Chapter Two: A Good First Impression

Dumbledore's hope wasn't fulfilled as the weeks went by. Neither he nor the other teachers, who had stayed with him over the holidays to find a way of sending Harry back to where he belonged, succeeded in their research.

Harry still couldn't remember anything of his years obviously spent at Hogwarts. When he had told Dumbledore everything that he actually remembered, the headmaster had only listened. At the mention of his dead parents however, who had died in a car crash, as far as Harry knew, the boy thought that he had seen genuine sorrow in those blue eyes. But he hadn't dared to ask why it obviously troubled the old man so much.

"As far as I am concerned, Harry, it is not a bad thing that you don't remember the happenings during your time at Hogwarts, of which I am sure you have been spending it at one time like I said before. Time Travelling is a serious matter, and maybe there's a reason for your loss of memory. Maybe you would be tempted to change something in the past, and that would have devastating effects."

Harry couldn't be so sure of Dumbledore's light making of his memory loss. He felt incomplete and it was still a strange feeling that he had grown so much. He felt like an eleven year old, fearful and unsure, and yet he was already sixteen. Those strange wizard healers had found out about his age.

But what he did believe was that he had been to Hogwarts before. Because sometimes he felt like he had seen some of the pictures at some time and when he spent time with the headmaster, something in the back of his mind seemed to stir. When he had told the old man, he had merely smiled, silently telling him that Harry should never doubt his words.

But how could he not? How should he trust this man he did not know? However…everything he had revealed to him on his first visit seemed to turn out to be the truth after all. He was a wizard in fact.

The first prove had been that he had some strange stick kept in his pocket, which turned out to be a wand.

A wand. Harry had laughed out loud as he had learned that wizards were supposed to do magic with a wooden stick. Just in all those fairy tales the Dursleys had never read to him.

But soon enough he was doing magic with his wand and he simply enjoyed it. Dumbledore had told him to train, because if they would not be able to send him back in time when the term started again, he should be able to do at least most of the spells the others could do. At First, Harry had thought him mad for thinking that he could actually reach the required level for the sixth school year. But after some training he found himself quite capable of conjuring magic. Even Dumbledore seemed to be impressed by his progress, but then he had told him, that he had never had a doubt about that.

Where this confidence in Harry came from, the boy didn't understand, but honestly – he didn't even care. As the weeks went by, he actually felt quite at home in this strange school. Sometimes he caught himself at the thought of never wanting to go back in his own time – because that would have meant that he was never forced to live in the hell of the Dursley-home again. He also liked Hogsmeade a lot and all of the people had been very nice to him so far.

A woman, Mme. Rosmertha – the Bartender owning the Three Broomsticks – had asked him an awkward question he couldn't answer. If he was a relative of James Potter and how amazing the likeliness of them both was she had said.

Harry had merely shrugged and said that he didn't know a James Potter. It hadn't even been a lie, for he had never had the pleasure of meeting his father. He hadn't given her an honest answer because he had remembered just than that Dumbledore had said that he wasn't allowed to tell the town people of his origin. And just as he had left the bar he had started to realize that there was a possibility of his father being here at Hogwarts. He had wanted to ask the headmaster about this thought, but then had simply forgotten over all his training and reading.

Remus sat in his room at Grimmauld Place, recollecting all the events that had happened on this fateful Friday. He still couldn't quite digest all the memories that were flowing through his mind right now and his head aced like hell. Too many emotions were running through him at the moment and he wished for nothing more than a very deep sleep. But sleep was one thing surely denying itself from him. Upstairs he had someone nearly as confused as himself and he didn't know how to cope with his appearance, too.

"Oh Harry…" he whispered into darkness, letting his head sink onto his hands. "Come back safely…"

The last day of the summer holidays approached and Harry found himself face to face with Dumbledore in his office once more, the headmaster bearing a severe expression.

"As it would seem, we couldn't find a solution for your little problem. For now, you have to stay over the school year as well. I don't know whether the magic used, making you travel through time, is permanent or not, but right now we have to assume that it is the case. And because of that I have to discuss a serious matter with you, before you can meet the other students. This matter concerns your parents."

Harry's heart jumped at the mention of his parents and he remembered what Mme. Rosmertha had asked him a few days earlier. So his assumption had been right.

"You told me that your parents died in a car crash when you have been a mere infant. And their names were James and Lily Potter. And as it happens, those two are also students at Hogwarts right now."

"So I get to know my parents!!" Harry exclaimed happily but was silenced by Dumbledore's stern expression.

"My dear boy, I can understand that you feel happy about this information, but I have to remind you about the dangers when it comes to time travelling. You are – under any circumstances – forbidden to tell them who you are. Is that clear?"

Harry felt his heart sink and his eyes darkened. Of course. He couldn't reveal himself. They would only be some students to him, nothing more.

"I know how you feel, but it is of utter importance. James Potter and Lily Evans are merely sixteen themselves. What do you think would happen, if they learned that they will have a son in the future? They are not even a couple yet – as far as I am informed." At that statement Harry could see a gleeful sparkle in the blue eyes of the old man and he wondered what he was thinking.

"You can never foresee what such an announcement could cause. Maybe they would never become a couple and you would never be born?" He added with a chuckle and Harry furrowed his brows, slightly angry.

"Okay, okay I get it. No parents." He shot back and growled. Somehow he felt that the old man seemed to enjoy this little game. But Dumbledore's expression got serious once more and Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Even more important is that you've told me, they would die at a very young age. This makes me very sad and leaves me wondering as well. A car crash you said? They are both wizards. And wizards normally don't use cars…but anyway…you are not to warn them, do you understand? As sad as it is, I have to remind you once more of the meddling with time. It is strictly forbidden."

Harry felt frozen in his chair and stared at the headmaster in disbelief. Until him mentioning it, Harry hadn't even thought of the possibility of warning his parents. But now this was all he could think about. And he wasn't allowed to do it.

"You have to promise me, Harry. Or you won't be able to attend the school. I'm serious on this matter."

When Harry looked up he could see the sorrow in the eyes of Dumbledore and it seemed to match his own quite well. And so he nodded.

"I promise." He whispered and Dumbledore smiled sadly. As Harry stood up to take his leave however, the headmaster held him back.

"One more thing before you leave, Harry. You said your uncle's name is Dursley, right? To not confuse your young father any more than your physical appearance will surely do, your last name will be changed into Dursley for the time being. Try to remember that so you won't cause trouble. And Harry? Don't be disappointed in your father. He is only a teenager."

At this statement Harry cast the headmaster a surprised look but the old man had already focused on something else and Harry seemed to be dismissed.

"Ahhh, once again back at Hogwarts! This is soo gonna be my year!" A happy James Potter jumped up the stairs that were leading to the Great Hall, leaving an equally bouncing Peter Pettigrew, a gently smiling Remus Lupin and a slightly bored Sirius Black a few steps behind.

"And what makes you think that?" Remus chuckled, while taking two steps at a time. The one spoken to, who had already reached the top of the stairs, whirled around, a superior grin spreading across his face. "This is my secret of success. Won't share it with the bunch of you!"

"Evans wrote to him over the summer." Sirius had also reached the top and was starting off for the Great Hall, suppressing a yawn. "He's been useless since then."

Remus chuckled again and this chuckle turned into laughter when James stared somewhat stupidly at his best friend. "Padfoot! Why did you tell them?" he shouted, but Sirius merely shrugged. "As if you would't have told them. You will tell the whole world. It's not a big deal anyway." With that he walked on.

"What's wrong with him?" Peter asked, finally reaching the top as well. Sighing, James merely shook his head. "Actually…I don't know. One day, he just appears at my doorstep, asking me, if he could move in. No explanation or anything. Of course I said yes…but…I worry about him. Something's happened and he won't tell me." He sighed once more and then started to follow Sirius into the feasting Hall. But before he could enter, Minerva McGonagall stopped him, a stern expression on her lined face.

"Potter. The headmaster wants a word with you before the feast is going to start. He awaits you in the room next door."

The boy seemed to shrink some inches and turned around, hoping for help from his two friends. But Remus and Peter just looked at him surprised and a little bit intimidated.

"I didn't do anything, I swear! The term hasn't even started yet!" He yelled, but the teacher's stern expression silenced him abruptly. "Don't make such a fuss, Potter. He only wants to speak with you. Now go on." With that he pushed him into a small room, next to the Great Hall, leaving Remus and Peter wondering.

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Harry felt more and more nervous as the time went by. He sat in a small room just outside the Great Hall and he could already hear the chatter of the students arriving. There had to be at least a hundred different voices and among them were his father and his mother.

He wondered if they could be friends as long as he had to stay there and he had already decided to make a good first impression on them. If he couldn't tell them that he was their son, coming from the future, he at least wanted to be their friend. He had a good feeling about this – only Dumbledore's strange comment about his father left him a little bit worried.

"No! Everything will turn out just fine. They surely are nice people." He told him himself sternly.

Suddenly the door opened and a boy came tumbling in, still yelling about something he didn't do. When Harry recognized him, his heart seemed to stop in its beats. There he was, James Potter in all his glory – even if he didn't look quite glorious at the moment. Minerva McGonagall entered as well and gave Harry warning look and the boy instinctively took some steps back.

"The headmaster will be here in a minute." She said, before leaving again. Just then James Potter had acknowledged that another person was with him in that tiny room. When he took a closer look however, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Who the fuck are you?!" He yelled, shaking his head in disbelief. Once again, Harry took some steps back, feeling slightly intimidated. This was not the way he had imagined meeting his father. But before he could give him an answer, another person entered.

"My my, my boy. What language." Dumbledore smiled at them and James's face grew hot with shame. "Sorry headmaster." He murmured, not quite able to take away his eyes from this strange boy, standing in the opposite corner of the room.

"Please, you two, take a seat." The headmaster went on and the boys obeyed. When they were settled, Dumbledore smiled at them again, before beginning to speak.

"This is Harry Dursley. He's an exchange student from another school. I thought, it would be best, if you, Mr. Potter, could meet him before the others, so you won't drop dead in front of the whole school." The old man chuckled at the somewhat comical expression on the boy's face.

"How thoughtful of you…" James whispered, but only Harry seemed to hear.

"I have been surprised likewise, when Harry appeared, but we live in a magical world in which anything seems possible. Maybe he is your astrological twin?" The old man winked at the both of them, receiving a dark look from James and a helpless one from Harry.

"Anyway, I hope you will become good friends and you will help Harry to feel at home in our school. He has been sorted into Gryffindor already, so you can take him with you to the feast. Now leave."

With those words, Dumbledore disappeared leaving to stunned boys behind.

Harry turned to James, wanting to say something, but his father came first.

"One thing, Dursley. Only because you look a lot like me, doesn't mean that I am your babysitter. I will show you were to sit, but that's it. We are no astronomical twins or anything the old man says. I say it just once, so listen closely: Don't cross my ways. I really don't like someone running around with my face. And I surely don't want to have a friend that does."

With every word, Harry seemed to get smaller and smaller. Out of anything, he had never expected such a reaction. And because of that, he could merely nod in acknowledgment.

"Good." James stood up abruptly and turned to leave. When Harry didn't follow instantly, he whirled around, eyes flashing angrily. "Are you coming or what?!"

The boy jumped and hurried after his father. This year won't be as easy as I thought. He thought gloomily, while running to keep up with James's hurried steps.

So much for the good first impression.