Mafalda Hopkirk had worked in the Ministry of Magic for a long time – but never before had she been so worried. A few hours ago, the use of multiple conjurations and a sorting charm had been detected in the residence of one Harry James Potter, age eleven years and eleven months, and Mafalda had gone to send a letter – but then came the notification that he had apparated, with a passenger. Near-twelve year olds couldn't apparate, let alone with another person.

So Mafalda came to the conclusion that Harry James Potter had been taken, and whether his abductor was benevolent or not, it was cause for her to rush to the Auror Department to inform someone.

As she concluded her short tale, Amelia Bones – Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, otherwise known as the DMLE – pursed her lips, before tapping her wand against a stone on her desk. A few seconds later, the door to her office opened and half a dozen Aurors appeared.

"Go to Number Four, Privet Drive, of Little Whinging, Surrey. We have reason to believe Harry Potter has been kidnapped by an unknown adult witch or wizard, using apparation. Miss Hopkirk detected the use of magic in his home-"

"Seven conjurations and a sorting charm," she interjected.

"-before detecting a side-along apparation. Logic suggests, as a young boy who is barely even twelve cannot apparate, he has been taken. You will split into three teams – one to inform his family of his disappearance and ask questions, searching his room, etcetera; one to follow the apparation trail without interfering with the first team, and locating Mr Potter if possible; and the final team to inform whoever Harry Potter's magical guardian is. This third team will go to the Hall of Records to find this out, and if one isn't listed, return here with the appropriate forms so the Ministry can claim guardianship." She looked them all over with a stern glare. "This affair is to be kept quiet until we have made sure that either Harry Potter is safe, or we cannot locate him. Understood?"

"Yes Madam Bones," they all replied in various timbres, before hurrying out of the door. Mafalda swallowed, watching them go, before Amelia captured her attention.

"Mafalda, you should get back to work – we'll find him. You don't worry about Mr Potter."

Mafalda gave a nervous nod, standing, "Of course, I'll go back to my office – probably already got a backlog." She bit her lip, before scurrying out of the room. She hoped the Boy-Who-Lived would be okay.


"Jessie?"

The older Potter looked over at his younger counterpart, who was face-down on the Leaky Cauldron's bed. "Yeah?"

"Do you think you'll be able to get back to your own time?"

Harry- Jessie, I'm Jessie now, breathed in deeply, thinking on the matter. The pit in his stomach was deep, when it came to that matter. His wand was gone, and he had no way to know if the Department of Mysteries would help him. Truthfully, he found it unlikely, but he nodded anyway.

"Sure, I'll figure out something. If I can't though, the least I can do is make your life better than mine – I've got a good idea what's coming, after all."

The younger Harry's next words were muffled, so Jessie didn't catch them. "Huh?"

Harry turned his head, so his cheek was on the mattress, dark emerald eyes averted as he spoke. "I don't want you to go. You've already made things a whole lot better. You got me out of the Dursley's."

Jessie looked to the young boy. "Hey, it's nothing, really. I'm you, remember?"

"No you aren't."

There was a pause.

"You're not me. You're older – you're Harry Potter, whose finished school and can do heaps of magic and have done stuff that- I don't even know." Harry met his gaze, shuffling forwards. "I'm Just Harry. You're Harry Potter."

Jessie – embrace the name, embrace the name – swallowed at his words, understanding what he meant, but disagreeing. "I'm Jessie now. You're Harry. I know it seems difficult, but you are going to grow up eventually. Things will happen, hopefully differently to the way they happened to me, and you're going to see it all. Everyone changes, Harry – you already have. You faced Quirrell without even flinching, and that takes courage – courage that I don't think I have anymore." He looked at the ceiling, trying to burn the image of Voldemort's body from his mind. He was just so tired – and the prospect of potentially facing him again, living through a war that he thought had ended for good…

"No."

Jessie looked to Harry. "'No'?" The preteen was looking at him with angry eyes.

"You could face Quirrell any day. I nearly died – you could have defeated him easily! Every time you do magic, I can see it. You're brilliant," a smile tugged at his lips, "and maybe I'll be too, in the future. Right now I'm twelve. You're how old?"

"Nineteen," Jessie admitted, playing with a leather bracelet around his wrist. Luna had given it to him after her trip to Norway – where she'd migrated after realising her Crumple-Horned Snorkacks had migrated from Denmark, after moving there from Sweden. It was a dark brown, braided, with tiny stone beads with little runes…

Runes that were glowing gold?

Jessie frowned, sitting up on the bed, bringing his wrist up to his face. Harry sat up too, peering at it.

"What's that?"

"Gift from a friend…she's coming to Hogwarts this year, Luna…amazing girl, brilliant, one of the best friends I have…" he muttered, twisting the band so he could see it better, but his sight betrayed him. He adjusted his spectacles. "I seriously need new glasses." Just then though, the runes suddenly brightened-

And then there was a body falling on his, making him yelp as he was elbowed and smashed in the face with a shoulder. Scrambling, he untangled himself from the body, looking up to see a feminine face surrounded by wet, shoulder-length hair the colour of fire, wide hazel eyes whizzing around, flicking between him and Harry, before her arms – bony but muscled – came up to cover a small bust, other hand grabbing at the sheets of the bed.

"Where am I? What happened? Where's Sirius? Who are you?"

Jessie, eyes wide, got off the bed, taking off his zip-up hoodie and holding it out, the girl snatching it and putting it on – Jessie noticing at last minute her other hand patting the space where a wand-holster traditionally set. Harry's wand appeared in his hand, slipping out from his own conjured holster just as the girl seemed to notice her own wand's absence. Her eyes zeroed in on the wand.

"Hey, give me that!"

"Why should I?" He asked tightly, "You just appeared out of nowhere-"

"It's my wand! Give it back!" She went to lunge forward, only for Harry to speak up.

"No it's not – it's mine. He's borrowing it until he gets his own."

The girl paused, looking to him, "Who are you?"

"Harry Potter, and this is my older self, but I call him Jessie. Leave him alone." Said older counterpart breathed in heavily, inwardly thanking Merlin that he was that quick-witted as a kid – it could have been a lot worse.

The girl blinked at his words, looking between them as she got off the bed, pulling the sheets with her to hide her long legs. "Potter? You're both…Harry Potter?" Suddenly Jessie had a sinking feeling, wand lowering as he stared at her.

"Fuck – you're a girl. You're us – as a girl!" He stared at their female counterpart – female! – eyes sweeping over her. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen," she answered in a fearful voice, before Jessie remembered what she said. Where's Sirius? He swallowed.

"You ran through the veil. Remus didn't hold on tight enough." She didn't answer, proving he was correct. "I assume you've got the same history as me then, up until then at least – Quirrell, the Chamber, Sirius, the Tournament-"

"-Umbitch," she finished, cringing. "So, what is this? How does this keep happening?"

Jessie gave a heavy sigh, before rubbing his eyes, only to notice something. "Where's your scar?"

"Scar?" She questioned, eyes flickering to his forehead, then to Harry's. "Oh, you have yours on your head…" she brought a shaky hand to the collar of his jumper, pulling it down to show her clavicle, where a scar laid – but instead of a lightning bolt, it was a weird, trident-like Y with another little line in the middle of the small v.

"It's Algiz, an Elder Futhark rune. It symbolises defence, protection, warding off evil, a guardian, a shield, and when applied to a person, means they should always follow their instincts, because the Gods guide them." Jessie blinked. She shrugged lightly. "I took Ancient Runes. I suppose you didn't."

"Care and Divination," he replied, "Ron said it was an easy O." She rolled her eyes.

"Of course. I'm lucky enough to be a girl then – I followed Hermione into Ancient Runes instead of Divination. Still took Care, but I did Arithmancy too. I was sensible," she mocked with a slight smile. He rolled his eyes. She then held out her hand awkwardly. "Rhys. Rhys Severa Potter."

He took her hand, "Jessie. Jessie Potter. Don't have a middle name as of yet." Rhys smiled awkwardly, prompting him to clear his throat. "Would you like me to conjure you some clothes or something?"

"That'd be nice," she agreed, giving Jessie leave to raise Harry's wand, conjuring a white summer dress beneath the jumper, and a belt around her waist. She let go of the blanket to look herself over. "Change the colour to red." Lip twitching, he changed it the Gryffindor red, leaving her smiling, before she unzipped the jumper so he could further tweak it to her specifications. Eventually the dress was changed enough that she was happy with it, so she got on the bed, grinning at young Harry as she hugged him. He blinked in confusion, before hugging her back lightly.

"Hi…?"

Rhys pulled away, "Lovely to meet you, Harry. I'm sure you'll be like a little brother I never wanted," she winked at him, ruffling his hair before flopping onto the bed beside him. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to sleep. It's been a long day." She didn't hesitate before stuffing her head in Jessie's pillow, leaving Harry and his older self to stare at her.

Talk about having a big evening.