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.