Harry wasn't really sure how it happened but he was suddenly standing in the middle of muggle london, well more like a deserted alley in muggle london. Which could be a decidedly good thing considering he was less than half of his original height and his clothes were practically falling off him.

His first coherent thought as the situation seemed he catch up with him was; shit.

After a minute searching for his wand holder which had slipped off his now slender wrist, he shrunk his black suit to fit him, along with his underwear, socks, shoes, tie and his wand holder so he could. He then searched his satchel to make sure his invisibility cloak was still there, because yes he did carry it with him at all time because the war had made him a paranoid little bugger, and yes it had come in handy more than once (such as escaping from crowds of people who were looking for him).

He muttered an incantation which made the air in front of him turn mirror like to have a look at himself. It seems like someone thought it would be funny to slip him a deaging potion. He wasn't amused. The only thing he had had so far today had been his daily morning coffee, that he got every morning from the same new coffee shop in diagon alley, thats a disappointment looks like he is going to have to switch coffee shops -again.

As he examined himself he could hardly believe he had looked like this when he was younger. The dursleys had never taken any pictures of him, the only ones ever being the one that he had gotten taken in elementary school but they had never bought those so he had never had anything to look back on besides his memories.

He had never looked this good when he was this age, which he suspected was around 10 years old. He had always been covered in bruises and dirt, and couldn't have hoped to have as much weight as he did now from the malnourishment he had growing up. He had also never had clothes as nice as this before since he was always wearing Dudley's ragged hammy downs, but the big difference may be the lack of glasses. He had gotten his eyes fixed a couple years after the war ended in a very difficult and expensive procedure. It had been worth it though, not only was he not as recognizable but it also made his work and his life easier. Working as an auror was difficult add in the possibility not to be able to see and you've pretty much have a death wish.

He dismissed the mirror then heaved his satchel over his neck, hid his wand again, and started to walk out into the populated streets of london. He still had to get to his job, and find out where he was. He idly wondered if he should be worried about changing back and ruining his clothes but he figured he would feel the change start to happen before it did and would change them back then.

As he made it to a busy street with other people around he froze then had to start his brain back up again. This… was not right, not right at all. He could tell it wasn't a film set because even though he was a wizard he did enjoy muggle technology and this was not the way things worked on film sets. This was also not some sort of strange festival, first because there were no signs or booths to suggest such a thing but also because this was way too convincing.

There were old fashioned cars that looked like they should be in a museum, and the streets weren't paved like they were supposed to be. He started running through the street trying to find some place that was different, some place that was like where he was from. There were boys on old fashion bicycles delivering mail and newspapers, children running through the streets rolling around one of those wooden circular thingymabobs that you see in movies. And the way everyone was dressed, it was like he just got transported back in time.

Shit.

He suddenly stopped and someone behind him bumped harshly into his shoulder calling out to him to watch where he was walking. He turned around and ran up to one of the boys who was only a little taller than himself at the moment and was selling papers.

"Whats the date?" He asked panicking. The boy gave him a look of confusion before answering.

"December 11, only 13 more days till christmas!" He added excitedly.

"No no," it was early spring where he had been. "And what's the year?"

"Uh? 1937, you all 'right kid?"

"Yeah I'm fine, thank you." He was already running away from him dodging through people until he side stepped into an alley and leaned against the wall panting harshly. He needed a plan, and needed one fast.

But the only thing that seemed to be going through his head at the moment was;

Shit.