"No! Please, you can't take me to the Ministry – I can't be-"

"Ah, you have something else to hide from us do you, boy?"

"It's not that!" Harry tried to think of a way to quickly stop this man from bringing him to the awaiting hands of the Ministry, yet he could think of nothing to do as they marched closer and closer to the main entrance of the underground building. Should he tell this man who he was? Harry didn't think so, somehow. It was safest to lie his way out of this once there was a time he could do it. All he needed was a chance to reach for his wand, and then he could be free. He'd escape using force if that was the only way.

"There will be no more excuses given to me," the man declared after becoming restless with how much Harry pleaded not to be taken to the Ministry. "I'm taking you straight to the Department for the Magical Law Enforcement Squad!"

"R-really?" Harry nearly beamed.

The man looked a little startled with Harry's reaction. "You are to answer to the law, boy, there is nothing to be happy about!"

Harry didn't say anything. Is it not true that Kingsley Shacklebolt would be at that exact department right now? If the Battle had ended – which Harry was sure of almost entirely – then anyone that was still alive would have to return to his or her daily jobs… Unless Kingsley was on the run, in which case the department may be searching for him. Whatever the case, there was bound to be at least one face there that Harry would recognised, even if they didn't recognise him.

Harry was far less reluctant in being pulled through the doors to the entrance of the Ministry now. He paid a little bit more attention to his surroundings, and saw that this place at least looked as it always had. He was quietly dwelling on the thought of whether many of the Death Eaters would be dead by now, shorting the risk of him being caught, when he realized something. The fountain bearing the five statues of the Witch, the Wizard, the Goblin, the Elf and the Centaur was still in tact and whole. He stared as the shimmering water cast spots of light across the polished floors and walls like it had in his earliest memories the Ministry. There was no longer the gigantic, frightening sculpture of black stone dominating the scene, no more thrones of twisted and naked Muggles supporting the weight of the Wizards who sat upon them. Most of all, the sentence "Magic is might" was no longer shouted from foot-high letters, poisoning the world into believing in Voldemort's cause slowly but surely. No, all that was left was the pure fountain of golden figures, representing equality in the world.

This was all that Harry's attention was targeted to at this point. It wasn't at all as sickening compared to the stature that he had last seen in this building, but it somehow made Harry feel great anxiety. This again brought up the fact that everyone around him seemed so blankly happy. Perhaps… perhaps the battle had ended, and this was some time after Harry had been nearly killed by Voldemort that night. Perhaps that second chance Dumbledore offered had been given to him anyway. Maybe he had been in a sort of coma for some time, and all had gone back to normal… But for now at least he needed to get away from the Ministry, just in case this wasn't a changed time at all. This man wasn't going to give up seeking revenge for the money Harry tried to steal, even if this really was some time after Harry believed it to be at first.

They walked through the crowd of Ministry workers and visitors until they met the lifts at the far end of the Atrium, the man constantly casting irritated glances down at Harry through his eyepiece. Harry tried again to think of a way of escape if need be, and with this thought they seemed to be quickly heading for the Department for the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. Harry reflected upon the thought that this department seemed a little extreme to bring such an amateur pickpocket such as himself. Yet it wasn't for him to judge, for this man seemed like very proud Wizard in general.

"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement," called the cool female voice in the lift where Harry, the Wizard escorting him and a few other workers were crammed inside, "including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services."

Harry felt himself being dragged by the rich man onto this floor, as he expected, and they made their way down the hallway together in silence. Harry's eyes scanned the corridor as the man continued to cast him very curious and spectacle glances of wonder, for Harry surely ought to be more frightened than he was. They arrived at the Magical Law Enforcement Squad's Department within a few minutes. Harry tried to recognise some faces around him, but no one he knew was here. They walked past the same stall Kingsley should be working in, it seemed, but Harry had no luck in seeing Kingsley anywhere.

"Here we are," the rich man sneered. He knocked upon a door of dark wood at the end of the hall lined with working Aurors.

"Enter," another man called from inside.

The door was opened, and Harry was pulled inside. The room that met his eyes was simple, and much like one would expect for the head of this department. It was floored in soft red carpet, with walls made of wood and a few plants here and there, giving the room a very neat look. There was a desk facing the door where Harry and the rich Wizard stood, and man was sitting at it, a huge window casting light upon the scene behind him. Harry knew the window was probably made my magic, but it looked very real. The man at the desk placed some papers he was reading down, and frowned as he saw the people in front of him. He looked around thirty or forty, but quite accomplished by the way he dressed and sat upon his chair.

"Good morning, Barrett," the man at the desk greeted.

"Louis, I'll need you to look into who this boy is," the rich man, who was evidently called Barrett, demanded.

Louis glanced at Harry for a minute, taking in his appearance. "For what reason? Sit." He indicated the two seats in front of him, and Barrett glared at Harry to follow that order. They both sat.

"I found him attempting robbery in Diagon Alley," Barrett started.

"Then we keep a record on his name and be aware of who he is," Louis said simply. "What's the problem?"

"He has no Identification on him."

"Did you double check?"

"Of course I – do you think me foolish enough not to have?"

"No, not at all," Louis looked at Harry in slight confusion. "Where is your ID?"

Harry tried to say this simply, but he knew they wouldn't understand, considering how seriously they were taking this, "I don't have an ID. I've never had one. I've never even heard of Wizards having them – I thought that was more of a Muggle thing to do."

Harry saw the Wizards exchange chances. "What's your name?" Louis asked.

"Harry Moore," Barrett answered for him.

"Erm… actually, no, my name is Jonathan Smith," Harry lied. He wasn't going to be tied to the name 'Harry' so simply; he needed a very common name. He decided that 'John Smith' would be perfectly good for his case, for though it was an obviously common name, he was guessing that no one here would notice.

Barrett's eyes became slits once more, "So he lies again."

"Most people lie when they're caught by the law, Barrett," Louis reasoned, "it's good to know that Jonathan here at least admitted to the lie unasked."

"Do you know when he said his birth year was?" Barrett replied, trying to make Louis see what kind of person Harry was. "The 31st of July, Nineteen Eighty!"

"Do the math," said Harry in annoyance. "That's seventeen years ago. Easily seventeen years ago!"

Louis cast Barrett a curious glance.

"What?" Harry asked, still impatient.

"Were you in any form of an… accident lately?" Louis asked carefully.

Harry paused. "What would that matter?"

"Could be a memory charm gone wrong," Loud said to Barrett as though confirming some thought they shared.

"Or he could be lying again," Barrett replied, glaring at Harry again.

Louis turned to face Harry. "What is today's date?"

Harry paused, trying to remember. Why wouldn't the Ministry know this already? "May the 2nd, 1998."

There was a silence. "He should be examined."

"What? Why?" Harry asked quickly. Then he must have been in a coma for a while, or something similar. "Why won't you believe me? What's the real date?"

Louis looked uncomfortable for a minute, as though he almost felt pity for the green-eyed boy sitting across from him. "Today is the 27th of August… 1944."

There was a moment's pause where Harry felt like jumping out of his seat and shouting at them all for being wrong, but refrained from doing so. This couldn't possibly be true. Was it some kind of joke? But who would bother to make all those Muggles dressed as if in the 1940s? Who would re-form the Leaky Cauldron, make sure no one Harry recognised was around and even go so far as to put the Ministry back to how it was? Then, very suddenly, a thought came to Harry's mind. If what had happened with Dumbledore just after Voldemort 'killed' him had been real and if he, Harry, had chosen to save that child other than to carry on with the battle waiting for him… but his thoughts went no after this. Then what? What would have happened if that were all real? Would it really make a difference? Why on earth did it put him way back in 1944? None of this was making sense!

"Prove it," Harry said suddenly, before he could withhold this command.

Louis raised his eyebrows a little, before searching in one of the drawers of his desk for something. He soon brought up what was clearly a newspaper, and Harry took it without comment. There, on the top of the paper, was the date clearly marked: 27th August 1944. Harry opened the paper and scanned some random articles to be sure this wasn't a hoax.

"You see? None of us are in year Nineteen Ninety-eight," Barrett scoffed. He directed his next words at Louis. "Send a memo and fetch a worker from St. Mungo's to have a look at him."

"Indeed," Louis searched in another drawer and produced a quill and pre-made memo.

Harry pushed the newspaper away from him slowly as the two other Wizards sat in silence. Maybe this really was 1944… It didn't make any sense what so ever when thinking about how Harry would have gotten here, but it explained a lot. Does that mean that the barman in the pub was the same one he had always known, expect younger now? The fact that Gringotts wasn't swarming with angry Goblins and Ministry workers suggested a change of time. Harry had a horrible thought, for just a minute, that maybe he had gotten into a very bad accident and all his life had so far been a lie, but that really couldn't be true. He remembered everything too well for it all to have been an illusion.

About ten minutes passed where nothing really happened, then a plump little Witch knocked on the door and entered, greeting everyone in the room and chatting briefly before she came to examine Harry. Harry felt rather foolish as she asked him questions about the year he didn't know the answers to, and he was a little concerned when she pulled his new haircut back and looked at his scar for a long while. She knew that the scar held a lot of dark magic, and she told the room that willingly, even going so far as to suggest that this could be the cause of his amnesia.

Harry knew that his scar hadn't caused this (or maybe it had, considering it was related to the attacks Voldemort had made on him) but he said nothing important to the Witch. It had been bleeding not very long before he woke up that day, so she thought it must be a new wound. Harry didn't care about any of her theories as long as he'd be able to get away from the Ministry soon. The Witch, Barrett and Louis talked for a little while with Harry, trying to see the solution to this.

"I don't want to be kept in St. Mungo's," Harry said definitely as the idea was suggested. "I don't know where I want to go yet, but that hospital is not an option, no matter what."

"But if he's in St. Mungo's," Barrett said, "He'll first of all be off the streets, and second of all be fixed by the healers more accurately. We can't allow him to carry on stealing for the rest of his life merely because he doesn't want to go."

"You can't force me to stay there!" Harry retorted. "By law you can't, it's a known fact."

Louis frowned, "How do you know that?"

"I've read about it… I think," Harry replied. "Or the last time I was there one of my friends talked about it."

"But he has a point, you know," replied the little Witch. "We can't force him to stay in the hospital – not if he's able to carry on with his life how he is, and not if that isn't what he wants. If he's able to sustain a life without the help of others, there can be no forcing him to the hospital."

"But where will he go?" Louis asked more as a point than a question. "Do you remember any family or friends of yours, Jonathan?"

"Er… No. I don't remember their names at least," Harry lied.

"Then are you at least sure that Jonathan Smith is your true name?"

"Yes, I'm sure of that."

"We haven't been able to find any records of people who could be you… How old did you say you were again?"

"Erm… Well, my birthday is the 31st of June, and I'm only 17…"

"You just turned 17?"

"Technically." Was that a safer option?

"So you still have one more year of education left to go?"

"I skipped my last year."

"You mean you are going to skip your last year?"

"Well, no… I already did."

"I think he means he was going to," the Witch said.

"Have you been attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"Er… No. No, actually I haven't." It seemed easier that way.

Barrett joined in the conversation, with much enthusiasm this time, "Then to Hogwarts he must go! We cannot keep him at St. Mungo's as the law says, but in the case of this boy having no one to return to, and being under the age limit for leaving school, we have the right to give him a last year of education!" Barrett seemed to of think this as a success in defeating Harry, somehow.

"But I don't want to go back to Hogwarts either," Harry said. There were too many bad memories there, even if they hadn't happened yet, according to the date.

"I think it would be best if you attended the school for a year," Louis said kindly.

"I agree," the Witch added. "They do have rather good Medical care at the school too, so if anything happens to the boy he can be cared for right away."

"But I don't want-"

"It is not a matter of what you want, boy, this is taking into consideration what is good for you," Barrett cut in. "Perhaps after a year of school you'll become less of a scummy street rat and finally begin to respect authority!"

Harry bit back many retorts about having been respectful to authority for too long, but he knew Barrett wouldn't understand whet he meant by that, anyway.

Louis carried on talking, perhaps sensing Harry's wish to say more, "We'll have to send a few owls to Hogwarts to be entirely sure that they can fit a new arrival into their classes and years. Four days won't be too short of a time to do this, but we'll have to make sure everything is sorted as soon as possible. As for trying to find a record of you," he said, directing his words to Harry, "we'll be able to sort it all out in a number of weeks. This is a busy department, but I don't think we'll forget to do anything."

"Right," Harry replied, not really knowing what to say to this. He was glad that he had chosen such a simple name; perhaps they'd mistake some else's file for his own, if he was lucky.

"As for where you will be staying, I think the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley is more that preferable. You'll be able to buy all the school equipment with the money Hogwarts will give you, and then you'll be all set." Louis smiled at the idea of having sorted out the problem.

"Good," Harry replied shortly.

"What about deciding what classes he'll have to take?" asked the Witch. "Will Hogwarts be able to take a student in even this late?"

"I already know all the coursework up to the sixth year," Harry reassured them. "I studied Transfiguration, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions and Herbology."

They all looked rather surprised at this piece of information.

"Er… I remember the subjects, but I only remember reading books about them… I can't remember where I was, and what I was doing it all for."

They didn't ask many questions after this anyway.

"Well, when we write to the school we shall add for them to test Jonathan in all these subjects, just to be sure that he's qualified to keep up with the work," Louis rounded up. "As for right now, Barrett, since you brought the young man here, I suppose it will be you who escorts him out. Drop by Terry on the way down and he'll get some money out for Jonathan to stay at the Inn of the Leaky Cauldron."

And as simply as that Harry found they were all standing up.

"It was nice to meet you, Jonathan," Louis said politely. Harry shook his hand when offered, saying nothing. "I'll get started on this letter to Hogwarts now."

Barrett said goodbye, and walked out of the office with Harry at his heels.

Harry still had no clue what on earth he would do when he arrived at Hogwarts, but this seemed an almost acceptable plan. If this really was 1944, and not some mistake, there was truly nowhere else for him to go. Even if anyone whom he had previously known would accept him into their homes. Perhaps it was better that he was not in year 1998 right now… Maybe he could somehow start a new life, and try to get used to the idea of what he had done. After a year of Hogwarts at least he'd be able to think things through.