept on. Dodging, attacking, firing spells and curses. It was like a dance, a dance he knew very well. The Death Eaters went down like flies, now that the reinforcements from Hogwarts had arrived, and those, who were still standing, mainly targeted innocents and defended themselves against attacks.

He tackled another cloaked man, just as he raised his wand to curse a huddled group of small children. Quickly motioning for the children to run away and hide, he turned to the Death Eater that was just getting to his feet again. The unexplainable rage within him flared up again, when the mask fell aside and he recognized that the man was in fact a woman - dark haired and heavy-lidded.

“Hello Bella,� he growled, kicking her with his boot, before she managed to get up. She slumped again to the ground, breathing heavily, as Harry had obviously managed to break one or more of her ribs. He had never had the chance to revenge Sirius. But now, now he could finally do it. He wanted to hurt her! He wanted her to be in pain! “Crucio!� This word left his mouth, before he had even thought it and the woman on the ground began to scream and writhe in pain. Harry watched this with some kind of sick fascination, his eyes gleaming with the satisfaction this torture brought him.

An explosion let the earth tremble and Harry lost his footing and almost fell. The loss of concentration in this moment caused the curse to fade. Whirling around, he saw that a few buildings went up in flames, with wizards and witches, who had hid in there, locked inside. They were fighting to get out, but almost in vain, as the mostly wooden buildings quickly collapsed under the fire.

Hermione was hurrying towards them, her red gown billowing behind her, followed by Ron, and Harry could hear her shout, “Aguamenti!�, time and time again. Most of the fire went out, but also many lives were lost.

Somehow, this knowledge let an inexplicable happiness surge through him, a feeling of triumph. A smirk crept on his face, as he watched the happenings around him. This was good. All this fear, this panic… It was intoxicating.

He paled, when he realized, just what exactly he was feeling.

Harry barely managed to avoid another stray curse, as he slumped against a wall, grabbing his forehead, suddenly feeling sick. What was wrong with him? He shouldn’t be feeling this. This was wrong!

Shaking his head and trying to clear his thoughts, Harry took a deep breath, as it hit him.

Damn it! The anger, the happiness… Those weren’t his own feelings! How come he hadn’t noticed this before? It was Voldemort! He must have felt angry enough to transfer his feelings to him, after the disaster in the Great Hall. Only how had Voldemort found out?

This isn’t important right now! Harry reminded himself, not, when so many lives were at stake. It was hard, especially now with the battle raging around him, but he had to block him out. Breathe… Slowly, but steadily, Harry felt himself calm down. The happiness disappeared, as did a large part of his anger, just in time, as a voice suddenly cried out,

“Harry! Watch out!�

Fortunately, it had just been a simple stunner, so the shield that Harry had conjured quickly wandlessly didn’t break. He flashed Hermione, who was looking at him worriedly, a quick, reassuring smile, before he pushed himself off the wall. “I’m alright.�

Hermione appeared to be doubtful for a split second, as if contemplating, if he truly told the truth. This short moment almost proved to be fatal, if Harry hadn’t thrown her to the ground before an Avada Kedavra could hit her. “Thanks, Harry,� she mumbled startled, as he helped her up.

Now that he had the chance to take a good look at her, Harry was startled. Her once beautiful gown was torn in several places and stained with blood – hopefully not her own! – and dirt. She seemed to be sweating furiously, as strands of hair were sticking to her cheeks and forehead and the rest of her previously perfect hairdo was in complete disarray. And, Harry noticed with mixed feelings, she had lost the necklace. She looked a mess and Harry guessed that he didn’t look much better.

Tearing his eyes away from her, Harry looked around, trusting Hermione to watch his back, and instead of feeling happiness his stomach began to churn at the sight that greeted him. It must have taken him longer to regain his composure than he had thought, as most of the fires were already extinguished, leaving behind wrecked homes and stores, homeless witches and wizards and despair. On the plus side, almost all Death Eaters had already Disapparated, having even taken their stunned or otherwise incapacitated companions with them. Except for one.

“No,� Harry only mumbled and took off, with Hermione close at his heels, towards the two silvery blonds facing each other. He wanted to cry out Draco’s name, but knew that he couldn’t. Lucius would know, no matter what name he chose, now that he had taken a good look at the younger Malfoy.

Hermione almost bumped into him, when Harry suddenly stopped, only merely feet separating them from the two duellers. “Potter, stay out of this!� Draco barked immediately, when he had noticed their arrival. His grey eyes were cold like steel, his face filled with hatred and his body bursting with tension, all signs of his illness gone.

Upon hearing the other man’s name, Lucius Malfoy turned his head slightly, taking in the younger man’s appearance. “Potter?� he drawled. “Related to James Potter?�

As if you don’t know this already, Harry thought, but held his tongue. “We’re cousins,� he answered instead, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. Immediately he felt him attempting to breach his mind, without success.

“I see.�

Harry thought that Lucius didn’t sound convinced, but at this very moment, he didn’t care. Raising his wand, he threatened, “Leave now. Your henchmen have fled already. If you don’t leave, I’m going to kill you.� Lucius Malfoy laughed, still keeping the superiority in his voice, obviously hoping to scare them. This only let Harry smirk. “Oh, tell your master that I’m going to kill him as well, if he ever dares to show his face around here.� This would be two messages for Voldemort in one night. Harry guessed it would be better, if he kept exercising Occlumency, at least for the coming night.

One last sneer, a ‘pop’ and Lucius Malfoy was gone, leaving a furious Draco in his wake. “What the hell were you thinking, Potter? I told you to stay out of it!�

“You were going to duel with Lucius Malfoy!� Harry yelled back and then hissed, “With your father!�

“Harry is right,� Hermione said, more calmly. “If you really killed him, you would have changed the whole future. Dumbledore still doesn’t know, if our appearance in this time does have any effect on ours, so killing someone, who’s still alive in our time, is simply too risky.�

“Whatever,� Draco grumbled and stuck his wand back into his boot. “But trust Saint Potter to play the hero. Death threats to Lucius and the Dark Lord? Honestly. So much for changing history.�

Waving him off, Harry began to look around the destructed street. “Where’s Ron?�

“We were putting out the fires, when I saw the spell flying at you, so he must still be somewhere there. Maybe helping with the injured. They shall all be brought to Hogwarts,� Hermione informed him, before she suddenly again looked at him, concerned. “Harry, what was going on with you? You didn’t seem to be yourself, while you were fighting.�

“I don’t know,� Harry lied smoothly, running a hand through his hair. His eyes wandered over his wand and he wondered, what the others would say, if they performed Prior Incantato on his wand. An image of Bellatrix Lestrange writhing on the ground shot through his head, so Harry quickly cleared his mind. This had been the first time that he had cast this Unforgivable and that it had worked. It made him sick, knowing all too well, what the victim had to go through. “I guess I was just out of it, after the attack on the Great Hall.�

“There was an attack on the Great Hall?� Draco asked surprised. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?�

“We didn’t have time,� Hermione said curtly. “There was a huge snake. We thought at first that it was a Basilisk, but then…� she trailed off, glancing at Harry.

“Oh Potter, tell me you didn’t… This is just fan-bloody-tastic!� Draco exclaimed, when Harry lowered his gaze. “Why don’t you just announce to the whole world that you’re a bloody Parselmouth? I mean, it isn’t as if we don’t already have enough problems to be accepted here. Showing off your dark abilities might just help us!�

The whole time swearing under his breath, Draco stalked off towards where the others were standing, rounding up the injured, leaving a slightly ashamed Harry and a still concerned Hermione behind. “I-I should…“ she began, motioning with her hands to follow Draco to help the others.

“It’s alright. Go,� he said, wondering if he should help as well. His questions was answered, when Dumbledore came up to him. “Headmaster,� he greeted him grimly, feeling as if he had lost the privilege of calling him by his first name with the stunts that he had pulled in the Great Hall. First talking to the snake and then showing disrespect to the most respected Headmaster Hogwarts had ever had.

“Harry,� Dumbledore said, somewhat kinder than before, but still without the twinkle in his eyes. “I believe we need to talk.�

Confused, Harry asked, “Here? Now? Shouldn’t we help?�

“There’s enough help around here. Everything is taken care of. Now shall we?� Dumbledore handed him the broken sign of the Three Broomsticks and immediately he felt the tug behind his navel.

They appeared in Dumbledore’s office, lit in the soft glow of candles with an elderly Fawkes standing on his perch. The phoenix glanced at Harry with his large beady eyes, trilling a soft tune. Harry couldn’t help but smile slightly at the beautiful red bird despite the obvious tension in the room, while Dumbledore walked around his desk and sat down in his chair.

“Please, sit down Harry,� Dumbledore said.

Not meeting the Headmaster’s gaze, Harry sat down on one the chair in front of the desk. He could feel the older wizard’s scrutinizing eyes on him and shifted nervously on the chair. Harry suddenly felt again like a student after having broken one or several school rules. “I’m sorry,� he mumbled, “about how I acted towards you earlier. I was… I have no excuse for this…�

Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement. “Apology accepted. But this isn’t what concerns me. I’m not going to beat around the bush. You’re a Parselmouth, Harry. I believe you know what this means?�

Sighing, Harry answered, “People will be scared of me.�

“That they will… That they will. Revealing this… unusual ability might make your life in this time more difficult.�

“I know,� Harry admitted, finally looking up, noticing that Dumbledore didn’t seem to be angry with him – more concerned, actually. His spirits rose a bit and with a small chuckle he said, “I’ve already gone through this in my time.�

“May I ask, what you told the snake?� Part of the spark in Dumbledore’s eyes had returned and the tension in the room lessened considerably.

A wry grin appeared on Harry’s face. When he had first talked to a snake at Hogwarts, his fellow students hadn’t asked this. They had just jumped to conclusions, believing him to be Slytherin’s heir, siccing the snake on the Muggleborn Hufflepuff Justin Finch-Fletchley. In reality, he had called the attacking snake off, but no one except for Ron and Hermione and a handful of other students like Fred and George, who had used Harry’s new won status to make even more jokes (“Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through…�), believed him. “I told it to leave and to tell Voldemort that I wouldn’t let him hurt the students.�

Dumbledore gazed at him, his eyes slightly widened in shock. “You do realize that this will alert Voldemort of the existence of another Parselmouth.�

Harry only shrugged, somewhat indifferently, but still with a slight smirk on his face. “He doesn’t know, why I do have this ability, does he? He doesn’t know that I have to thank him for this,� he said, pointing at the scar behind his bangs. “For all I know, he might think that I’m some long lost relative.�

Much to his surprise, Dumbledore suddenly barked out a hearty laugh, as if he found the situation of the long lost relative incredibly amusing. Harry noted happily that the twinkle had by now returned completely. “I believe it might annoy him greatly to believe that a Potter could be related to him.�

“Well, why should he think that he’s the only Heir of Slytherin?� Harry said grinning, but immediately turned serious. “I’m sorry, Albus. I didn’t mean to reveal this ability. It just slipped out. I had to stop the snake and your spells barely worked. I blame my save-people-thing as Hermione usually puts it, but it can’t be undone. We’ve got to live with this, somehow.�

“You’re completely right, Harry. You’ve got to live with this. I believe it also wouldn’t hurt to tell your father about how you came to this ability. He was in great shock about this sudden revelation,� Dumbledore advised him.

Running yet again with his hand through his hair, Harry sighed. “It’s complicated. You said they shouldn’t know yet about the Prophecy and my ability does have almost everything to do with it. Voldemort transferred this ability to me the night he attacked and gave me the scar.�

“I already guessed as much. But maybe you don’t need to tell him the true circumstances of this—“

“You expect me to lie to my father?� Harry exclaimed angrily.

“No, I merely expect you to tell him not everything.� Dumbledore gazed at him over his half-moon spectacles. “I promise, Harry. When the time is right, I’m going to tell them about the Prophecy.�

“Alright,� Harry replied, suddenly feeling drained. This night had been rather… eventful to say the least and he began to long for his bed. “I’ll to think about it.�

“You should head to your rooms now, Harry. Everything’s been taken care of. I’m sure you’re going to meet your friends there.�

“Future’s past,� Harry mumbled tiredly and the portrait swung open. Stepping inside from the dimly lit corridor, Harry blinked a few times to get used to the light in their common room.

He hadn’t met anyone on his way from the Headmaster’s office to their rooms, even after having taken a small detour past the Hospital Wing. It had been completely dark and he couldn’t hear anything through the doors, so he just assumed that Dumbledore had been right. Everything had been taken care of and most had gone to bed.

As soon as the portrait had swung shut behind him, Harry found that he couldn’t breathe under the load of long brown hair that had suddenly assaulted him. “Oh Harry, we’ve been so worried!�

“Don’t worry,� Harry croaked, slowly peeling Hermione off him. He saw that she had tears in her eyes and that Ron, who was standing a few feet behind her, was incredibly pale. “Dumbledore whisked me away from the battlefield. He wanted to talk to me.� At the somewhat confused looks on his friends’ faces, he elaborated, “About the attack of the snake and… what I did.�

Looks of understanding passed their faces and they relaxed visible. Harry noticed that they hadn’t changed out of their battle worn clothes yet and that both appeared to be nearly asleep on their feet. It had truly been a hard night.

“Where’s Draco?� Harry asked, first now noticing the absence of the fourth time traveller.

Hermione chuckled slightly, before she explained, “When Madame Pomfrey had seen that he was with us and that he had been in Hogsmeade, she had immediately sent him back to bed. I believe he has actually done what she had told him, as he hadn’t been here, when we arrived.�

Harry noticed slightly bemused that Hermione didn’t appear as worried about Draco’s health as just a couple of hours ago, especially after the battle, but he didn’t think much of it. He was too tired to deal with this right now. His bed was calling to him and there was still some other important stuff that he needed to ask. “Speaking of Madame Pomfrey. Where are all the injured that were brought to Hogwarts. The Hospital Wing is completely quiet.�

Hermione and Ron exchanged a quick glance, before the redhead said, “Most of them had been transferred to St. Mungo’s. Only those with light injuries stayed here over night and will be released tomorrow. The other teachers also agreed to help tomorrow, to, you know, clear up.�

Nodding, Harry unclasped his ruined dress robes and threw the black cloak over his arm. “Well, I guess we have a busy weekend ahead of us. I’m gonna head to bed. Wake me, if I sleep in.� With only a quick wave and a reassuring smile at his friends, Harry went into his room, where he only barely managed to strip down to his shorts before he slumped on his bed, already half asleep. It was only in his subconscious mind that he heard the House Elf picking up the lazily scattered clothes from the floor. First after it had disappeared with a quiet ‘pop’, Harry gave in to the darkness.

The following morning, when Harry and his friends, sans Draco, as he still wasn’t allowed to leave his bed on orders from Madame Pomfrey, came into the Great Hall for breakfast, every single student fell silent. Harry felt their eyes boring into his back, when he passed them and was aware of the quiet whispers that the students exchanged.

Great, Harry thought, his inner voice dripping with sarcasm, this is just second year all over again.

Dumbledore smiled at them friendly, if also a bit subdued, while other teachers eyed them, and especially Harry, suspiciously, before they returned to their breakfast. When Harry glanced over the four house tables, he also noticed that several other people, bitter and defeated looking wizards and witches from Hogsmeade, were present. With a pang at his heart, Harry realized that those people must have lost a lot in the previous night.

As soon as all plates were cleared, Dumbledore rose from his chair with a sombre look on his face. “Dear students, dear guests,� he began and once again no sound was to be heard from the students, as he had their rapt attention. “As you’ve probably all heard by now, there has been a Death Eater attack on Hogsmeade last night, with grievous consequences. A large part of the village was destroyed and the attack has cost many lives. Hogwarts is now host for witches and wizards, who have lost their homes. I ask all of you to help them adjust as well as possible.� Murmurs of understanding went through the students, but Dumbledore raised his hands, silencing them once again. “There’s, however, another thing I want to ask the students that are already of age: To rebuild the village, we need as much help as we can get. Your help would be very much appreciated. Thank you.�

Several of the older students, who were already of age, meaning seventeen or older, began to whisper to each other, or simply nodded their approval. As it was a weekend, Harry heard that most of them wanted to use to it clear up or repair as much as possible. He was impressed by their dedication to do good things.

Just as the students wanted to rise from their tables, a huge flock of owls suddenly swarmed the Great Hall. The mail is late today, Harry only thought, as the Daily Prophet was dropped on Hermione’s plate. Harry barely noticed this, as he was looking for the familiar grey owl of his parents, somehow hoping that they would write to him after the previous night, but in vain. Sighing, he turned to Hermione, only to see her ashen face, her lips pressed to a thin line, as she was staring at the front page.

“Something about the attack?� he asked curiously, now also gaining Ron’s attention.

Hermione shook her head hesitantly and reluctantly showed Harry the front page. A deep scowl appeared on his face, when he read the headline.

Harry groaned, as he had finished the article and put the newspaper aside, burying his face in his hands. “Fan-bloody-tastic,� he only mumbled, using Draco’s words from the previous night to sum the whole situation up.

A/N: I know, I know, it took me incredibly long to get this chapter out, but so much has happened in the last month that I barely had time to write. I moved into my very first flat and I started at university and the beginning had been rather hectic. I can only hope that it gets better and that my stories won’t have to suffer (much).

Now, to answer your questions, I have no idea, how long this story will be, but there will still be plenty of chapters, I suppose. I’ve still got a lot planned for this story! And yes, you will find out soon, who Hermione’s secret admirer is.

But now, have fun with this chapter!

Chapter 20: Damage Control

Harry Potter wasn’t known to complain about hard physical labour, especially in his line of work, but when he got back to the castle on Sunday night, just in time for dinner, he wished that he could just skip the meal and head back to his room to get some well needed rest.

The previous two days had been extremely strenuous – both physically and emotionally. Hogsmeade was almost completely ravaged and even with magic it would take a long time to rebuild this village. The death toll was high, higher than he had imagined and somehow Harry couldn’t help but think that this was partly his fault.

He hadn’t known of an attack on Hogsmeade, so what if their appearance in this time had provoked Voldemort to order this? This was the only reasonable answer he had been able to come up with, while he had been rummaging through the ruins, hoping to find any undetected survivors and helping clearing up the mess. Someone in his time surely would have told him, if Hogsmeade had been attacked during Voldemort’s first reign of terror, but they hadn’t, ergo the village hadn’t been attacked before. By going back in time, he and the others had unwillingly changed something and this change had had drastic and dramatic consequences.

After having come to this realization, Harry could only hope that Dumbledore was right with his theory about the different timelines. Otherwise he didn’t even want to know, what this attack might have caused to change in his own future.

The stares he had felt in his back the whole time hadn’t helped to relieve the growing guilt at all. As a matter of fact, they had only helped to intensify this feeling at least tenfold. Already the wildest rumours were being spread, ranging from Harry being a simple Death Eater to being Voldemort’s right hand man and heir. Who else would know Parseltongue than someone very close to You-Know-Who? Maybe they were even related? Brothers, he had heard at some point, as someone had brought up that young Tom Riddle and he looked somewhat alike.

Bloody marvellous mess you’ve got yourself into, Potter, Harry had berated himself repeatedly over the course of the weekend. To deal with this, Harry had done what he knew best – he had retreated into his shell and not talked to anyone, not even his friends. Until now, he had avoided them as much as possible by having gotten up in the morning before them, then during the day trying to work far away from them in Hogsmeade and at night returning to his room long after they had turned in. He knew that they were worried, but they couldn’t help him. He had done this all by himself, so he also had to find a way out without help.

He just had to find a way, Harry thought somewhat crestfallen, as he crossed the Entrance Hall and noticed how the students shunned him. He had been one of their favourite professors and now they were afraid of him. This just wasn’t right.

Harry just wanted to open the door to the Great Hall, already hearing the sounds of clattering dishes, as he suddenly heard someone clearing his throat behind him. Turning around startled, Harry found himself face to face with the Headmaster.

“Albus,� he mumbled in greeting. He hadn’t seen him at all during the weekend, not even during the meals, after his speech to the students on Saturday at breakfast. He hadn’t thought much of his absence, believing it to be due to important business dealing with the attack, but now he began to wonder slightly.

“Harry, I’m glad that I met you…� Professor Dumbledore said with a light smile, as he looked at the young man through his half-moon spectacles. Harry raised his eyebrow at this, already expecting that their meeting hadn’t been an accident. “Would you please accompany me to my office? It’s important.�

With a heavy sigh, but at the same time glad that he didn’t need to face the student body yet, Harry nodded and followed the Headmaster through the corridors to his office. The stone gargoyle sprang aside, after Dumbledore had said the password (Apple Pie) and together they walked up the spiral staircase. Dumbledore was chatting amiably about one thing or another, but Harry didn’t listen to him and stopped dead in his tracks, when the door opened and he saw his parents with their little son sitting in front of Dumbledore’s desk.

Harry froze, almost ready to take a step back, but swallowed hard, as Dumbledore stopped next to him and Lily and James Potter rose from their chairs, both with grim looks on their faces. He wasn’t ready for this! He hadn’t even thought about what he was going to tell them!

“Harry,� James only said, while Lily tried to offer him a small ensuring smile, when Dumbledore gave Harry a small push towards his parents. Somehow, it seemed, as if the rift that had been between Harry and his father at the beginning had returned, as if he had lost all of his father’s trust.

It hurt.

The three months old baby in Lily’s arms squealed, but otherwise a heavy silence was weighing upon them. Eventually, Dumbledore walked around them to his desk and sat down in his chair, while the three Potters were still simply staring at each other, not knowing what to say.

“Why don’t we sit down for this?� the Headmaster offered kindly and Harry finally managed to avert his father’s accusing and his mother’s confused eyes. Turning his head away, he sat down in one of the offered chairs, now staring at the ground. He heard how his parents also sat down and waited for Dumbledore to continue. It was an agonizing long wait and Harry could practically feel his parents’ gazes upon him.

What the bloody hell was he going to do now? What should he tell them? Dumbledore had advised him to tell his parents partly the truth. He needed to keep essential information out of it, like the Prophecy, or the exact time of the attack, or the fact that it had been the Killing Curse that had given him the scar and therewith transferred some of Voldemort’s abilities to him.

It would be extremely difficult. Somehow he doubted that his father, or his mother for that matter, would be satisfied with what would be left of this story.

“I believe you all know, why we’re here now,� Dumbledore suddenly said again, startling Harry out of his musings. “It’s about the happenings two nights ago, when the snake attacked and something was revealed that rather should have been kept a secret—“

“A secret!� James almost yelled, outraged, effectively cutting off the older wizard. “You said that it should be kept a secret that my son, if this man even is my son, has the ability of a dark wizard?�

Dumbledore sighed and Harry could almost believe he heard the weariness in his voice. He was right. His father didn’t trust him anymore. “I’m your son,� he mumbled, not giving Dumbledore the chance to answer. “Everything I told you about me is true. There are only some things that I didn’t tell you. And you knew this.� Harry hoped that this would appease his father a bit. Hadn’t James, not so long ago, told Harry that he didn’t need to worry about keeping things from them as long as they didn’t know what effect this information might have on this time?

It seemed as if James was about to explode again, hadn’t his wife put a calming hand on his forearm and shot him a warning glare with her blazing emerald eyes. “He’s right,� she simply said. “James, you told me yourself that there are some things that Harry didn’t tell us. You accepted this. I’m sure he has his reasons for not telling us about this.�

“And I hope he has damn good reasons… And that there is a damn good explanation for the reason why my son is a Parselmouth! There’s never before been a Potter, who was able to talk to snakes,� James growled, but apparently he wasn’t going to yell again, something Harry was rather grateful for.

He gave his mother a quick thankful smile, before he briefly locked eyes with the headmaster, as if asking if he should really do this, if he should really tell them. After Dumbledore nodded his head once at him, Harry took a deep breath. This certainly wasn’t going to be easy.

“You’re right,� Harry said to his father, hoping that this might somewhat soften the blow. “There has never been a Potter, who has been born with the ability to talk to snakes. I can thank dear old Voldemort for being able to do this.�

“Why?� Lily asked, looking slightly worried.

Reaching up, Harry parted the bangs on his forehead to reveal his famous lightning bolt shaped scar. “This is a curse scar,� he explained. “It’s actually quite simple. Voldemort attacked me and gave me this scar. However, by doing this, he also transferred some of his abilities to me, like Parseltongue.�

Harry watched a bit guiltily, how Lily’s hand flew to her mouth, when he had mentioned Voldemort’s attack, and the widening of James’ eyes at the same moment. He knew, he had really only given them the short version of this, but he wasn’t sure, if he could tell them more. He only hoped that they wouldn’t ask further questions. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on his side, when James uttered only one word. “When?�

Shaking his head, Harry replied, “I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.�

“Why not?� his father prodded, sounding somewhat desperate. Harry could only understand him too well. If it had been him, who had gotten this news, he probably would have reacted the same way. “Is it going to happen soon? What curse did he use? How did you escape?�

“I can’t answer those questions,� he mumbled, avoiding their worried gazes. “Maybe someday, when we are sure what effects our appearance in this time has, if it somehow affects my time as well, I can tell you. But not now and not here. I just want you to know that I’m no dark wizard and certainly no Death Eater. I discovered that I’m a Parselmouth by accident and it already caused me a lot of problems in my time.�

“Does Voldemort know about this?� Lily wanted to know, unconsciously clutching her baby a bit tighter and holding the boy closer to her body, as if she feared that Voldemort might attack at any moment.

Harry saw the fierce protectiveness of a mother in her eyes and he was glad that his mother was so passionate about this and really loved him enough to defend him with her own life – otherwise he wouldn’t be sitting here.

In less than one year…

Blinking a couple of times to get rid of this thought, Harry finally replied, “The Voldemort in my time knows that I’m a Parselmouth and also that he’s responsible for this. As of now, the Voldemort in this time only knows that I’m a Parselmouth, courtesy of a message I asked the snake to deliver. He doesn’t know yet that he will attack your son someday and transfer some of his powers to him. All I know, it couldn’t happen at all in this time. It depends on how much we’ve changed already.�

Silence fell over them after this and Harry noticed that James appeared to be contemplating something. His father’s eyes were resting on him, making him slightly uncomfortable, but he didn’t show it. If he showed any weaknesses now, it might harm his credibility. He believed that at least his mother trusted him again, but he wasn’t so sure about his father. He was probably more inclined to listen to Sirius, who, Harry was completely sure about this, mistrusted him now more than ever.

“May I ask another question?� James finally spoke up, breaking the heavy silence upon them. At Harry’s nod, he continued, “You talked about abilityes, meaning you’ve got more than one from Voldemort. What are the others?�

Harry grinned slightly, as he waved his hand and the bowl with Sherbet Lemons on Dumbledore’s desk began to float. “I’ve got a knack for wandless magic, though it’s a bit draining, if I perform difficult or long lasting spells.� Without saying anything, the bowl softly dropped back to the desk and Harry began to think. “Also, some people say that my magic in general is more powerful than the magic of an average wizard, though I still doubt this somehow. Oh, and before I forget…� He willed his wand into his hand and held it up, so that all of them could see it. “The core of this wand is a phoenix feather and Ollivander told me that the phoenix gave just one more feather for a wand and guess whose wand it is.�

Both James and Lily gasped in surprise, while Dumbledore was only gazing at the tiny wrinkled newborn bird beneath the phoenix’s perch behind them. “I see…� the headmaster mumbled with a slight smile and Harry noticed that, while Frank Longbottom had told Dumbledore that the core of Harry’s wand was a phoenix feather, he hadn’t had the chance to tell him which phoenix had given this feather. Only too late did Harry realize that telling them the part about his wand had been the most obvious way to deduce that Harry had been attacked as a child.

“B-but…� Lily stuttered. “Voldemort attacked you before you went to Hogwarts? How did you survive?�

“I—“ Harry was at a loss of words. He looked to the headmaster, but he was offering no help. He was now completely alone. Should he tell them or not? “It was l-luck,� he said eventually. “I’ve been lucky and was able to escape and I had loads of help.� At least this wasn’t a complete lie. Harry had usually been lucky, when he had faced Voldemort, and without Ron and Hermione he wouldn’t have come far during their adventures at Hogwarts. His luck and his friends had helped him to survive so often by now that he didn’t want to miss them anymore, no matter how much he wanted to protect them. They had once only told him all too bluntly that they would be there for him and fight at his side until the end.

“I see,� James mumbled, although Harry thought that his father didn’t look convinced. However, as long as he didn’t ask any further questions and understood that there were things that Harry didn’t want to and couldn’t talk about yet, it didn’t matter if James bought his story or not.

Suddenly, Dumbledore clapped his hands once and got up from his chair with a bright smile on his face. “Well then, I believe that now, after this rather enlightening talk, I shouldn’t keep you any longer. This previous weekend had been rather stressful and classes start again tomorrow. If you’re quick, you might still get some dinner, Harry, otherwise I believe James could show you to the kitchens, if you don’t know already, where they are.�

Harry flashed him a grateful smile, glad that this conversation seemed to be over now. He rose from his chair, at the same time as his parents and together they left the office, with a mumbled goodnight to the headmaster, but otherwise in complete silence.

Their footsteps echoed through the deserted stone hallways of Hogwarts. Harry was walking slightly ahead of his parents, with his hands pushed into his pockets. He felt somewhat relieved, but still, it was kind of awkward to be alone with his parents now. There were still so many things that they didn’t know, so many things that he wanted to tell them but couldn’t.

Bloody prophecy!

Once they reached the Entrance Hall, Harry turned around with a silent sigh, as he was pretty sure that his parents wanted to leave now. “So, I’ll see you around, I guess…� he mumbled, not really eager to meet their gazes.

“Actually…� Harry looked up and saw that Lily was smiling at him warmly. “I believe James told you about the invitation to dinner. Well, you and your friends, you’re still welcome to come by.�

Offering her a small smile, he replied, “Thank you… I’ll get back to you.� And then, after having taking a look around to make sure that they were completely alone, he added, “Mom, Dad, I’m sorry you had to find out this way. If I could tell you more, I promise, I would do it. But circumstances—“

“Don’t allow it,� James agreed thoughtfully. “We know and I’m sorry that I didn’t have more trust in you.� Suddenly, a slight grin spread over his face, as he said, in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Well then, Harry, you should go and get some dinner. I don’t want my son to starve to death. Or do you want me to show you to the kitchens?�

There was a mischievous glint in James’ hazel eyes and Harry couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “No, thanks, but I believe this won’t be necessary. You seem to forget that I’m the son of a Marauder. I know my way around Hogwarts.�

Harry could swear that he heard his mother mumble something like ‘Honestly’ under her breath and his face broke into a grin. It truly was no wonder that she and Hermione hit it off immediately. They were just so much alike, though, as far as he had noticed until now, his mother’s temper was worse than Hermione’s and if he looked closely, he also saw some mischievousness in her eyes, reminding him very much of another redhead.

“James, I think we should go now. It’s getting late and little Harry still needs to eat before he has to go to bed,� Lily said.

“You’re right, honey,� James agreed, smiling lovingly down at the boy in her arms, who just opened his mouth for a large yawn.

Harry watched this fondly, though he also felt some jealousy welling up. He knew it wasn’t fair to envy this baby, especially since it was his other self. This boy should have his parents and enjoy his time with them as long as possible, because one year from now, he would suffer the same fate as his older counterpart.

“Remember the invitation,� Lily reminded him with a wink.

“Don’t worry,� Harry replied with a smile. “I’ll talk to my friends and then I’ll owl you.�

After a quick goodbye, Harry watched them leave the castle, before he also turned to go to his quarters. He wasn’t hungry anymore and just wanted to go to bed. Tomorrow was a new day and he had to brave the fear and anger of his students. But now, he thought, after the talk with his parents, he hoped that it would be easier to face them and he wouldn’t forget his father’s parting words.

Keep your pecker up!

~*~

When Harry strode through the Great Hall the next morning, he did this with his head held high and a confidence in his steps that hadn’t been there the days before. He wouldn’t let this situation get him down. He was here at Hogwarts to teach and he knew that he was good at it. As long as he taught this students something and helped them to prepare for the war outside the secure walls of Hogwarts it didn’t matter, if they liked him or not.

But still, he wouldn’t give his students up without a fight!

He stopped in front of Dumbledore and conversed with him quietly for a few moments, before the headmaster nodded and got up from his chair. Dumbledore clapped and immediately got the attention of everyone in the Great Hall. “Professor Potter would like to say something,� he only said, before he sat down again and motioned for Harry to start.

After having quietly cleared his throat once, Harry said loudly, “I believe you all know what I want to talk about, seeing as you’ve either been present at the attack on the Great Hall or read it in the Prophet. To answer some of your questions, yes, I’m a Parselmouth, meaning I can talk to snakes, but no, I’m neither a supporter of Voldemort nor a dark wizard. While it is true that there have been some dark wizards and witches who knew Parseltongue, it isn’t true that all Parselmouths are essentially evil. Just like not all Slytherins are evil and all Gryffindors are good. Just like not all pureblood wizards are exceptionally good and muggle-borns are bad at magic. I know exceptions to all of those prejudices. Just believe me that I’m an exception to the Parselmouth prejudice. Believe me that I would never, never, support Voldemort. He and his followers killed people that I cared about, so don’t believe for a second that would want to kiss the hem of his robes. Quite the contrary, actually. If I ever get the chance, I’m going to make that bastard pay for everything he has done!�

Harry noticed that he had gotten slightly out of breath, as his speech had gotten more and more passionate towards the end, but he didn’t care. He only hoped that he had been successful with his message.

“Thank you,� he just mumbled, before walking around the staff table to his seat.

Harry knew that Ron and Hermione were staring at him in awe, but none of them said anything. Neither did anyone else in the Great Hall for several seconds, until he suddenly heard someone clapping. He looked up and around and his gaze landed on the Ravenclaw table, on Benjamin Linford from fourth year to be precise. The mousy boy was the only one standing and clapping so loud that it echoed in the whole class. Then another joined him and Harry was glad to see that it was Bill Weasley, closely followed by his brother Charlie. Slowly, one by one, students got up from the benches and started to applaud.

In the end, it was about half of the student body, that was showing him their support, even some from Slytherin House, and Harry almost fell from his chair, when he felt a hearty clap on his back. “Well done, mate,� Ron said grinning.

Hermione hugged him tightly, also grinning brightly and even Draco, who, Harry noticed relieved, was finally allowed to show himself in public and work again after having cured his flu with a lot of rest, said, “Nice speech, Potter. I hope this got at least some of them off our backs.�

It took some minutes and some warning words from Dumbledore until the students calmed down again and turned their attention back to breakfast, though the headmaster had winked at him, while his friends had been congratulating him. Harry gave him a grateful smile, because, even though he was glad that so many students were still or again trusting him, all the attention had been slightly embarrassing.

Fortunately the owls began to sweep down through the windows at the same moment as the students started to calm down, so most of their attention was now drawn to their letters and packages. Harry started, when once again one of the owls landed directly in front of Hermione with a small package and a note. Harry looked over to her, as she unfolded it and read,

I believe you lost this.

It was the handwriting of her secret admirer.

Immediately, she put the note aside and a huge smile spread over her face, as she unwrapped the package and saw the golden necklace from her secret admirer. Though also being slightly suspicious, Harry was happy to see her smile like this. But now that he saw the necklace, he remembered that Hermione hadn’t told them who her secret admirer was. He just wanted to ask that question, but Ron beat him to it, before he could even open his mouth.

“I-I can’t say…� Hermione said, lowering her head slightly, but Harry could still see there was still a smile and also a reddish tint on her cheeks. “He-he asked me not to tell anyone, yet.�

“But you know who it is?� Harry wanted to know. He would be worried for Hermione, if she still didn’t know his identity. After all, if he believed Ron, they had kissed.

Still smiling and fondly running her fingers over the ruby in the necklace, Hermione simply replied, “I know.�

Harry was somewhat relieved, but still one thing irked him.

Who the bloody hell was it?