A/N: This is when it starts looking like the BTTF plot quite a lot (I love that film) but, for obvious reasons, not everything can be exactly the same. I've stolen quite a lot of lines from the film, just so you know. Please R&R P.S Sorry it took so long, I just started boarding at school and it takes a while to get things together.

Disclaimer: So you see class, that is logical proof of how I own Harry Potter and Back To the Future. What's that Miss Patil? I've never heard of this J.K Rowling of which you speak, do be quiet foolish girl. MR FINNIGAN! Don't make me come back there!

Ahem, I don't own anything ;)

Pasts and Parents

Harry swerved to avoid the thick trunk of a tree that had suddenly appeared in front of him, right where the street of Hogsmeade used to be. Too busy trying to avoid immediate collision to wonder why he was now flying through a forest, Harry swivelled in a complicated pirouette-like movement, barely missing a looming branch.

There was a resounding crunch as the tail of the broom hit something big and leafy Harry had not seen coming.

"Argghhh!" Well, he wasn't so much flying as falling now.

Thrown of balance by a tree clipping the end of the Cleansweep Harry found that he had lost control of the broom. He tried to regain direction to no avail as he now plummeted towards the ground, being flung into the surrounding trunks as he went. With a crack that did not bode well for Harry's already bruised chest, and an even more ominous noise from the broom, they collided with the forest floor.

The world seemed to spin as Harry dragged himself up from off of the ground only to groan at the sight of what was left of the broom, it couldn't have looked worse if the Whomping Willow had been at it. He began to take notice of his surroundings and the last few moments before he had found himself in a forest he did not recognise came back to him. He shuddered at the looming image of the Deatheater's that appeared in his mind's eye, and, knowing it was foolish even as he did so, glanced warily around himself for the masked wizards.

Utterly bewildered, and hoping against all that he was only dreaming, Harry decided that the best he could do was to find out where the hell he was. And as that was seemingly impossible, and Harry didn't know any spells that told you your location, he had to hope he had somehow only strayed a little off course and was not too far from Hogsmeade.

Not really believing this feeble hope, he pulled out his wand, placing it on his hand, and silently thanked Hermione for her help in his fourth year with the third task of the Triwizard Tournament as he muttered "Point Me." The Four-point spell did its job as his wand swivelled on his palm, and Harry knew that North was now to his left, he knew also that Hogsmeade was surrounded on it's north side by mountains and forest. So, assuming this was indeed that forest, he deduced desperately and not entirely surely, that Hogsmeade must be somewhere south of where he was. Setting off with determined mind Harry began to walk through the forest.

The sun was long risen, and Harry had long lost hope, by the time he reached the edge of the forest. He knew the forest did not span such a large area; at least, the one surrounding Hogsmeade never had, meaning he could not be where he had thought he was. However, with no other alternative, he had carried on trudging mindlessly to an unknown destination. The first sign of civilisation greeted him when he stumbled into a small town around lunch time.

It was not until Harry reached the centre of the town that he realised something was terribly wrong. Everyone's robes looked…odd, dated somehow, and if it wasn't for the shop signs and someone walking past reading the Daily Prophet, Harry would have thought he was in a different country. And then he noticed the date on the Prophet the stranger had walked past carrying.

With a growing sense of dread he sprinted bewilderedly up the street and was suddenly faced with a pretty explanatory sight.

--

Harry stood outside Honeyduke's; it was definitely Honeyduke's alright. And the village was definitely Hogsmeade, just the Hogsmeade of 1977. This he was helpfully told by the banner hung above the shop's window reading:

Winner of the 1977 Most Picturesque Wizarding Village Award!

Harry stumbled backwards, horrified. The broom must've taken him back in time, that's why Dumbledore must've left it to him-Why the hell would Dumbledore want to give him a time-travelling Cleansweep? He still felt like this was some far-fetched dream. Deciding he needed a good drink, Harry headed towards the familiar, if slightly newer, Three Broomsticks, still clutching the splinters of the broom.

He shuffled into the pub, feeling himself instinctively relax at the familiar atmosphere, wrong time perhaps, but the same place all the same. He sat down at the bar next to a boy about Harry's age in deep conversation with a much younger Madame Rosmerta. The boy ignored him, and Rosmerta barely glanced up as she handed him a Butterbeer. He took a sip, feeling the warmth seep down to his toes, which, with his aching feet and chest and chilling walk through the early hours of morning, was very welcome. Some things, at least, never changed.

"Why won't she go out with me Rosmerta?" the Hogwarts student sitting next to Harry moaned morosely, and Harry thought suddenly of Ginny. He felt a pang in his chest; he had to get back to her, somehow, as soon as possible-The Deatheaters! Harry had almost forgotten about them! They were still on the loose back in his time, what if they got into the castle? His stomach lurched at the thought of Hermione, Ron and Ginny in danger.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a very familiar voice sneering his name in a very familiar way. "Potter."

He swung around in his seat, only to see-

"Severus?" Harry's dead potion's master was now striding towards him at the age of seventeen. But it was the boy sitting next to Harry that answered. "Well if it isn't Snivellus," Harry was wrenched from the tumult of emotions he felt on sight of the man he had once hated for so long and now only felt pity and (though he would never admit it) admiration for, by the voice behind him and the use of a nick-name that he had heard once in a memory.

Harry turned to see the boy sitting next to him and found himself looking in a mirror, except for his eyes and the lack of scar on his forehead the boy was identical to Harry, from his toes to his unruly jet-black hair. Harry realised with thudding heart he was looking at his father, James Potter.

"Dad?" he breathed, barely daring to believe it, and yet hoping against all hope it was true. This was different to any memory or dream; here Harry could actually reach out and touch him-

Which he had been in the process of trying to do before his father had jumped up off of his stool, wand in hand. "Still moping around after Evans, Potter? You're pathetic; she'd never touch a piece of filth like you." Severus Snape sneered in a tone he had once only reserved especially for Harry.

"I don't see you being particularly friendly with her recently Snivellus," James spat back.

"Call me that again!" Snape snarled pulling out his wand.

"I don't want any trouble boys," Rosmerta said sharply, Severus glanced at her and then back to James' drawn wand, and, seemingly thinking better of it, swept out of the pub. James sat back down with a heavy sigh, Harry gawped at him. James pulled a Butterbeer towards him and took a sip, Harry stared. James placed the drink back down and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up, Harry winced midway through gaping.

James suddenly swung towards him, "Can I help you?" he almost shouted, apparently unaware he was staring at a double of himself. Harry, despite being extremely disconcerted and almost scared out of his wits, felt like grinning, so this was what it was like to have your dad yell at you.

"Y-you're James Potter." He stuttered, still in the throes of amazement.

"Yes, I am, do you have a problem with that too? Because if you do-" James was interrupted from his rant by a crash of shattered glass. Madame Rosmerta had been busying herself behind the bar when she had turned to see the two boys talking to each other and dropped a glass in shock. She was now staring at them in amazement, and although James seemed oblivious of their resemblance Harry guessed that she, too, had noticed him and his father's eerie likeness.

But when Harry turned to see his father's-James'- reaction, he found an empty stool and the sight of the raven-haired boy hurrying down the streets of Hogsmeade through the window.

"Hey! Wait!" Harry called after the quickly receding figure as he jogged after him, wand in pocket, remains of broom in hand and excitement in his heart. He would finally get to meet his father long enough to have decent conversation with him. Harry was determined not to let this opportunity pass.

He lost sight of James as he went through the Hogwarts gates and sped up to catch him, only to find that he couldn't see him anywhere in the grounds. With a frustrated sigh he kicked the ground and wondered how his father had got away from him so quickly. Harry thought he had learned pretty much every of Hogwarts secrets over the years, but his father had somehow eluded him, no doubt with a secret passageway he did not know of.

And then he saw a foot disappearing up into the branches of the big oak tree by the lake. Wondering what on earth his father was doing Harry hurried over. When he arrived at the tree however, all he could see was the faint outline of James sitting among the branches, leaning forward precariously and gazing at something on the other ground the other side of the tree.

Wondering what on earth would make James act so strangely, Harry rounded the trunk to find what he was so fascinated by. Leaning against the tree trunk sat a girl reading a book, her hair was thick and red and reminded Harry painfully of Ginny, and when she shook it off her face he was met with a pair of green almond-shaped eyes, the eyes of Lilly Evans.

Her face immediately twisted into a frown when she saw him, and she snapped her book shut in a very Hermione-ish gesture. "What do you want, Potter?" she glared at Harry, "Because if it has nothing to do with Head duties you can go and-" She was cut short from reprimanding a stunned Harry when they heard the ominous cracking of a branch above. Working on long-honed instincts and reflexes Harry leapt forward, pushing his mother out the way as James and the branch fell painfully on top of him.

James swore loudly, "Are you alright?"

"Don't be an idiot!" Harry could hear Lilly snapping back through a fog of pain and a bleeding nose, his glasses had smashed and everything was blurred. "Of course he's not alright, he's bleeding! And you've broken his glasses, oh, for Merlin's sakes, I thought he was you! What the hell were you doing up in that tree?"

Harry wriggled out from underneath the branch, imagining the shifty look now passing across his father's features, "I…er…I was just-" James struggled with an explanation. Harry listened to his parents argue.

"Well, that doesn't matter now!" Lilly interrupted him, "I'll take him to the hospital wing." Harry, who had had a lot worse, felt a little stupid having to go to the Hospital wing over something like a nosebleed. "No, it's fine, really." He muttered, as he tried regain some dignity and pulled out his wand, "Accio glasses!" he quickly repaired them and pushed them back onto his nose, getting a clear view of Lilly looking horrified and James, as he had imagined, rather shifty.

"Look, I'm really sorry, it was an accident…" Lilly rounded on him, "Shut up! And stay here." She pulled Harry to his feet and bit her lip at the sight of all the blood. Harry tried to look a little less horrifying, and tilted his head back pinching his nose to try and make the bleeding stop.

"At least come and sit in the common room, you are in Gryffindor aren't you?" Harry nodded weakly, his nose throbbing as his mother led him up into the school.

--

"Really, it's fine, look, the bleeding's stopped now." Harry tried to reassure Lilly, who was looking as anxious as Hermione as she steered him into an armchair. Harry muttered "Scourgify," and cleaned up his face as Lilly sat down next to him.

"I feel so bad that you got hurt saving me from that oaf, Potter." Harry could feel it making her slightly uncomfortable, but he couldn't stop staring at her, she was his mother, Lilly, young and vibrant and full of life…

She leant forward and he, not even realising it, leant in closer to her, he could smell her perfume and it stirred up distant memories of something. He smiled at her and she grinned back as he took in her features hungrily, unable to quite get over the fact that she was there, sitting right in front of him. "I…wanted to thank you," she grinned again shyly, "For-saving me, not everyone would have done that.

At this Harry couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh. That was him, Harry Potter with his infamous hero complex and his mother had picked up on it right away, he kind of liked that, like she already knew him. He found that she was blushing and looking at him with a curious look in her eyes. "I'm sorry; I didn't even catch your name."

Harry shifted uncomfortably and suddenly reality came crashing back down on him. He was in the past, Deatheaters were on the loose back in his time, he had to get back, he had to get back to Ginny and Ron and Hermione, they needed him, he needed to be around to save them…

Hero complex or not, Harry was working in overdrive, he jumped up, running a hand anxiously through his hair, "Is Dumbledore's office still in the same place?" he shot at Lilly who looked startled at this sudden outburst. "Yes, same place it always is," she answered, staring as he turned and sprinted back out the portrait hole.

--

The gargoyle was there, ugly and waiting as usual, and on this thought Harry hesitated, the last time he had been here he had been walking into Professor McGonagall's office, not that of the man who had been Harry's mentor and guide through the years, Albus Dumbledore. Now at the idea of meeting him again Harry wasn't sure he would be able to cope, sure he was happy that he was alive, that he could spend even a couple more hours with him, but he knew that the emotional repercussions might be something he would deeply regret. But knowing that Dumbledore was probably the only person in this time who could help him, the only person who could possibly believe his story, forced him to step forward and start guessing passwords.

On the muttering of 'fizzing whizbee' the gargoyle jumped out the way and Harry stepped onto the ascending staircase, heart thudding for what seemed like the hundredth time in two days as he prepared to knock at the door. As it was, Harry didn't even have time to take a breath before a voice answered as his knuckles made contact with wood. Harry's heart leapt when he heard the voice that he hadn't heard in a year and a half: "Enter."

"Ah, James, I would've thought that you'd be out in Hogsmeade with your friends at this time, something quite momentous must be bothering you if you're taking your time to visit me."

Harry walked up to the twinkling blue eyes, looked directly into them, and blurted it out. "I'm not James."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows fractionally, "Is that so?"

"Yes, my name-my name is Harry," said Harry, aware of how odd it was that Dumbledore of all people didn't know his name. The old wizard cleared his throat,

"If that is the case, I must apologise, you do bear a striking resemblance to a student here named James Potter, so you must forgive me my mistake. Perhaps you are a relative of his?" Dumbledore's eyes glanced over Harry, his messy hair, his slight seeker's build, they hesitated on his eyes and then lingered, the brow above them furrowing slightly, on the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Yes, we're definitely related," explained Harry, skirting around the subject, preparing Dumbledore for the blow he was about to deal. "You see, I'm his son."

At this Dumbledore could not hide his surprise, and his white eyebrows shot up. "Young man, you can't be more than nineteen, James Potter is, I believe, eighteen himself in a couple of months, what you're suggesting is quite impossible."

Harry nodded, "I know that, but," he hesitated, how to put this without sounding insane? There wasn't, he decided, "I came here on a time-travelling broom that you gave me."

As if this ridiculous statement was a cry for interruption, a knocking came from the door. Dumbledore stated admittance and James stumbled in, breathing heavily and looking very ruffled. He saw Harry, eyes darting between him and Dumbledore,

"So it is true!" Harry shuffled back as James advanced, looking distinctly annoyed, "Longbottom told me you were going to the Head's office," he turned to Dumbledore, who was watching the scene with something vaguely like bemusement,

"Professor Dumbledore, whatever he tells you, it was an accident, the branch snapped, I fell on him, I didn't mean to give him a nosebleed-"

"Mr Potter," Dumbledore began, and looked almost amused when both raven-haired boys turned to answer, "James, I am not aware of the incident you are referring to, and I assure you, Harry here had not come to tell me about it, but rather to divulge some other business he has with me."

James looked rather abashed, "Oh, err, sorry, I thought you were going to give me another detention, and you see, the match is coming up, I can't miss practice…" he trailed away and also began backing away slowly towards the door. Dumbledore smiled, "I wonder if you could wait outside until I've finished with Harry?" James nodded and practically ran out the door.

Dumbledore arched his fingers gravely, "If, young man, or Harry as you call yourself, you truly believe you time-travelled here I must suggest I let James take you to the Hospital Wing. You must have hit you're head when Mr Potter fell on you."

Harry understood, Dumbledore was trying to tell him very kindly that he thought he was deluded. He had been expecting this, and knew there was only a few ways he could prove that his story was true. Harry took a deep breath and began reciting things off the top of his head, "Your brother owns the Hogshead, you'll never forgive yourself for the death of your sister and you were the only teacher who didn't trust Tom Riddle when he went to school here, who later began to call himself Lord Voldemort."

Dumbledore was very solemn and his eyes had become serious. "There are very few people on this earth, let alone a student, who know these things. There are very few people of your age who feel prepared to speak the name of that particular dark wizard, and even fewer who know his original name that his mother gave him. I must conclude that either you are Deatheater in disguise sent by Lord Voldemort or that your story is indeed true."

Harry smiled in relief, "You have to help me get back, you left-gave-me the broom, you must know how it works, you see, just before I left these Deatheater's attacked me in Hogsmeade which means they're somewhere on the loose, my friends are in danger, I have to get back and warn them."

Dumbledore was looking at him oddly, "I take the mention of Deatheater's to mean that this war stretches to your time, and that Voldemort is still at large." He sounded sorrowful and Harry stumbled, it had not occurred to that this was what the Dumbledore of Voldemort-filled 1977, would've assumed.

"No, no, after he loses all his powers, and then comes back I-"

"Stop, Harry, if you have indeed arrived here via time-travel I must insist you divulge no more of the future."

Harry stared at him "But if I tell you, you can defeat Voldemort and none of it has to happen," he started with dawning hope as he realised what this meant, no-one had to die, Fred, Tonks, Remus and Sirius, Dobby, Cedric and Dumbledore and his parents… "We can save them all, you just-"

"Stop Harry," Dumbledore ordered firmly, he was looking at Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles with a mixture of pity and pain, "We cannot tamper with time, however things happened, happened that way for a reason, to alter the course of time means altering the future, and we do not know what events such an act would cause. It is too dangerous, we are dealing with things even I cannot understand."

At this Harry felt the deep plummet of disappointment, but however much he had doubted Dumbledore in his year on the run, the force of his trust in the professor was now doubled. Harry had lost all resentment for Dumbledore when he had defeated Voldemort, and come to understand things that had long been beyond his grasp.

"Yes, Professor." Harry mumbled into his lap and looked away.

"I'm sorry Harry, I truly am, we all wish that we could turn back time and change the things we regret." Harry saw the remorse in the blue eyes and knew that Dumbledore meant this more than most people.

"Now, then, I think it is best, that you show me this broom you travelled here on, that I apparently gave you?" Harry nodded and then clapped his hand to his forehead.

"Oh no! I left the remains of it back at the lake, I dropped them to save my moth-I mean, Lilly from getting hit by the branch and James."

Dumbledore peered at him shrewdly, "Am I to assume that you have met both your parents already?" Harry nodded yet again, this time embarrassed that he had covered it up so feebly.

"Ah, I thought I recognised some of your features from somewhere. You have your-"

"-mother's eyes, I know." Harry finished, now all too aware of the truth in these words. Dumbledore smiled, "I assume you have people telling you that frequently."

Harry nodded and thought of the many people who had noticed the resemblance over the years, one of them had been Remus, he remembered sadly. He was snapped back from his sorrowful reminiscing by Dumbledore standing up with a sweeping of his robes. "Now, if we shall get back to business, there seems to be a time-travelling broom in the grounds and I wouldn't want any of my current students from straying into the effects its magic.

Harry shrugged, "I wouldn't expect it's much use now, when I arrived here I had a bumpy landing, it's almost completely broken to bits."

Dumbledore tugged lightly on his beard in thought, "That might prove a problem, however, it is perhaps wise if we collect the remains of the broom anyway."

But when they got to the bottom of the staircase James was there waiting for them with an anxious and puzzled look on his face. "Ah, James, I'm sorry for the inconvenience but it appears we are no longer in need of your services, do go join your friends." James stared at the pair, stunned, as they walked past and descended the steps towards the great hall and the front doors of the school. He was left wondering what on earth that had been about, what pressing business the black-haired boy could have with Dumbledore and why the boy seemed so at ease with a rather intimidating not to mention world-renowned wizard he had only just met.

A/N: Mwahahaha! Next chapter we get to see some great Harry/ Marauder interaction, not to mention maybe some…erm…interesting moments with Lily, when I get to wreak a little havoc.

Writing the Harry/Dumbledore stuff was quite hard, you have to remember that Dumbledore has absolutely no idea Harry is boy wonder of the world or his mentor in the future.

I will also probably write a few scenes where Harry will get show off how cool he is!! Not that he would ever think that…just me…R&R, peace out and HARRY RULES!! :)