The first thing Harry noticed after he was no longer dizzy was that the trees in the forest around him where somewhat smaller. The forest was still looming and large, but he could notice the difference in 80 years of growth. Harry made sure that his invisibility cloak was firmly around his shoulders, keenly aware that his 2002 clothes would be out of place in 1922.
Harry slipped into Hogsmeade and entered the all purpose store that was there. He found the men's clothes and slipped into the back to put them on. They were more uncomfortable than he was really used to. Slacks instead of jeans, a button down shirt instead of a t-shirt, suspenders to keep the pants up. He was used to the tie due to years of his Hogwarts uniform, and was relieved to see that normal robes hadn't been too different 80 years into the past. The most irritating change were the shiny dress shoes instead of comfortable sneakers. Harry emerged from the back, taking off the cloak, and gathered up more outfits for himself before heading up to the counter to pay.
Harry was stopped in his tracks though when he saw the person working at the counter. The girl was wearing a sleeveless dress with a very low waist and the skirt had tassels that would sway at the slightest motion. Her hair was short and curly, but still managed to be feminine. The thing that had first drawn his notice though was the fact that her hair was startlingly red. Redheads always got his full attention, partly because they reminded him of Ginny. The other part, he hypothesized, was that it was genetic. The one picture he'd seen of his paternal grandparents had been of a man with messy black hair with a redheaded woman.
"Hello miss," He said uncertainly, and she looked up from the magazine she was browsing.
"Well how'd you get in here without my noticing? Oh, I should have been helping you!" She looked flustered, and Harry wanted to calm her down.
"I was very quiet, and I knew exactly what I needed. I just want to purchase these things," Harry placed his armload of clothing down on the counter.
The girl took out her wand and waved it at the pile, and it reformed into folded piles by type of clothing.
"You're buying an awful lot Mr—Actually, I'm afraid I don't recognize you."
Harry debated saying Harry Black, but remembered how the Black's took such painstaking care to keep track of their magical family tree, and didn't think it was a good idea.
"Harry Potter," He responded at last. He didn't know anything about his ancestors in this generation, but figured that Potter might be a common enough name to pass.
"Are you from America?" She asked him, "Your accent is odd."
Harry saw the opening and immediately accepted it, "I am. I just got here, but my luggage got lost…" Harry trailed off, unsure how travel would work in this time, whether magical or muggle.
"Oh dear, that's awful!" The girl exclaimed as she started wrapping the piles in tissue paper and tying them with twine.
"I don't think I caught your name," Harry said, trying to smile charmingly.
"I'm Rose Prewett," She answered with a matching smile.
Harry ran through his memory, trying to figure out why Prewett sounded familiar. He finally remembered that Mrs. Weasley was a Prewett, and decided it made a lot of sense, with the red hair. Also explained why Rose reminded him of Ginny more than most redheads.
"Rose, that's a beautiful name. My mother's name was Lily. Flower's make perfect names for beautiful women."
Rose blushed, "Thank you Mr. Potter."
"It's Harry," He said automatically. "I'm looking for a place to stay, do you know if there are any flats around the area for rent, or should I try London instead?"
"I'd say it's your lucky day, except you already lost your luggage, so maybe it's just balancing out. My boss is looking for someone to rent the space up above the store. His son lived there for a while, but recently got married and moved out into a bigger space. It's set up for one with furniture included."
Harry stared at her in amazement. "I'll take it."
Rose laughed, "You'll have to talk to Mr. DeRewel. He'll be here in about an hour."
Harry nodded, "I'll be back in an hour then. May I leave these packages here until then?"
Rose nodded, and Harry turned and left for Hogwarts. He was looking for one man in particular, and hoped that he could find him with little trouble.
Students were out of class for the day, but it was not yet time for them to be eating in the great hall. Harry headed through the building to the office of the transfiguration professor.
"Professor Dumbledore?" He asked as he stood on the edge of the room.
"Yes?" The man looked up, and Harry was stunned by the difference in the man. His hair was completely auburn, and his beard was much shorter. Harry was rather surprised to see that Dumbledore was quite a striking man, although his extravagant robes added to that impression. Harry did some quick math and figured that Dumbledore must be about eighty, although he didn't look like he was a day over fifty.
"Hello sir, I'm Henry Potter, but I go by Harry," Harry replied, suddenly glad that he had spent so much time looking into his name before deciding on plain, albeit easy to figure out, Harold Black. Now Henry Potter called Harry seemed fitting.
"Henry, army leader, I think I'll call you General," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling.
Harry was glad to see the lighthearted Dumbledore that he could remember talking about things like socks and tenpin bowling.
"What was it you needed?" Dumbledore asked, pushing away the pile of parchments he'd apparently been grading.
"I've heard a lot about you sir, and I think you are someone to respect and trust. I was wondering if you could help me with a goal of mine?" Harry hoped that he didn't sound to presumptuous, or too strange.
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, and the sparkle disappeared, "It depends on your goal. I've been asked to forward goals recently that I do not approve of."
Harry took a deep breath before launching into his idea, "I want to help muggleborn students who might be mistreated by parents or guardians because of the accidental magic that they perform. I know that there are sometimes cases where a child is treated abominably because of their condition. Also, I'd want to help the pureblood squibs that are often cast out of the family and into orphanages. And lastly, mistreated pureblood children. Some purebloods are very violent towards their children, and in the end it just perpetuates a cycle of more violence."
Dumbledore stared at Harry a second, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide, "Well, you're the first pleasant surprise I've had in a while young man. Sit down, and we'll talk about this."
Harry sat down, but shrugged, "There's not much more to say."
"How would you find these children?" Dumbledore asked first.
"The pureblood squibs would be easiest. There are records kept of births. Any time where a pureblood declared a death of a child we'd need to discreetly look into it, discover if there were orphanages in the area that gained a child, and take them out of there. Perhaps into willing homes of magical families that don't regard squibs as mistakes, if not, perhaps there'd be a need to set up a magical orphanage."
Dumbledore nodded, "Both options are viable. Possibly even adoption of squibs would work for non-magical siblings of magical people. It would be a person who would understand the world that the child had come from, but wouldn't be displaying powers, so the child would not feel out of place."
Harry nodded with a smile, he had known that Dumbledore would have positive ideas of input.
"And how do you plan to find abused muggle borns?" Dumbledore asked him intently.
Harry sighed, "As I understand it, there is a book that is charmed to monitor across England, Ireland, and Scotland for the first signs of accidental magic in children, the book then records who they are. I would ask for access to that book, so that whenever a child first experiences magic their location and blood status can be determined. Someone would go to the parents of muggleborn students. They would explain to them that the children are exhibiting a gift, not something evil. If the parents appear to react negatively to this news we would moniter them shortly. If there is violence we would start to take legal actions to have them removed from the environment, once again either into families willing to adopt, or into a magical orphanage. Pureblood's would need to be watched when their children are young, probably from around the age when they were first able to walk. House elves could be a big aid in this, if we can convince them to tell us if their master is hurting the children."
"You appear to have really thought this through," Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, "There is no book that you speak of, until now we have actually depended upon the Christian church to find muggleborn students. Parents often think that their child is possessed or that there are poltergeists in their house. Other times magical people will observe a child exhibiting magic in public and will alert us. But this book you speak of sounds interesting, and possible, and indeed very helpful. I'll need to talk to Excantar, he is the expert in charms, if anyone can charm a book to be as omniscient as the one you described, he'd be the one."
Harry nodded, unsure who this Excantar was, but going along with it, "How can I come in contact with you while I see if that can be done?" Dumbledore asked him.
"I'm looking into living in Hogsmeade," Harry replied, "So I'll be close by."
Dumbledore nodded to him thoughtfully, "Why are you doing this, if you don't mind me asking?"
Harry hastily occluded his mind, he knew that around a legilimens of any level his intense emotional memories could sometimes jump out at them, and he didn't want to have to explain about being from the future. "My guardians considered me a freak because of the magic that was in my nature. They were cruel to me, but rarely got physical. Unfortunately I know that for others it can become all too physical. I would prevent that for anyone."
"An admirable quest General," Dumbledore was serious, but the tone was light with the use of his rather abruptly given nickname. He smiled at Harry, "Admirable indeed. But, I regret that I must return to grading student's essays. I hope to speak to you soon."
"So do I," Harry said, rising from his seat to shake Dumbledore's hand firmly. He departed the classroom with a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.
Harry discovered soon that Hogsmeade in 1922 was not very exciting. During the daytime people either worked in the stores or were off at work elsewhere. Women would do the necessary shopping, but it wasn't really excitement. With no television to watch Harry found himself reading a lot, especially as he tried to acclimate to the past.
Harry glanced up from reading Ulysses, the newest book on the shelves in Hogsmeade, and noticed that he was running late. He entered the small kitchen in his flat and started to put together sandwiches, since it was too late for him to actually cook something more complex. Harry hurriedly arranged them on plates with some of the potato salad he'd made earlier that week, and hurried out of the flat.
"I wondered when you were coming," Rose said as the door towards the back opened up for him. "You're spoiling me you know. I should expect you to be waiting on me hand and foot."
"It's no problem," Harry shrugged nonchalantly; "I look forward to your company. My days are pretty uneventful right now, and lunch is one of the bright spots."
They both fell into silence as they started to eat their lunch. Rose looked up from the plate to see Harry's eyes upon her, "Why do you sometimes look at me like that?"
"What? Like what?" Harry asked, unaware that he'd been doing anything.
"It's almost sad," Rose explained, "And very far away."
Harry nodded after her explanation, "You remind me of someone, I think about her sometimes when I'm around her."
"Who was she?" Rose questioned.
"Ginny. My first love," Harry said softly.
"What happened?"
"I—I was in danger for a while, and I was scared that she would get hurt, so I pushed her away."
"Well, if you still feel for her, why don't you try again?" Rose asked, but something about the tone of her voice implied that she didn't like what she was suggesting.
Harry weighed his choice of words carefully, because he didn't like lying any more than he had to. "She is not alive," He decided it would do. Rose assumed that he meant she was dead, when it reality he meant that she wasn't yet alive.
"I'm so sorry," Rose said awkwardly.
Harry sighed, "There should be a better word in the English language, you know that? It's not your fault, you shouldn't apologize. I understand it in the way you meant it, and I appreciate it."
"What was she like?" Rose asked, "Why do I remind you of her?"
Harry smiled, "Well, first off, she had red hair. The physical resemblance pretty much changes there though. She had brown eyes instead of blue, her hair was much longer than yours, and she was shorter than you are. It's little things really. When you laugh it reminds me of the way Ginny would laugh with me at some caper that her brothers pulled. When you get upset it reminds me of Ginny's ferocious temper. She was a Gryffindor, and probably one of the most Gryffindorish Gryffindors you'd ever come across."
"Gryffindorish?" Rose giggled.
Harry mock glared at her, "I've been reading very much lately, I think I've earned the privilege of being allowed to invent my own words."
"Aye-aye General," Rose mock saluted Harry as she tried to keep her face straight. Dumbledore had come down to Hogsmeade a few times, and Rose had picked up on his nickname for Harry.
Harry laughed and shook his head, "OK, you've asked me personal questions today, it's my turn. Why are you working here? I thought the Prewetts were one of the old Blueblood wizarding families of Britain. Shouldn't you be off in a mansion hosting parties and such?"
Rose glared at Harry a moment, "My family is pureblooded, and old. But we're not much like the other pureblooded families, with the exception of my brother Aurelius. He's as bad as the Malfoys and Blacks. He doesn't really speak with Father or the rest of us. We aren't a rich pureblood family. Father works at the Ministry, part of the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats. It is a prestigious position, but it doesn't exactly pay well. My parents can't afford to support their children when they're out on their own. I have two brothers and three sisters. When I finished school I had two choices. Either marry someone and depend on them for money or be independent. I chose to be independent because I hadn't met anyone that I loved enough to marry. Most of my year mates thought that I was nuts for caring about that, but most of them either had someone that they loved, or were interested in marrying for money. There are a couple other girls like me who are working, mostly as secretaries at the ministry."
Harry nodded, he could see how the Prewett family could turn out an incredible woman like Molly Weasley.
Rose had to get up and help a customer, and Harry watched her as she crossed the room towards the woman shopping there. Rose was his first friend here in 1922, and after the two months he'd been there she was the only person his age he'd come in contact with. She was actually a bit younger than him at nineteen, and was suffering from the same isolation he was. Hogsmeade was filled with older adults, people who already had established families and their younger children.
Harry was still getting used to the younger Dumbledore. Still a man that he could look up to, but not quite the all-powerful man that Harry had known while in school. He was now someone that Harry counted more as a friend than as a mentor, even with the large age gap between them.
Harry and Rose finished their lunch without any more customer interruptions, and it was normal. Their light banter and laughter echoed around the store, making it a somewhat lighter place. Roses lunch hour ended, and Harry began to gather up the plates to go back upstairs and clean and read some more.
"Harry, wait," Rose said, blushing a bit, "I—I hope I'm not being too forward, but, maybe we could go out sometime. Maybe go to dinner at the Three Broomsticks?"
Harry stared at her in amazement. He was fairly certain that she was asking him to go out on a date. His first instinct was to say no. She was an ancestor of Ginny, the girl he had first loved. But before he could do anything his mouth worked on its own account, "I'd love to Rose."
"Great, maybe Friday?" Rose suggested, blushing even harder.
"Friday sounds perfect." Harry found himself smiling as he headed up the stairs. He had planned so much, but it was still the unexpected that was the best.