Title: The Time Warp
Author: OCDdegrassi
Pairing: Percy/Tom Riddle Jr.
Rating: M
Warning: Slash, Time-Travel, Cross-Gen (technically), Angst
Note: A few notes before we start (please read):
1. I posted a similar story several years ago, but life and writer's block got in the way, so I deleted it after about 2 chapters. This isn't quite the same, but it has some of the same premises, so if this looks familiar to you, then that's why (and it means that you've been on this site for a long time!)
2. This takes place during Percy's 6th year – during "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets" – before Mrs. Norris is attacked. Therefore, Percy has not heard of the Chamber of Secrets yet.
3. Percy is more arrogant in this story than I usually write him, but it fits with his canon personality.
4. The warnings above are only general warnings for the whole story. I will include warnings for each chapter, but be forewarned: there will be some graphic (and dark) sexual scenes – hence the M rating.
5. I've had this idea for a while, but I was inspired to finally write it by the "Love in Time Challenge" and "Fanfictions Resolutions Challenge."
6. It's been a long time since I've posted a multi-chapter story, so please bear with me while I get used to it again!

xxx

Percy was not happy. All he wanted was one moment of peace; just one moment! Instead, he was stuck with a Slytherin for his partner in potions (because Snape was evil, as far as Percy was concerned), and said partner was determined not doing any work what-so-ever.

Whenever Percy complained that he needed to contribute, his partner would throw random ingredients into the cauldron. Didn't he have any idea how dangerous that is? Percy was halfway convinced that he was the only student in the class who wasn't a complete idiot.

An explosion was heard outside the door, and everyone stopped. Professor Snape ran out, and Percy sighed, rubbing his temples; he could feel a headache coming on. He didn't need to look in order to know that it was Fred and George…or Peeves… or all three. Whenever there was trouble around the castle, those three were usually behind it.

As if on cue, Snape pulled two familiar redheads into the classroom by their ears. Percy rolled his eyes in exasperation. Couldn't they behave for two minutes? Snape was yelling at them about destruction of school property and unsafe magical practices when Fred's wand started to glow bright orange, making a humming sound.

Snape stopped his tirade, narrowing his eyes as the twins avoided his gaze. Fred was trying desperately to get the wand to go back to normal so that Snape would stop glaring. He flicked it, and a purple light shot from the tip, landing directly in Percy's cauldron. There was a loud bang, and Percy was blinded by a bright light before everything went black.

xxx

When Percy woke up, he was lying in a bed in the hospital wing. The room looked different somehow, but Percy couldn't quite put his finger on it, though it was probably due to the fact that his head felt fuzzy. A woman that Percy had never seen before came bustling over to check on him. He blinked owlishly at her.

Madam Pomfrey never took the day off; she must have been very sick, Percy thought in concern. He had a soft spot for her because she was always taking care of his family (considering the Weasley's probably frequented the medical wing more often than any other student, aside from Harry Potter).

"How are you feeling, young man?" He tried to process the question, but his mind felt sluggish and scattered. That's what happens when you're involved in an explosion. He was going to kill his brothers. He realized that he hadn't responded to her question when the healer frowned in concern and checked his head.

"Can you hear me?" She tried again, and Percy finally managed to pull together a coherent thought from the fog in his mind.

"I'm fine. I think. Just dizzy." She nodded; looking relieved, and handed him a potion.

"Drink," she ordered, and Percy dutifully complied. It tasted like dragon piss (or what he'd assume dragon piss would taste like), and he grimaced. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another occupant enter the room. It was Dumbledore, only not.

This man had brown hair and far less wrinkles than Percy remembered, and the redhead's eyes widened. That was a pretty impressive de-aging spell! He'd have to ask him which spell he used and mentally file it away for when he was older.

"Professor Dumbledore," he started, sitting up to address his headmaster. He always wondered why they called him 'professor' when he was the headmaster, but Dumbledore insisted on it. Younger-looking Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"You know my name?" He seemed surprised, and Percy frowned. The explosion wasn't that bad. Did everyone assume that he had brain damage? Where was his family then? If it was really that bad, then they should have been there. He was vaguely offended by their absence, but he tried to push those thoughts aside and focus on the issue at hand.

"Of course I do. You're the headmaster. I must apologize for my brother's behavior. They will be dealt with swiftly and harshly, I assure you," he said seriously. Dumbledore looked increasingly surprised with everyone word that Percy spoke, and the healer was looking concerned.

"Would you give us a moment, Madam DuBois?" Dumbledore asked the healer, who nodded and quickly left the room. Dumbledore sat down in a chair next to Percy's bed, looking curiously at the redhead.

"What is your name?" Percy huffed in exasperation. Obviously his memory was fine, so there was no need for such ridiculous questions. However, he supposed it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Percy Weasley," he replied, trying to suppress his annoyance. Dumbledore nodded.

"And you are a student here?" Percy gritted his teeth, holding his head up importantly.

"Of course I am. I am a prefect," he said proudly, but Dumbledore merely nodded.

"I see. And you say that I am the headmaster?" His voice was gentle, but Percy was starting to get fed up with all the pointless questions. There were so many better things that he could be doing with his time, like killing his twin brothers. Still, it wouldn't do to insult the headmaster, no matter how insane he was. He would never be able to get a good job if he did that.

"Of course," he replied as patiently as he could. Dumbledore nodded again, stroking his beard in a thoughtful manner. They lapsed into silence for a moment, as Dumbledore seemed to consider something.

"And what year is it?" he finally asked. Percy blinked, taken aback. What an odd question? Though he supposed this was Dumbledore, so he shouldn't have been surprised. Dumbledore was just as likely to ask him if he'd ever tasted an earwax-flavored jellybean.

"1992," he answered, and Dumbledore looked startled, but the expression was immediately replaced with one of intrigue.

"Fascinating," he murmured. Percy raised his eyebrows. He didn't see what was so fascinating about it, but to each his own. Perhaps it was fascinating that Dumbledore was still alive in that year or that Percy had survived yet another of the twins' attempts on his life (though they would deny that murder was their original intention, but Percy knew better.)

"You see, Percy, it is actually 1943," Dumbledore told him kindly. He still looked completely fascinated, and Percy blinked. And blinked. And blinked again, waiting for the punchline.

"You're joking, right?" He finally asked, but Dumbledore shook his head.

"I'm afraid that I'm not. You may know me, but I don't know you. Not yet anyway. I am also not the headmaster. I am merely a transfiguration teacher." Percy's mouth fell open. He looked at the younger-looking face of Dumbledore and then around the room again. That's why it looked different. Everything looked… older. Not older like it had been there a long time, but older like it was from the past.

The beds were made of metal instead of plastic, and the medical equipment looked pretty archaic compared to what Percy was used to seeing. The room was devoid of any decorations; instead it looked very plain and sterile. This had to be a joke - or a dream. There was no way that it was 1943.

"But…how?" was all he managed to get out, looking helplessly at the headmaster – who was apparently not the headmaster.

"I'm afraid I do not know. Can you tell me what happened before you woke up here?" Percy recalled the events of potions and the explosion, and Dumbledore listened intently to his story.

"Well, Mr. Weasley, it appears that the potion and explosion have sent you back in time." Percy was tempted to roll his eyes at the response. He had gathered that much on his own.

"Yes, but how?" he questioned forcefully, but Dumbledore only shook his head.

"I don't know." Percy resisted the urge to scream, instead gritting his teeth. This was supposed to be one of the most powerful wizards in the world, and yet he was no help at all.

"Alright, then how do I get back?" He tried again, and Dumbledore looked inquisitively at him, as if trying to read him.

"I do not know that either," he stated calmly. Percy inwardly fumed. Great. He was stuck in the past with a Dumbledore who had absolutely no answers. Fantastic.

"Well, what do I do now?" He was hoping to get anything out of the younger Dumbledore. He had to at least know the answer to this!

"Well, the only thing you can do is live in this time period until we find a way to send you back. I do not know how long that will take, but I will do my best. In the meantime, it's probably best if you do not tell anyone else that you are from the future." Percy rolled his eyes.

He couldn't stop himself from muttering 'obviously' under his breath. He wasn't that stupid. If he told anyone, they would think he was a nutcase and send him straight to St. Mungo's (if St. Mungo's was even around in this time period, which Percy wasn't sure about). Dumbledore, however, seemed unfazed by his attitude.

"We will tell everyone that you are a transfer student from Durmstrang. Since the last Weasley attended school here about 10 years ago, you should be able to keep your name without having any issues. Now, what house and year were you in?" Finally, they were getting somewhere!

"Gryffindor. I'm a 6th year, and I'm also a prefect," Percy said, emphasizing his title. Just because he was in the past didn't mean that he was going to slack off on his prefect duties. He had worked hard to earn that title, and he certainly deserved it more than most of the other students in his time period. Dumbledore frowned at his response though.

"Well I'm afraid that the Gryffindor 6th years already have two prefects. There are no other prefect positons available," he said apologetically, but Percy spluttered in outrage.

"Well then you'll just have to replace one of them with me. I can assure you that I'm more qualified," he exclaimed. This situation was bad enough already, and he was not going to give up his prefect position on top of it. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"Are you sure you aren't in Slytherin?" he asked, with a hint of amusement in his voice, and Percy scowled at him. He'd heard that joke enough from people in his own time. What nobody knew was that the hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin, but he had begged to be in Gryffindor like the rest of his family; he didn't want to disappoint his parents or be even more isolated from his siblings.

He didn't appreciate the comment though. There was nothing wrong with knowing your own worth and being ambitious. Truth be told, it would be better if more people were like him in every house at Hogwarts. Dumbledore shook his head and laughed gently.

"I apologize, Mr. Weasley. It was a simple joke, though obviously not in good taste, although…" he trailed off, looking at Percy thoughtfully. Percy furrowed his brows.

"Although what?" He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like where this was going.

"Well, as it happens, the 6th year Slytherins only have one prefect. Unfortunately, the other one transferred schools recently. It was a most peculiar situation…" he trailed off again, looking rather suspicious, before continuing his thought.

"It is untraditional to have two male prefects, but I suppose we could make an exception in this case," he finished, looking quite pleased at the solution. Percy's eyes widened.

"You want me to be in Slytherin?!" he asked indignantly, and Dumbledore nodded.

"It is your choice, of course, but you need to decide which is more important: being a Gryffindor or being a prefect." He gave Percy a knowing look, and Percy narrowed his eyes. The kooky old bat already knew his answer. There was no way in hell that he was giving up his well-deserved position. At least his family wasn't here to be disappointed in his choice.

"Fine; Slytherin it is," he gritted out, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously.

Percy would not have been surprised if Dumbledore had some ulterior motive for this house-change, and the redhead wasn't happy to be a part of whatever it was, but at the moment, he didn't really have much of a choice. It looked like the sorting hat was going to get its way after all.

xxx

A/N: So what did you think? Reviews are always lovely.