Ok everyone, this is Vamp.Delight speaking. This Story, up until chapter 12, belongs to the author Samy K. He/She (sorry, bi-name) should be given credit until said chappy. Samy lost the story when deleted it, and I am sorry that this happened, but I will resurrect this story in her/his honor. Thank you.
p.s. this is my first fic, continuing from ch. 12, and please go easy.
p.p.s. I have made a few "editorial upgrades" so it is not an exact quote of the story.
Disclaimer: YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS ONE BY NOW!!!!!!!!
Chapter One
Deflating The Big Headed Potter
Grimacing, it took all of Harry's willpower to not simply glower as Snape strolled briskly toward him, ready for his usual sly remarks and endless criticism toward his steaming cauldron once he had finished adding the last few ingredients.
"Well, well," said Snape in a particularly audible voice for others to hear as he peered down at Harry's cauldron with his obnoxiously overly large nose. "And what, Mr. Potter, do we have here?"
The Slytherins all glanced up swiftly from their own cauldrons, turning their heads to stare eagerly at them from across the room. They found it as entertainment whenever Snape was torturing Harry with insults, rude comments, alongside the taking of points.
Ron and Hermione, who were both standing by their own cauldrons several inches away, surveyed Harry uneasily. They were all now in their seventh and final year at Hogwarts and the threat of Voldemort grew more and more fearful by the last three years.
Only a year ago, Harry had finally revealed the truth about the prophecy to both of them, but first confining in Ginny, who was now surprisingly, well, his girlfriend. Many heavy losses and burdens had shaken Harry so hard in the years. Both Ron and Hermione knew that Harry still blamed himself for Cedric's and Sirius's death.
And with the thought of Voldemort getting more public and the constant news of more mysterious deaths that had occurred in the past several months, it was clearly not getting any easier for him.
Harry still had a short fuse and if messed with, would be sure to start shouting at the top of his lungs. The only one who had the courage to shout back was Ginny, and she was the only one that gave him the sense to shut up and feel ashamed of himself whenever he started.
And this would probably be one of those times for Harry to start releasing his wrath, because Ron and Hermione now knew that he would not take being provoked and tormented by the greasy haired Professor any longer.
"So Potter," sneered Snape. "I asked you what it was that you mixed into your cauldron. Don't tell me you are afraid to answer."
The Slytherins began to laugh, Malfoy being the loudest. Meanwhile, however, the Gryffindors joined in with Ron and Hermione, all of whom were surveying Harry uneasily. They had heard and seen Harry lose his temper before, and they knew it was not something to look forward to.
"The Sleeping Draught," said Harry, through slightly clenched teeth. "I've made the Sleeping Draught, sir."
"Oh really," said Snape dryly. His lips began to curl into a revolting look of enjoyment. "The Sleeping Draught, Potter? I don't seem to recall it being a rather delicate of purple."
"Its close enough," said Harry in a louder tone.
The Gryffindors cringed while the Slytherins began to howl with even more laughter.
"I don't think so Potter," said Snape in an annoyingly gleeful tone. "Another zero for today. This potion is completely useless. Evanesco."
The contents inside Harry's cauldron vanished and Snape stalked off, a look of smug satisfaction on his face.
"SNIVELLUS!"
The Slytherins who had not expected it, jumped in shock and some—including, Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy—had knocked over their cauldrons, spilling the mixed content inside, yet it went unnoticed since their eyes were instead focused on Harry who was shouting at a stony-faced petrified Snape.
The Gryffindors backed away slightly in fright and alarm, but Ron and Hermione stared at Snape and Harry in confusion. Snivellus? Where had they heard that before?
Harry however, stared at Snape with a look of concentrated fury. His fists were clenched to his side, and he seemed to struggle with himself. There was a moment of cold silence between the two, then—
"Dad had a good time, didn't he?" said Harry softly, his eyes hard. "Get over a grudge, why don't you?"
They all watched with bated breath as Snape's stony expression turned from quiet shock into a demented look of fury. Seeming to have cast a shadow around him, Snape stood taller. "Potter," he growled and began to make his way toward Harry, his wand suddenly having been raised high in the air.
But before Snape could get any closer however, the spilled potions that had been left unnoticed by the Slytherins had begun to drift its way toward Harry.
Hermione was the first to notice the spilling content.
"HARRY!" she screamed. "LOOK OUT!"
But it was too late.
By the time Harry had spun around and had seen the hot slippery liquid flowing his way, it had already touched the bottom of his soles. He had meant to get away from that moment on, but the potion seemed to have frozen him in place, causing him to stiffen and lose balance. Harry screamed as he realized he was being succumbed to hot burning liquid that was rapidly consuming his flesh in a matter of seconds.
"HARRY!" yelled Ron and all of the Gryffindors scrambled over hurriedly to help.
Suddenly a weird sensation began to wash over the room, stopping them dead in their tracks.
"What the bloody hell?" whispered Ron, now completely oblivious to Harry's screams of agonizing pain.
Slowly, Snape, the Gryffindors, and all of the Slytherins raised their disbelieving eyes to look at one another. The shapes of their bodies had suddenly become very blurred and unrecognized. Ron began to lift a hand to feel himself, but—
"We've frozen!" screamed Hermione.
There was an outburst of fearful muttering at this; some even began to cry out loudly.
The voices were abruptly stopped however. All of them tried to work their mouths frantically for help, but no sound came out and the only noise residing around them was the continuing endless screams of Harry.
Then blackness began to fill the dungeon room. And both the Slytherins and Gryffindors were clearly panicking, yet they could neither move nor speak. And then suddenly and unexpectedly as if a light had gone out, they knew no more.
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Harry felt as if he was being brutally thrown against the wind as he fell. He tried to grab on to something, but caught nothing but air. He tried to scream but manage no sound.
Suddenly, his nostrils were filled with the strong smell of familiar grass…
"James!"
Harry's eyes snapped open and he saw three boys bending over him, all looking equally concerned.
"I'm not James," said Harry wearily as he was about to doze off again. "I'm Harry…"
His eyes were closing once more, but then a dark haired youth grabbed him by the shoulders and began to shake him.
"Huh? What?" snapped Harry abruptly, sitting bolt upright. He then looked around him and saw that he was in an unfamiliar dorm, with clothes, objects, and possessions having been thrown everywhere, and with three unfamiliar teen boys staring directly at him in full genuine concern.
One of them, the young man that had shaken Harry was staring at him with extreme agitation and worry, though there was a rather wry and fiendish grin to his mouth. His hair was a dark sleek black and hung over his piercing brown eyes. A look of outspoken mischief seemed to dancing from within them.
The other, who was a little shorter and not quite as handsome, though not all that bad looking as well, appeared to be more on edge than the rest of them. He was the closest to Harry, and his hair was neatly cropped and combed. His chin was slightly lantern liked, and his eyes were a pale blue. However, shadows hung well and dark under them.
And then the last of them was a small mousy haired boy with a very thin face, and a highly pointed nose that reminded Harry remarkably like a rat. He was quite plump, though not overly gigantic, and he stared at Harry with watery beady eyes that seemed to squint in curiosity, yet withheld uncertainty in them.
"Where am I?" said Harry stupidly, looking around in bewilderment. "And who the bloody hell are you guys?"
"James, are you feeling okay?" asked the dark-haired young man again. "Your really freaking us out here, mate. It's not like you to play it out this long."
"I'm not—" But Harry's eyes began to widen and he remember the mixture of multicolored spilled potions. "Oh no," whispered Harry in a hollow tone and he then stared at the three boys.
"It couldn't be…"
"What's wrong James?" squeaked the small mousy haired teen.
"Um, what year is it?" asked Harry uncertainly.
The three teenagers looked at him as if he were mad and the dark haired boy said very slowly, "It's 1978 James…"
That was all the confirmation that Harry needed. He leaped from the bed, and bolted from the dormitory, hearing the boys shout after him.
"James! James!"
Harry then tore down the common room and saw many unfamiliar faces looking at him and yelling, "Hey Potter!" or "Come hang out with us Potter!"
But Harry ignored them and dashed away out the portrait hole.
'I've got to find Dumbledore,' thought Harry, as he ran down the corridors that led to the Headmaster's office and spotted the two statues concealing it as usual.
But rather surprisingly and unexpectedly, the two statues moved apart and out came the Headmaster himself, dressed in fine midnight blue robes, looking almost just the same as he did back in Harry's time.
Relieved, he called out Dumbledore's name. "Professor!"
"Why James," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "What brings you here—"
"Sir, I--!" Harry gasped and clutched at his side.
"James, are you alright?" asked Professor Dumbledore, appearing concerned.
"I'm not James, I'm Harry Potter, his son from the future. I must have traveled to the past by mistake."
Dumbledore looked down at Harry with his crooked nose, surveying him through the frames of his half-moon spectacles.
"Are you able to prove that to me?" asked Dumbledore quietly.
Harry pushed back his hair quickly to reveal his scar. He knew it would be the best evidence he could show at such a time like this.
"See Professor, I have a scar on my forehead," said Harry at once, planting a finger on where he thought it was, yet only to find that his forehead felt perfectly smooth. "What the—what happen to my scar?"
Dumbledore continued to survey Harry rather inquisitively. Silently however, he then took out a small pocket mirror from underneath the garments of his midnight blue robes. He handed it to Harry and said calmly, "Here you are, glance at your reflection. I'm sure that's enough to prove to us both that you are none other than James Potter."
Harry took the mirror and glanced down at himself, expecting to see bright green eyes and a scar, only both weren't there. Instead his eyes were a murky hazel, with the fact that there was no scar and his nose seemed to stretch out longer than his own usually did.
Harry nearly fainted.
"I'm James…"
"Why of course you are," said Dumbledore smiling serenely, taking back his mirror and pocketing it.
"No Professor," protested Harry at once. "You don't understand. You see, I was in potion's class and this accident occurred. I think I might have blown myself into the past by mistake and somehow I ended up as my father. You have to believe me Professor; I'm not really James. I'm his son, Harry Potter."
The old Headmaster peered into Harry's eyes as though scrutinizing him and a sudden connection between them was then felt. Harry knew that Professor Dumbledore was using Leglimens, and although he never liked the way it had an effect on him, he was quite desperate to be believed and understood.
The minutes ticked on the in the loudest silence ever as Harry waited for his fate.
At long last, Dumbledore spoke, "I believe you Harry."
"Thank you Professor," he breathed in relief. "But how do I get back to the future sir?"
Professor Dumbledore looked at him sadly. "I'm afraid, Harry that it may take the whole school year for you to return to your own time period. You see, we must find the right type of potion to bring you back. A Time-Turner won't do, because the Ministry will believe your story much too farfetched. Not only that but," Dumbledore paused slightly, as if choosing his next words carefully. "There has been certain danger, and if they do indeed realize you are from the future, they will hold you hostage and demand of what you know."
"But—!" Harry protested.
"But I will help you," said Dumbledore calmly. "You cannot afford to stay in the past. We cannot ruin what lies in store for us anymore than we can destroy ourselves."
Harry felt a sudden stir of hope residing in his chest. "Then you are going to help me, sir…." It wasn't a question, but a statement full of confidence. Dumbledore had always given him those unexplained feelings of immediate reliance and trust.
"Yes Harry, but it may take time, and I only ask of you to be patient. However, I believe you needn't worry about your present time; it would have frozen, so until you get back, it will remain that way. Yet I am hoping that you will try to impersonate your father the best you can."
"But sir," said Harry. "Where is my father? Since I'm in him, what's happened to the real him?"
"I wouldn't worry about it, Harry," said Dumbledore. "His soul is still in his body, intact, and whole, but you have shut it off with you becoming him."
"Oh," said Harry in a quiet voice. "But is he in his seventh year?"
"Yes Harry, he is."
There was a minute of silence and then at last, Harry stepped back.
"Thank you Professor," he said, relief and gratitude spoken in his every word. "I will do my best and I will try my hardest impersonate my father."
"Very well," said Dumbledore with a node of his head. "Off you trot then."
Harry turned and bolted back to the Gryffindor common room. He was now thinking of all he would soon have to face when returning to the seventh year dormitory, for he now knew who the three young men were.
If only I could strangle Wormtail, thought Harry fiercely.
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Lily Evans sat in the corner of the common room with her friends, studying with utmost reluctance for their physical Defense Against The Dark Arts test that would soon come tomorrow.
"Can you believe it?" muttered Alice Comber waving her wand, looking extremely irritated. "I tried to get this stupid Patronus Charm working for the last fifteenth time, yet I'm still not getting any shape!" Angrily, Alice grabbed her Defense Against The Foulest Creatures book by Milli Twinkletwine and flipped through the pages in a hasty rush, looking for the chapter regarding Patronuses. "Urg, bloody hell! What am I doing wrong?"
"Well I'm not getting anything either," said Lily in annoyance and with a frustrated sigh, she threw her wand on the floor in exasperation.
"Oh, c'mon girls," said Su Chang, a very pretty girl, who was leaning against the common room wall, obviously relaxed. "Forget about it, it's only a test. Besides, we'll have plenty of them to come in the future anyhow."
"Only a test!" exclaimed Linda Barmy, her bright blue eyes widening to the size of golf balls and her freckles seem to fidget in indignation. "It may be easy for you to say that Su, because all you can think about on a regular basis is snogging some other guy that appears out of nowhere!"
Su grinned playfully and let out a dreamy sigh.
"Boys…I can't resist them and they can't resist me…"
Lily rolled her eyes while the rest of them smirked knowingly at one another. If there was one thing that Su was best at getting, it was boys, and honestly, her day-to-day analysis on each guy she had dated was rather annoying now. However Linda suddenly stopped smirking abruptly as she turned toward the common room entrance. Grinning mischievously, she spun back around toward a particular red head's direction, "Speaking of boys, here comes your knight in shining armor Lily."
Four girls whirled around and saw James Potter squeeze himself through the portrait hole. Toppling out of it, he scrambled up the dormitory stairs in an unknown haste, oblivious to the cooing of girls and eager voices of boys.
"Oh, you mean the big-headed-prick," growled Lily, turning back around with an irritated look on her face. If there was one thing she hated more than Potter showing off, it was when people talked about him as if he were the king of the world. "I could care less about that idiot. But if you want me to repeat that for the millionth time already, Linda, I will. But yes, thanks for reminding me." Her voice trailed away in extreme sarcasm.
"Did you have to bring him up?" asked Alice exasperatedly to Linda as Lily began her I-Hate-Potter rants.
Linda grinned and simply replied, "Sorry Alice, couldn't resist. It's quite fun to get Lily all worked up. You know she has a very unique kind of temper."
"I think we all know that Linda," mumbled Su, rolling her eyes onto Lily who was still mumbling furiously and appeared to be at no point of stopping anytime soon.
"Just earlier today, that toerag asked me out again!" said Lily angrily, puffing her cheeks and causing them to grow a rather rosy glow from her anger. "When will that creep get a clue that he's a conceited fat-headed-pompous-arrogant—wait, arrogant and pompous mean the same thing—jerk whom I will never ever go out with!"
She finished by pounding her fist on the study table and sending her inkbottle flying. Oblivious to the fact that her best friends were watching her somewhat wearily; Lily picked up her inkbottle and continued her mutinous ranting, but in a low mumbling voice.
Alley, Su and Linda who were all use to this behavior, shook their heads and pursued a different topic about Lily's boyfriend so far, Amos Diggory, hoping to get her out of such Potter negativity.
"So what do you think of Amos, Lils?" asked Su, immediately changing the subject once she could get a word in edgewise
Lily's eyes seemed to glow with quiet rapture at the mention of Amos.
"Oh, well … he's cute and a lot nicer than I expected," said Lily, blushing slightly as she bit back a wide smile. "Last weekend when we went to Hogmeade's, he held all the shop doors for me and he ordered whatever I wanted at Madam's Puttifoot, he bought me some gifts—"
At that precise moment, Lily held out her wrist and showed three carefully threaded rubies that had been tied around her wrist to all three of them, preparing for their "oohs" and "ahhs."
The bracelets might have been nice to Lily, but to Alice, Su and Linda, it looked more like a cheaply bought plastic thingy at the price of one Knut.
Both Su and Linda wrinkled their noses very slightly so that Lily would not notice. Alice however, was a little more considerate.
"Uh, its nice Lily," said Alice in an unconvincing tone, but Lily didn't seem to notice. Instead, she was smiling cheerfully to herself as she picked up her wand.
"Prongs!" shouted Sirius, Remus and Wormtail all at once as soon as Harry entered the room.
"Hey," said Larry trying to sound nonchalant. "Sorry about before, I was just a little forgetful."
"To right you were," said Sirius, grinning widely. "But how did that happen?"
"I was, uh, flying on my broomstick and fell," finished Harry somewhat lamely.
"Well hopefully, you won't be doing that by yourself anymore. Honestly James, I think you and Padfoot are becoming a little more obsessed with Quidditch lately," said Remus, raising his eyebrows slightly behind his book. "You had us really worried. Did Pomfrey give you a Remembrance Potion?"
"Yep," said Harry and he sat down on where he thought was James bed.
"Hey!" protested Sirius loudly. "Its not very good business for me if you're sitting on my Invitation Bed, Prongs!"
"Invit—what?"
"Oh c'mon," said Sirius grinning suddenly like a very mad dog. "You couldn't have forgotten that I invite only the hottest looking girls in my bed every night."
Harry looked at Sirius in repulsion mingled with horror. Sure, he had known since falling into Snape's memory that Sirius had always been appealing to the opposite sex, but he just couldn't quite understand why he hadn't realize the truth quite realistically when he had spotted his godfather beforehand.
"Don't look at me like that," said Sirius. "Just because you can't get Evans in a bed, doesn't mean that you should be jealous of me, James."
Wormtail sniggered, though Remus looked hardly amused. He only smiled slightly and shook his head, having returned to his book and seemed to now be reading somewhat steadily.
Harry then remembered his mother.
Oh bloody hell! thought Harry. I forgot that dad has to date mum in seventh year! If I miss the chance and mess it up, the future will be ruined! Then I'll never be born!
But the mere thought of asking his mother out on a date was more than enough to tell Harry it was revolting. However, he realized then that this was his father's body, he wouldn't really be dating Lily, his dad would. Harry was just inside his father, and besides, the potion was surely not going to take that long to create, and he would be home in no time before he had to do anything with his mother. Well, hopefully anyway.
"So how far do you think I'm in with Evans?" asked Harry, trying to sound casual.
"How far?" shouted Remus, looking up from his book and staring at Harry as if he were mad. "James, you aren't even close! She still hates your guts! Remember how you made Head Boy, she was so angry, but more of the fact that you tried asking her out again the moment you saw her. And how about earlier today when you wouldn't leave her alone? She hexed you pretty bad, mate. Besides, she's dating that smarmy git, Amos Diggory."
Great, thought Harry sarcastically. I just found out I'm Head Boy, which is Ron's job in the future. My mum still hates my dad and he's still being an idiot. Really great.
With that, Harry flopped on the bed next to Sirius and since no one objected, he assumed it was James's bed.
Harry closed his eyes. I guess it going to take a lot of work to convince mum to date dad, especially since she has a boyfriend already. But I won't interfere with their relationship, they're bound to breakup if my mum started going out with dad in seventh year. Anyways, it still going to take a lot of work of showing dad in a new light, especially since it's deflating the big headed Potter.
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