Author's Note: Hello everyone, welcome to my first Harry Potter fic. I couldn't wait very long before importing my favorite (original) character into this particular world, so…here goes. Enjoy. Oh, and please review, as critically as you like. And finally, I would like to warn you I don't have the books available for reference, and I haven't read them in a year (gasp), so some things may be foggy. Tell me if they are.

Disclaimer: The only things in this that are mine are the things that I thought of. Ah ha! That means all original characters who have decided to visit Harry Potterland. Everything else is of course the property of the author, thank goodness that she thought of it.

Acknowledgements: I'd like to thank the author of the HP series for her excellent work and for a world to play in. And, as a special thank-you, I would like to thank George Lucas.

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"Who is that?" asked Ron as he and Harry passed through the great hall, looking for Hagrid. Harry looked up, brushing his hair out of his face, to see whom Ron was staring at.

There at the other end of the Hall, talking to Professor Dumbledore, was one of the strangest wizards Harry had ever seen. Tall, athletically built, he was dressed in a short white robe which was open down the front and came down only to his knees. A pair of baggy white pants topped black leather knee-high boots, and over the torso section of the white robe was a vest in tie-dye colors. The man's hair, brown going to grey, hung down to his shoulders, and his neatly combed beard covered his chin and jaw and drifted down to just touch his chest. There was a flower of some kind tucked behind his left ear, and in his right hand was a smooth, shiny white staff topped by a green stone clutched in a silver dragon's claw. At the moment this bizarre figure was grinning widely and laughing at something Dumbledore had said. The two appeared to be having a grand old time.

"I haven't the slightest. I've never seen a wizard like that," Harry said, brow furrowing in surprise.

"Neither have I. But oddly enough, he looks vaguely familiar."

"Well, he should. I believe your father works with him, occasionally," said Hermione as she walked up behind them. "That's Maximilian Lloyd, of the Department of Mysteries. You know…an Unspeakable. So I suggest you don't speak of him. Come on, Hagrid is waiting for us."

As the three friends hurried onward, Harry glanced over his shoulder once more at the strange figure of Maximilian Lloyd, and wondered what he and Dumbledore were talking about.

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"It's a Monday, you see, Max, and I'm never at my best on Mondays." Dumbledore yawned. "The old age creeps up on one on a Monday."

"I know what you mean, Albus, I know what you mean. That's the unfortunate effect of the dreaded Monday-Monday." Maximilian Lloyd, of the Department of Mysterious, sighed deeply. "I always try to skip over Mondays if I can help it. Sadly, today I couldn't help it."

"Ah yes. There are some things we cannot skip over. Such as anything above mid-thigh height. I have tried it many times, but no matter how energetically one skips there is a limit to the altitude one can achieve. Unless one cheats, of course."

"Cheating is something I hardly ever skip. Speaking of cheating, who's that young fellow over there?"

Dumbledore followed Max's gaze. "I think you know very well who that is. Harry Potter. Surely you've seen his likeness."

Max shook his head. "You know I never read the papers, or anything with pictures in it. Not since that one self-portrait tried to murder me. Damn egotist. He kept screaming 'There can be only one.' It was a pity to have to destroy the thing. One of my best works." Dumbledore smiled, remembering the incident with the murderous portrait.

"Perhaps, if you had not painted a sword into his hand he would not have attacked you."

"The crazy fellow would've found a weapon somehow. And besides, I never go without a good sword at my side." Max grinned. "Anyway, enough about me and my problems. I'm glad Potter had business elsewhere. I don't think the time is quite ripe for me to be introduced to him."

"I don't intend to pluck that time, and when it shrivels and falls off the tree I will go on a very long holiday. You would be a corrupting influence on the lad."

"Me? How could I do any more harm than the insane faculty that lurks around this old hole?" Max gestured with his head to encompass the entirety of Hogwarts.

"Times have changed, Max. We are not quite as unsettled as we were in your time here."

"Well, any settling that may have happened has absolutely nothing to do with my leaving. Other parties are responsible."

"Obviously. Parties that we shall refrain from talking about until—wait, did you hear that?" The Bloody Baron had just flown, screaming, in one side of Dumbledore's head and out the other, chasing a maidenly ghost with a malicious look on his face.

"Yes, I think I did! How uncanny," Max mused, stroking his chin.

"Indeed." They both looked around vaguely for a moment.

"In any case," continued Dumbledore abruptly, "it wouldn't do any harm to adjourn to my study, where we are safer to refrain from refraining."

"I'm game. Or was it a tie? Oh, never mind, we'll figure it out later. Lead on, old friend." Max gestured grandly with his staff.

So the two departed from the great hall, followed by the curious gazes of various students.

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More chapters to come. What'd you think?