1

Three Rivers, California was a peaceful town, if albeit somewhat boring and lacking a creative name. At least that's what Demitri believed. However it was his home. And it had been for almost twenty years ( as Demitri liked to put it; that sounded older and more mature than 18). But the feelings of boredom rose up on rainy days like these when so few people visited his father's restaurant, Modestino's ( named after his great-great-great grandfather, or so the story was told).

"Hello, how many today?"

There were always the stubborn few who made the trek down Sierra Dr past the golf course to eat at the Italian restaurant. Strangely enough most customers came from the river junction a couple miles north. Demitri was not fond of the serving industry, but it paid for his xbox games just fine, and that was what was important.

"Two orders of kid's Spaghetti, one Lemon chicken, and one Marsala chicken." His father nodded somberly at the order and murmured a few orders to his kitchen hands. Demitri may not give off the Italian vibe with his blond messy hair, but his father was the kinda man who's first impression was usually, "Wow a real gangster. I wonder where he keeps his gun?"

At least, that's what Demitri's mother had said. Having mistaken his long curly black hair for that of her friends, the two of them met in a crowded airport and through a long and seemingly impossible turn of events ended up in the same town at the same time several times over. From that point his mother had followed his father back to his home town and asked him out.

Yeah his mom was weird like that.

"Demitri, have you seen Ruth?"

Demitri blinked over the plates of meatballs and spaghetti at his father. Was it that time already?

"You mean she isn't here?" Looking over at the clock with a chef and his hands as the clock hands, it read 7:23. "Oh wow. She's late."

His father sighed, "Yes, again," and went back to work cleaning the stove top. At times furious, at others incredibly forgiving, Demitri thought his father very indecisive when it came to the redhead waitress and her constant lateness. Passing by the foyer with the food he had a sudden what-if thought when the door flew open. Knowing what was going to happen, Demitri nevertheless had no time to stop Ruth from barreling into his side.

The food slid sideways over the tray and then fell straight down with a crash and both Demitri and Ruth were covered in sauce, noodles and chicken. Staring up at the ceiling Demitri could only mutter, "Shit."

Ruth mirrored that sentiment as she hurriedly wiped her wet sleeve over her eyes. "S-Shit your dad's gonna kill me..." Ruth looked terrible. Not only soaking wet, but her makeup was smeared across her face in obvious tear lines. Her hair was messy and disheveled, and she wasn't even dressed for work properly. Forget kill, there was only so much his father could forgive. There wouldn't be traces left.

"Demitri?" His father called from the kitchen. He no doubt heard the crash.

"Slipped on some water by the door! Need another of that last order."

There was no response except the clanging of metal and hiss of meat on the grill. From the sudden silence after Ruth came in, some customers started muttering and a few older men gave Demitri smiles, and one even sent a thumbs up his way.

"You look like shit Ruth." Demitri whispered bluntly. The girl winced and smiled pitifully as she helped pile the broken porcelain onto the serving tray. "What happened?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and opened her mouth to respond, but snapped it shut and shook her head. Then she whispered, "Thanks. For your dad. Lying to him." Ruth wasn't the best talker. She was younger than him, around 16 or 17, and attended the same school as him. It was how they met and how she came to work for his family at the restaurant. Demitri thought about all that and more as he looked at the redhead. Despite having known her for years she still refused to open up to him.

"Go upstairs." He suddenly ordered, almost before he could think of why. "Go shower and clean up. Mom can lend you some clothes." Ruth looked like the cat had caught her tongue again, opening and closing her mouth like a fish before she simply nodded. Demitri watched her go and stood for several moments after she was gone. Three years and she couldn't even speak twenty words to him in a single sitting. Well. Whatever.

It took a few more minutes to clean up the spilled food and retrieve and deliver the new order to the family. It was later, when he finally had a moment to breathe that he tried cleaning up the mess on his shirt, starting with the golden necklace that had fallen from his shirt. It was covered with tomato sauce. Pulling the double looped chain from around his neck he pulled a rag from underneath the podium and started wiping away at the mess. At the end of the looped chain were three concentric circles, with the innermost having an hourglass within it.

'I mark the hours every one' were written on one side of the outermost ring in fancy black lettering. The necklace was a birthday present; a replica from the popular books/movies Harry Potter. Demitri didn't always wear it, but had suddenly felt in the mood to wear it again today. Figures it would be covered in sauce. Sometime in the midst of cleaning the necklace Demitri noticed a man standing in front of the podium.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't hear you come in... Just one today sir?" Demitri finished wiping down the necklace and tucked it into his pocket. The man briefly followed the motion with his eyes and nodded, looking around the store with half-lidded eyes. Demitri didn't recognize the man, but he didn't recognize most of the customers. The man shook a long black coat off his shoulders and followed Demitri a table. Demitri took his order and relayed it to his father before taking a quick peek upstairs.

He could hear his mother and Ruth talking gently, too gently to overhear from the foot of the steps, but his mother sounded counseling, so he let it be. And so Demitri tried to busy himself for the next hour when his shift would end, and he could finally leave. Sometimes living in the same building as his work was convenient, at others it was suffocating. In this instance, it was the latter. Demitri thought about the Honda motorcycle waiting outside under a rain-sheet, and wondered if it was safe enough to ride to Game Stop in this weather. Probably not. But that wouldn't stop him.

Ruth had come down in the last hour and apologized to Demitri's father. The man had looked livid until Demitri's mother popped her head around the corner behind the redheaded girl. They locked eyes for several moments and then his father started grumbling and shooed Ruth away to her work.

Mom's got him on a pretty tight leash, Demitri thought, watching Ruth and fiddling with his necklace. Sitting still wasn't an issue, but Demitri had always had a problem not doing something with his hands at all times. Ruth had a pretty nice ass for being such a shy girl. After several moments Demitri felt he was being rather creepy, so he pulled the necklace around his neck, gave the hourglass a single spin and moved to the door. Then he stopped.

The scene in front of him looked both familiar and impossibly confusing. A redhead girl, who could be none other than Ruth burst through the door letting in a small torrent of rain and crashed into a blond haired man wearing a waiter apron and black slacks. The tray of food he was carrying went everywhere over the ground and for several seconds there was silence in the restaurant. Then Demitri heard his own voice say, "Shit."

The world swooned and Demitri stumbled back into the hallway leading to the staff room, mind crashing to a halt.

What the fuck?
"Demitri?" His father called from the kitchen, closer to him now than before.

"Slipped on some water by the door! Need another of that last order." The voice was strange to hear, but unmistakable. Demitri's thoughts whirled and he couldn't understand what was happening. Like trying to grasp water everything just couldn't add up and Demitri felt more confused than he had ever felt before in his life. Peeking his head around the corner, Demitri saw the man with the long black coat enter the store as the other Demitri was cleaning the necklace.

And suddenly the water was ice, and quite holdable. But a coldness settled into his chest. All at once seeing the timeturner necklace made everything logical, but also still impossible. It was a necklace from a movie; its not as if it was real or anything!

But as he watched, Demitri grew more confused. As the other Demitri lead the man to a table, the man pulled a gold chain out of his pocket and discreetly dropped it into the other Demitri's right hand pocket. Demitri patted down his pocket, but felt nothing- except... He felt the left pocket next, and felt something metal and moving. Reaching in he pulled out another necklace exactly like the one under his shirt now, only more worn and fading with age.

What the fuck!?

And suddenly there was a pressure on his back.

"Don't fucking move Rookwood."

The timeturner in his hand was ripped away, and suddenly two pairs of hands looped around his arms and pulled him deeper into the hallway and forced him against a wall. The push knocked the air from his lungs, but he looked up, frightened at the three men around him. They all wore black cloaks with the hoods pulled up over their faces, and despite the ample lighting under the hoods were pitch black. The middle one pointed a wooden stick, a wand, at him and spoke.

"Did you think we wouldn't notice you use the Golden Door? You thought you could slip away during that little skirmish between Dumbledore and You-Know-Who, but you thought wrong. You sure have fallen since you were an Unspeakable, you piece of shite!"

Demitri gaped and stuttered out, "Wha-what? I don't know... I don't know what you're talking about!"

Demitri had the impression that the man was sneering. "You're disguise is pretty good, but you didn't think about one thing, Rookwood." The man leaned in close, "This world doesn't have its own magic! So this time-turner," he swung Demitri's necklace in front of his face, "Gave off a signature miles wide! You must have thought you were so clever, jumping worlds like that, but you should have known we'd be watching the Door." The man leaned back, and Demitri felt like crying, and also wanted to start throwing punches.

"Listen you-!" Demitri surged up, struggling against the other two men, but that was as far as he got before a red light filled his vision. And then there was only darkness.

2

Demitri woke when he hit the floor. His head bounced once off the cold stone floor and a door shut behind him, throwing the room into darkness.

"Ah, fuck!" Demitri called to the empty space, grasping his aching head. It was throbbing painfully, but Demitri pulled himself up as quick as he could and looked around. He was in a small room with stone walls, and stone floors, with a single sized bed packed into the right most corner away from the door, which was a thick looking wood with an eye-slot built in on the outside, and a mail-slot built into the middle. There was one stone window on the wall opposite of the door, and moonlight streamed in from the small slit. In the left corner was a small but wide wood bucket.

What the fuck is going on? Demitri thought, walking weakly to the window. He could hear waves crashing faintly, as if far away. As a cold wind brushed past, Demitri know where he was, and started shivering in fear.

Azkaban.

There were plenty of times he wished to be whisked away into the world of Harry Potter, but not here, not ever here. The cold grey walls felt constricting and Demitri gasped for breath in the suddenly smaller room. The floor rushed up to meet him again that night and Demitri passed out.

He had nightmares of the Dementors. He felt them in his sleep. Being of sorrow and despair, something he had never felt before, drifting past his cell door at random times. He'd wearily blink awake and the room would be filled with ice creeping over the floor. This went on for two days. Food was deposited at the base of the door every day, once a day, and a change of clothes were next to the food the second day. Demitri couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't taken his clothes he'd been wearing, but, then he also wondered why they couldn't tell he wasn't this Rookwood guy.

It was during the third night in Azkaban that something happened.

"Wake up!" It was a man's voice, whispering in the night. "Come on, Demitri, wake up!"

Hearing his name spoken forced all sleep from his body in a rush. The cell was dark except for a single stream of moonlight from the window. A man with grimy, unwashed blonde hair was crouched next to his bed in dirty, torn prison clothes, and Demitri felt a wave of nausea.

"Who are you?" Demitri pulled his legs against his chest and moved back as far as he could into a corner. The man made no move except to hold up his left hand, and to reach inside his shirt with his right. From the folds he pulled out a golden necklace with a small hourglass that glinted with the moonlight.

"You." The man's voice was deeper than Demitri's. And he was clearly older too. A beard was beginning to grow on his face, though it was untrimmed and unkempt.

"What?" That didn't make any sense, but the sight of the time-turner made him reach for the one he wore around his own neck. It was still there. The man hadn't taken it.

Neither had the guards, and thats when the pieces started lining up for Demitri.

The older man- apparently Demitri himself- nodded and lowered his hands. "That's right. They thought they took it, so they didn't check again. And you didn't have a wand, so they just threw you in here."

Demitri just stared at himself, feeling the stress, the fear, the confusion all start piling up. His face burned, and his breathing started getting heavy. Then his face was stinging.

"Stop being such a fucking pussy." The older Demitri spoke quietly as he pulled his hand back. "I don't have a lot of time so listen up. I've been here for several months now. Its not going to be easy, but if you keep acting like that some serious shit will go down. You'll see what'll happen when a young man comes in in a few weeks." The older Demitri looked away, like he was looking far away for a few moments, then turned back.

"But you have this," he gestured to the time-turner in his hand. "With it, you can save yourself when the times come." Times? Plural? Demitri just wanted to crawl up in a ball and leave. "Oh, I forgot about that." His voice was softer, if only slightly. "You don't realize... Listen-look at me-listen, you are afraid, I get that. You are feeling cold and terrified because of the Dementors. But you don't need to feel that way. There is a defense. And it will work immediately, trust me."

Demitri look up to see the man smiling widely. His slightly yellowed teeth were still white enough to shine in the darkness of the room. The older man leaned in close and placed his strong heavy hands-were those really his own from the future?- on Demitri's shoulders and leaned in close.

"We are here." If possible he seemed to smile wider.

"What?" Demitri muttered, confused.

"We. Are. Here!" The man's eyes sparkled with an inner glee. "Here! In this world. This world of Harry Potter, time travel, and..." Demitri suddenly understood, and felt his heart leap into his throat. He and his future self finished the sentence together.

"Magic!" The older man smiled and nodded his head, "Yes! Remember that, and feel that hope? That feeling of elation? You will never lose it. Keep it in your heart, and know peace, because we are here!" From outside the door, there was a distant echo, and the future Demitri looked over his shoulder.

"Shit, not much longer now. Okay, listen up, and don't interrupt" he lost the smile and looked at Demitri seriously as he leaned back away. "One: You can not change the past with time-turners. You can only be in more than one place at a time. In effect, you only change your present. There's a difference. Two: You can only go back a maximum of 24 hours, unless, you switch time-turners with your past self. Using that second time-turner, you can go back another twenty four hours, making a total of 48 hours. You can do this again, and again, and keep going back farther, like what i've done. Three," he smiled at this, "There exist female Dementors. Keep that in mind in a few weeks! It will save your life. And finally, four." He got up from the floor and moved to the door.

Footsteps echoed from the hall louder and louder as they got closer and the older Demitri rose one finger to his lips as he waited behind where the door would open. As the door swung open, a portly man in fancy robes waved his wand ostentatiously in the air and looked down his nose at Demitri.

"So! You are the new inmate, hmmm?" he moved forward into the cell, always keeping his wand in the general direction of Demitri. Unseen behind the door, the older Demitri slowly moved like a shadow towards the wizard.

"I was told Rookwood was in this cell, but that must be a-"

"Mistake?" The older Demitri whispered into the fat man's ear. The man's face erupted in horror as he spun around, wand twirling through the air, but the older Demitri was faster. His fist caught the wizard square in the face and sent him laying flat on his back. Kicking the wand from the wizards hand, both Demitris looked up and locked eyes.

"Four: I'm a motherfuckin badass!" With that he rushed out of the cell into the corridor, and took off running. The wizard sputtered and rose on shaky legs, looked angrily at Demitri, then did a double-take to the older man running away and swore. Running as fast as he could with his weight the wizard followed the older Demitri, waving his wand to shut and lock the door behind him. For almost an hour Demitri sat and waited, hearing the alarms and guards shouting, the prisoners roaring and shaking their cells. Finally it all settled and he heard a faint cheer rise up from the lower levels. He escaped then? A bubbling laughter escaped his mouth.

He escaped! Here three days plus some months, and he would escape. Wonderful. He couldn't stop laughing. And that was how the wizards found him, laughing, everyday for the next four months. Laughing because he knew, didn't wish or hope, but knew he would one day soon, a long time ago, escape this prison. And to think it only took bedding a Dementor to find the location of the supply docks, hidden away from all prisoners beneath their very feet.

As he rode the waves in the self-driving boat, Demitri looked back at the stone building he spent the last half year of his life at. Good riddance. Though, looking down at his arms, nearly thrice the size of when he arrived in this world months ago, prison ended up being good for something. But his survival truly was owed to the ability to time leap as he did. If it hadn't been for that game on time travel, back in his world, he might not have ever come up with the concept.

Now, if he wasn't as mad as a hatter, though every depiction of the hatter has been flattering in his experience, then the year should be 1996, sometime after Harry stormed the ministry with his friends to rescue Sirius. So, in between the Order of the Phoenix, and The Half Blood Prince. Demitri racked his thoughts, trying to recall where Harry would be. And then he had the thought, is Harry really who he should try and find?

He stirred in his thoughts as the boat trudged forward through the sea. Meeting Harry Potter would certainly be amazing, especially as Harry Potter and not Daniel Radcliffe. Shit... What else about this world would be entirely different, Demitri thought.

"I don't know how I got here, but I'm here. I'm not going to waste this. So many ideas, so many possibilities. Who knew reading so much fanfiction would turn out to be helpful?" The sea gave no response.

Harry it was, then. If anyone could help him get into Hogwarts it would have to be him. How to do that though? Where would he be? Demitri hunkered down in the boat and covered himself with a blanket stolen from Azkaban, along with some assorted goods; food and the like. In the Order of the Phoenix, he tried to remember, Harry went to the ministry towards the end of the year, though school was still in session. So he'll likely still be there. Then, he'll spend the summer with the Dursleys for a time, then move to Sirius's house. Grim-something? Demitri couldn't recall the name of the house in London. But it wouldn't matter; he wouldn't be able to meet Harry there. Shielded as it was from literally everyone, including the fidelius charm, that was a dead end. So it would have to be before that point. The Dursleys then. That means Surrey. That wouldn't be easy either. London would be an easy place to find, but Demitri was an American, and had next to no knowledge of the area. And what about money? How would he get the money to buy train, or bus tickets? And what about ID's? This was getting more and more tricky.

And then Demitri had an idea for one of his troubles. So, first he'd find some money. With this as a base, he would make his way; a muggle on a journey to reach Hogwarts. Demitri laughed, and hoped they were ready for him.

3

Time leaping could be achieved only on certain conditions. One: In order for the jump to occur, he must travel back in time one full day, to a place where his past self is. Then, he can switch time-turners with the past version. With that done, the new time-turner is still time travel ready, and can be used to go back a day from that point. This means he would be 48 hours back from his original time. The only catch is the spend time-turner given to the past self wouldn't be usable until a day later. That caused some close calls, but some simple calculations and quick thinking saved himself.

The second condition was that he can only jump if he knows where his past self is, and if his past self is actually in the process of having used the time-turner. In that case, the past time-turner is unusable at that time. Also, his past self must in fact have a time-turner to switch with. As long as that holds true, if he can be in the right place at the right time in the past, he can travel back in time as far back as long as he's had a time turner with him. That is to say, About two weeks.

Sitting in some garbage behind a major bank in the midst of London, Demitri contemplated his life in this new world. So far, it was kind of shitty, but he was as happy as a lark just to be here. And it would be getting better, he thought as he checked his stolen watch. Noon exactly. A figure appeared in thin air before him. Standing up from the ground, Demitri waved to his future self, and he waved back. They quickly swapped time-turners, and the future Demitri used it right away.

From there, Demitri wasted a day doing reconnaissance. He went to the subway and studied maps, took notes on some stolen paper with stolen pens. He learned the general areas of Surrey and where the Dursleys might be. Then, at exactly noon a day after having swapped time-turners, Demitri went back in time and met his past self at the garbage. Taking the other time-turner, Demitri jumped back again. Now was the moment of truth. Walking around the bank Demitri felt a weight settle on his back, and looked to find a backpack slung over his shoulder and a familiar face fading into the shadows of an alley. Continuing around the building with the London crowd, Demitri walked into the bank and found a bank teller.

"Hello!" He smiled and greeted the man with a chipper voice but quickly changed to a serious demeanor. "I set up an account earlier today and I want to deposit my liquidated assets." In truth he set up the account a full two days ago, but that was only on his personal time stream. The man blinked at Demitri's accent but nodded and they quickly got to business. It was some time later that Demitri walked out of the bank, richer by almost half a million dollars, though in truth that was only a portion of the money. And there was still work to do. Walking some distance he entered the subway and found the stops needed to arrive at another bank.

He wasted a day eating good food for once and sleeping in a real bed for the first time in weeks. It was glorious and almost made him cry. By noon, he was at the second bank again, and he walked in and asked to see his deposit box, which he had set up the day ( three days for himself) before. As the employee shut the door, Demitri pulled out his time-turner and turned it 12 times, and suddenly he was in a darkened room full of money. Taking the money and stuffing it into his bag, he filled it to the brim and then some, and then stuffed it into his deposit box and locked it inside another box still. That done, he pulled out the time-turner and gave it another 12 turns. When the world stopped moving, he was met with his past self, the very first of this particular time stream. He waved, gave a salute and wink, and switched time-turners with himself yet again. This done, he walked to a private room and turned back time a few hours and simply walked out with several other customers also leaving.

After all that Demitri was rather proud of himself. It may seem rather criminal, abusing his time travel capabilities this way, but he was forced into this world, and he needed the money. He didn't have an identity in this world. And so he went on with life, rather wealthy for the first time in his life. Next stop, Surrey.