Disclaimer: I do not own anything in relation to HP, nor do I profit from it.

AN: Thank you for all your lovely reviews 3 Hope you enjoy the chapter!

~xx~

James stared mutely at the figure below him.

He didn't think that it had been a trick of the eye. He was sure that one moment, the space had been empty, clear, absent of anything thing but a chair. The next moment, a person had appeared, grasping the legs of the chair and groaning softly. He had been the first to move, the first to carefully walk over to the person and look down on him. At first glance, he seemed normal, however, when the boy had looked up at him, he had seen a near reflection of himself. A mop of unruly black hair, a strong jaw but green, shining eyes and a lightning bolt scar. The boy seemed to have used every ounce of strength within him for he had collapsed nearly as soon as he had met his gaze.

Sirius stood as well, his mouth open in shock as he stared at the guy. Remus was calm and silent, although his eyes were trained securely on the boy below. Peter, strangely enough, wasn't even looking at the boy but looking between himself and the others with a nervous, anxiety filled look.

After a period of quiet observing, Sirius nudged the guy with his foot callously. A thin silence stretched between them, before Sirius spoke, "Padfoot…did you just see what I did?"

Peter looked around worried as he fingered his shirt nervously. Glancing in the Librarians direction he spoke quickly, "What just happened?"

"I don't know," said James.

"We should get help," said Remus determinedly.

"Okay, get help," said Sirius, aware that he had already had enough bad opinion gathered on him throughout the day.

Remus looked at him with his eyebrow raised, "Okay, fine. I will. Sirius, come with me." His tone left no room for argument.

He was gone in a minute, his back tense and stern as he walked in the direction of the Librarian, Sirius sullenly by his side. James breathed heavily, crouching down to see the boy clearly. He was breathing, which was a plus, and quite evenly by the sound of it. His face was pale, a shade that usually came from shock, almost as if he had been drained. He seemed strangely familiar and already, the similarities in appearance were getting to him.

"James?" He looked up, seeing only Peter with his anxious face and shifting eyes, "What if they think we did it?"

The whisper of the boys voice made it seem even more terrifying of a prospect, "But we didn't."

"But," said the boy, "T-they don't know that, do they? We don't have a lot of credibility in terms of honesty. What if they don't believe us?"

He frowned, "They will. Stop worrying, it's just an accident of some sort. Probably just got splinched."

He could see the Librarian walking through the doors of the library hurriedly, Sirius and Remus coming towards them with slightly easier expressions. Peter, persistent on the issue, spoke almost in a whisper this time, his voice so small and insecure that it quite annoyed James, "But James. You can't apparate in Hogwarts. How could he have been splinched?"

"Look, I don't know, Wormtail!" He said, rather aggressively. Truthfully, the boys words had frightened him. He had no concern about being accused of harming the boy but there was something in the appearance of the mysterious stranger which set his figurative hackles of edge. He wanted the boy to awaken and spill his story, he wanted to know why he looked so similar and yet strangely different. As if he had only taken half of James. Lily, always present, came to his thoughts. He wondered how he could tell the girl of what just happened. Even though she barely tolerated him, he had a strange affection for her, almost as if he was begging for her friendship. He had wanted to go out with her since the start of school but she had made it pretty clear that his feelings were not her issue.

Standing in silence, the Professor's footsteps sounded loudly in their ears. The Librarian rushed in after her, waddling towards her desk with a strange look in their direction. They turned towards the door, for once comforted by the appearance of Professor McGonagall. "

What have you boys done this time?" She said as she approached them. Peter gave a nervous squeak that reminded James of his animal counterpart and stepped back a fraction.

Her eyes widened as she saw the boy who was sprawled in front of them. Turning to face the group she practically spat out her words, "So he just 'appeared,' in front of you then?"

"Yes," said Remus, knowing that he was the most liked and honest of the group, "It was only moments after you left. He hasn't let go of the chair since."

"Why am I not surprised that such a thing happened? Must you four always be tangled in whatever mysteries this castle has to offer?"

"I'm sorry Professor but we really have no idea what happened."

She sighed, looking at the boy. Whipping out her wand, she spoke quietly, casting an Elevation charm on him. Although initially resistant to the idea of letting go of the chair, the boy soon followed the direction of the woman's wand. With gravity pushing at his clothes, James could see how thin and small he was, although his face looked mature enough to be at least their age, perhaps a little younger. McGonagall turned back to them, "I want all of you to go to the Headmaster's office. Surely he will need to be alerted about this... visitor. I shall take him to the Hospital Wing and see what can be done."

They nodded, waiting for her to walk through the Library first.

Before leaving, the Professor looked back at them once last time, leaving the solemn group to nervously head towards the headmasters office.

~xx~

Harry groaned as he rolled over in the bed.

His body ached. He could remember an ache familiar to it, the type that came from hours in the garden, crouching and kneelings. His shoulders throbbed viciously and his head felt like it was swimming, even with his eyes closed. He blinked, remembering what had occurred. He had been in the memory and then, suddenly, he had been in a huge amount of pain and the world around him had seemed to almost.. scream at him. As if telling him to do something that he would not do. He gasped as he relished in the memory of his father, of a young Sirius and Remus. All of them without despair and loneliness written around their eyes. It was strange to see them so carefree, so young. To see his father talk and react, not just stare blankly at the lens of a camera.

Smiling at the thought of his father he ignored the buzzing in his head and the feeling of nausea. All of that didn't matter, for once in his life he had been in touching distance of his father. He wasn't thick and he knew and remembered the shoes of someone walking towards him. The shoes that walked from the exact same chair that his father had sat in. He knew that something strange had happened, that somehow, he could interact with his father. He wasn't sure if he was in their time or still his own but he was confused and isolated. What he needed at the moment was to speak with the Headmistress. He needed to apologize and then beg for forgiveness. And then, he needed to get himself out of wherever he was.

Harry suppressed a shudder at the images that flooded his mind. If he was in his father's time, there were so many people alive. Dumbledore, Sirius, his mother and his father. All of them unknowingly living their lives, sure that they would die old and feeble. Focusing his eyes by squinting, he glanced at the door quickly as he heard footsteps ring out towards him. Deciding on his course of action he lay back onto the bed, turned over so his back was to the door and closed his eyes.

He could hear the distant sound of talking which rumbled closer and closer, "…over in that bed over there. He's still asleep though so don't you dare wake him!"

One pair of footsteps went in the opposite direction while the majority continued on towards him.

Harry's heart nearly stopped as the footsteps ceased just centimeters from his bed. Shuffling started and then a voice broke the silence, soft and whispered, "Who do you think he is?"

He recognized Sirius's voice, a sort of awe, mingled with curiosity striking his voice.

"I don't know." His father's voice was wary, "But he... have you noticed anything about him."

"Um, how about the fact that he's a mirror image of you?"

"Well yes, that's what I meant."

Remus cut in, "Perhaps he's a relative?"

"Why would he appear like that?"

"I don't know... But he's just a boy. Can't be too much harm to talk to him."

Harry opened his eyes and turned around. The boys stared at him in shock, James having the expression of a deer caught in headlights. Peter was anxiously standing behind the ground, peering over their shoulders to see him. He sat up, rubbing his head and feeling that familiar scar tingle against his fingertips. He had not felt it come alive, which was at least a good sign. The pensieve had not broke then because of Death Eaters. Though surely they would be more imaginative with their plans then to strand him in such a way.

"Uh... hi..." He said warily.

Having sat up, he strung his fingers together nervously as they watched him. Remus was the first to move, stepping forward and speaking calmly, "Hello."

Feigning confusion, he looked up at the ceiling and then the door, "Where am I?"

They looked between each other, James stepping forward, "You're at Hogwart's. We found you unconscious in the library."

"Unconscious? I don't remember anything. I don't understand," he had always been good at lying to Petunia, it was easy to lie to such impressionable youths.

"Well, we found you knocked out next to our table at the Library. What's the last thing you remember?"

"Well," he said, trying to fumble for a back-story that was even a little plausible, "I was... shopping... with my Uncle. In Diagon Alley. I came across a store, in one of the back alleys. And... it had a book. And I touched it and.. well, here I am." He said sheepishly. His excuse sounded terrible to his ears, he was sure that they would see through it.

However, most of them looked convinced. Remus, of course, looked suspicious. He had always been able to gage Harry's emotions, perhaps because he was so like Lily in his mannerisms. At least, that's what he had been told. He knew that his story had to be convincing enough to get him, at least, to the Headmistress.

"I think I know what it may have been," said James, his expression serious and drawn, "Dark magic."

Harry tried not to let his shock show. It seemed that he had been supplied with an excuse. "It might have been, it was quite a dark store. It seemed."

"So what's your name?" Butt in Sirius, evidently curious.

"Harry."

"Well, Harry, I'm Sirius." Harry nodded and grinned. It seemed that while this Sirius wasn't as dark and drawn, he was definitely the same outgoing, sociable person he had always been. Sirius pointed to each of the boys as he introduced them. Peter didn't speak as he was introduced, merely smiling weakly before flicking his eyes around the room. He tried not to let his distress show at seeing such an evil, dangerous man standing within a meter of him. To think that the awkward, nervous boy in front of him would be responsible for a dark lord's rise, for Harry's parents demise. For the friend, next to him, who would die protecting his child and wife.

There was an awkward silence as they regarded each other.

Footsteps echoed throughout the hospital as someone approached. Harry tried to stop a grin as he saw McGonagall round the corner. She was younger, as he had first seen in the memory and without the faintness of the memory, he could clearly see that while she was stern, she did not have the same dangerous, seriousness about her which was usual within the war.

"Ah, so our patient is awake," she said, coming to the bedside and looking down at him. He felt such a rush of fondness for her that it nearly overwhelmed him.

"His name is, Harry," said Sirius.

"I believe he has vocal cords, Mr. Black."

"Yes, Professor."

Harry suddenly realized, in this time, she wasn't a Headmistress. She was still a Professor of Transfiguration. His heart leapt because suddenly, it occurred to him that just as McGonagall was no longer a Headmistress, Dumbledore was then alive.

"Harry, are you well?"

"Yes, I am. Professor." Her eyebrows raised at the title he applied for her. He wondered if he had made a mistake, after all, how would someone outside of the school know to call her professor?

"Then, would you please accompany me to the Headmaster's office?"

His heart leapt and he tried to not show the excitement he felt on his face.

"Of course, Professor."

~xx~

AN: Thanks for reading so far and thank you for all of the fantastic reviews!