Summary: Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny are sucked into the Marauders' seventh year. They must learn to live with where they are. Will it work? Will they find comfort--and even love--in their new time? Pairings HPxOC, SBxHG, RLxGW, JPxLE, FLxAM.

Chapter One: Analyze This, Hermione

"You know, Hermione, I swear you think far too much," seventeen-year-old Harry Potter said as they headed back to the Gryffindor common room after the welcome feast. "You were puzzling out the Sorting Hat's song as the first years were being Sorted."

"Didn't you find it interesting? Four from this time will travel back/Bringing good to the past and light to the future…Sounded interesting…Green meets green /Red meets red /Old meets new this—yet not this year…"

"Look, Hermione, we don't need an analysis on everything the first night back at school," Harry said in concert with sixteen-year-old Ginevra Mary (Ginny) and her seventeen-year-old brother, Ronald Arthur (Ron) Weasley. Harry unthinkingly reached out to open the door in front of them

"That's not where we're supposed to go, Harry…" Ginny's words trailed off as Hogwarts's Head Boy stepped through the doorway. It was a narrow, box-like room. "We really shouldn't."

"Come on in, there's enough room. Hermione, I need you to analyze this for me, just once." The rest of the group stepped into the small room. Hermione looked around in wonder.

"Like in the song! That stanza, Finding small stone rooms /Four from this time will travel back/Bringing good to the past and light to the future. /Green meets green /Red meets red /Old meets new this—yet not this year." As if on cue, the room pitched and turned violently.

Suddenly, it dissipated, and all four of them dropped with a thump onto another group of people. It was sunny, outdoors for some reason, and two of the four people they'd just fallen onto were laughing like lunatics. The group was really five people.

Hermione looked down into bright blue eyes, almost covered by long black bangs. "Sorry," she mumbled, standing up. The person below her did the same.

Harry looked into emerald eyes that mirrored his own. He jumped back in shock. Where the hell was he?

Ginny rolled off the person she'd landed on without a glance to see who they were, only a muttered apology as she dusted her black robes. Questioning gold-flecked blue eyes followed her every move, however.

Ron did a double take as he saw Harry's face looking at him. "Sorry, mate," he said quickly. "Didn't mean to fall on you. What was that room, anyhow? You really stuck your foot in it this time, Harry."

"Room?" repeated Harry. "What are you talking about and who are you? I know that hair—A Weasley?"

"Harry? Did you get brain damage or something?"

"No, Ron, you stupid great prat!" from somewhere to his left—in Harry's voice—was followed by a puzzled announcement, "I think you've got the wrong person here," from the "Harry" that lay in front of him.

"What is going on?" asked the boy with gold-blue eyes calmly. "Why did Lily fall on me?"

"Did not! James fell on me, though—his eyes were all funny," a female voice—obviously the aforementioned Lily—retorted firmly. "What is going on?"

"I know girls everywhere are falling for me, but they've never fallen on me," the black-haired, blue-eyed boy said casually.

"Sirius, you are such a nitwit," a new male voice, very high and very squeaky for a boy's, came. "You make the lamest jokes in Hogwarts. I'm surprised anyone but you understands any of them."

"I take pride in my jokes!" The boy named Sirius pretended to be offended. Hold that thought. Sirius. Lily. James. Where were they, indeed? Ginny asked herself.

"Hello, whoever you are," the first boy said with an easy smile. "I'm Remus Lupin." Ginny's eyes widened and she gasped.

"Sirius Black," the black-haired, blue-eyed boy added, winking at Hermione, who blushed. Harry stopped brushing dirt off his shirt and flat out stared at the boy.

"Lily Evans," the girl said. Harry emitted a strangled gasp.

"James Potter," the boy who had spoken to Ron said. Harry's eyes were as wide as golf balls.

"Peter Pettigrew," the squeaky-voiced boy said. Hermione's hand clenched into a fist immediately. Ron's eyes narrowed.

Harry's face had gone deathly pale. He looked, wide-eyed, at the five people who had just introduced themselves. James cleared his throat.

"Mind introducing yourselves?"

"Her—Hermione Granger," the young woman said slowly, scanning everyone's faces for any sign of familiarity. She only picked up on Harry and James's resemblance.

"Ginny Weasley."

"Ron Weasley." The redheaded boy elbowed his best friend in the side.

"Oh, right, erm, Harry Potter," Harry said, not thinking of an alias in case they were truly in the future.

"We related?" James asked.

"Yes," Hermione blurted. Harry groaned, his head in his hands. Ginny frowned at Hermione. Hadn't her friend told them about the dangers of messing with time? Ron gaped, not used to this Hermione.

"How?"

"He's your son," Ron put in with a small smile at the two teenagers he was really talking to. Hermione slapped him. "Oww!"

"We don't know that it really is James and Lily Potter, you idiot."

"What did you just say?" Lily said incredulously. "You didn't say Lily Potter? I'm Lily Evans. He's James Potter," she jerked a thumb over her shoulder.

"Bugger. We're making a great mess of this," Ginny commented with a slight shiver. "What year is this?"

"1976, of course," James said, nonplussed. "It's September the second."

"September the second?" Ginny whispered to Hermione. "Backlash," Hermione whispered back as Harry and Ron gaped in shock.

"No, it's 1997," Harry argued.

"1976," James countered.

"1997."

"1976."

"1997."

"As fun as it would be to watch you two argue about the year all day, I need to see Dumbledore," Ginny said, all business again.

"What?" was coupled with "Who's the redhead again? Looks just like you, Lily!" and "You know Dumbledore?"

"Of course I know Dumbledore, who doesn't know Dumbledore?" Ginny said in exasperation. Harry snorted with laughter. "Now take us to his office," she ordered. James looked at her as though he thought she belonged in the loony bin. He probably did think so, with the way they were all acting.

"Right little spitfire today, aren't we, Ginny?" Ron said with a snicker.

"Oh, shut your fat face, Ron. We've only just gone twenty-one years into the past. I'm a little frazzled." She turned to Lily. "One redhead to another, please take us to Dumbledore. We're from the future and Harry's going to have a heart attack if you don't."

"Sirius? Dad? Mum?" Harry whispered, although only Hermione, Ron, and Ginny heard him. "Either I'm dead or I'm dreaming. Hopefully it isn't heaven, if he's here." None of the future teens needed to ask whom he meant. All of their gazes focused dramatically on Peter. He held up his hands. "What's wrong? Who's the idiot talking to himself?"

"Harry Potter," Ginny said curtly. "Whom you should immediately refrain from speaking to, so as not to upset his delicate internal balance," she added.

"Sheesh, sorry!" he exclaimed.

"I'll take you to Dumbledore," Lily said abruptly. "Follow me."

"Come on, guys," Ginny said to her crew.

"Aye-aye, Captain Weasley," Harry joked, throwing her a salute as they walked toward the castle, Ginny in the lead of the future crew.

"Come off it, Harry. Just follow your mum and keep your mouth shut." Lily was so far ahead—and the Marauders so far behind—that they heard none of what they were saying.

"Yes, madam!"


"You are from the future?" Dumbledore confirmed. The four nodded. "Ah, it comes together," he said cryptically.

"'Scuze me, but what comes together?" Ginny asked.

"The Sorting Hat sang us a prophetic song yesterday. Your appearance causes me to remember a certain stanza… Four not from this time will travel here/Bringing good to the present and light to the future. /Green meets green /Red meets red /Present meets future this year at Hogwarts."

"The Sorting Hat sang—sings?—something similar in 1997," Ginny stated. "Hermione? Care to do the honors?"

"Four from this time will travel back/Bringing good to the past and light to the future. /Green meets green /Red meets red /Old meets new this—yet not this year." Hermione's voice declaimed the stanza once more, this time in Dumbledore's office twenty-two years prior.

"Well, that explains more than it doesn't," Hermione and Lily said at the same time, apparently turning the situation over in their heads. The six teenage boys laughed. Ginny smiled slightly.

"Well," Dumbledore said wearily, "I'll have to give you an assessment exam—seventh year, I think—yes, even you, Miss Weasley. It's not that long, and you can't study. If Miss Evans and Mr.—James—Potter would take Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, and Mr. Pettigrew to the adjoining room so I can talk to you—?"

"Of course, Professor," Lily confirmed.

"So, Mr. Potter, Mr. and Miss Weasley, Miss Granger, if you would?" He opened a hidden door and ushered them in, handing them each three sheets of parchment with questions written all over them.

"So that's it?" Ginny asked, incredulous. "You believe us? Nothing else? Aren't trying to check out whether or not we work for the Ugly Lord?"

"I would assume you meant—?"

"Riddle. Tom Riddle," Harry hurried to clarify. "We've come up with a few choice names for him where—forgive me, when—we come from."

"I remember the look on his face when you called him Moldyshorts," Ginny giggled. Harry elbowed her.

"Your tests await you," Dumbledore reminded them.

"Oh, right," Ginny muttered.

"Thank you, Professor," they chorused as they sat down and picked up the quills lying on the desks in the room.

"You're welcome," his eyes twinkled. Hermione was already scribbling madly on the first question as he closed the door discreetly.


A/N: I hope you enjoy this. It's finished, so it should be completely posted soon. LysPotter