I do NOT own Harry Potter and it's characters.


The group of time travelers crept down a long and forlorn hall, right out of the library. Sunlight fell in, illuminating their path, dust particles lazily floating in the air. Harry turned and opened a large oak door hidden in the shadows. The group entered into a large reception area, one by one. Harry had been the one to propose that they visit the headmaster first, to prevent confusion. A pristine looking witch shuffling papers looked up. "You're here to see the headmaster, I suppose," she said sternly, laying the stack of papers in front of her and taking a quill out.

"Yes ma'am," replied Harry.

The witch wrote something down and motioned to an even larger oak door with medieval engravings carved into it. "Go in. You're lucky he isn't busy at the moment." Neville nodded anxiously.

Draco had stopped behind them all. "You can go tell your lies," seethed Draco. "I'm going to stay here and relax. My feet are sore."

"Well, how do you think our feet are feeling at the moment?" asked Hermione exasperatedly.

Draco lounged on a large brown couch in the corner of the reception area and conjured up a Quidditch magazine. "My feet hurt. I need to lay down. End of story."

"Just ignore him Hermione," asserted Harry. "He's too much of a full grown brat to understand important circumstances."

Draco glared at the magazine, fingers tightening on the pages.

Harry, Hermione, and Neville approached the door. Harry pushed it open and they all slowly walked in. There, seated at a mahogany desk, was the headmaster. Harry panicked, seeing that the headmaster was not Dumbledore, and asked Hermione quickly, "What was his name?"

"Armando Dippet," Hermione replied. Dippet had looked up from his desk. A large smiled formed on his face and he brought out his hand. "Hello, my students," he boomed. "What brings you here today?"

Harry shook the man's hand and replied, forcing himself to put on his most believable face, "We're from the future, Dippet." Hermione felt Neville shudder violently, obviously not taking the stress too well.

Dippet's face fell in confusion. "What do you mean, my lad?"

"We all time traveled here…year 1944…for a project on life back in the 40's. We're from the year 1963."

Dippet blinked and stared down at his desk. He sat still for a few seconds and then raised his head. "With a-a..time turner, yes?"

"You're right sir."

Dippet bit his lip. "But there are laws prohibiting the use of the Time Turner. Why would your History class make you go back in time if it is against the ministry's wishes?"

Hermione replied back lightly, "Sir, the ban was taken off 1958. The Ministry ruled that the Time Turner could be used. Actually, my group here is the first to test it out…in a school setting."

Dippet, now consoled, smiled, the worry etching off his face. "I still can't believe it, though. How is the ministry to be sure you're not to change the future?"

Harry answered, "We just can't give out much information." Which worked perfectly, so he and Hermione wouldn't have to lie much.

Dippet was now cheerful. He clapped his hands in amazement and declared, "Are you going to announce yourselves at dinner in front of the school? Yes? Of course, you will."

Dippet handed the three time travelers mints and leaned back in his chair. "Care to tell me your names?" he asked, peering at them from under his eyes.

Before Harry could say, "What?", Hermione motioned to him and introduced, "This is Harry Paolini." Harry's mouth opened in astonishment, sending Hermione rather discontented glances. Hermione herself didn't know where she thought of the last name, but it would do.

"And," she continued, pointing at the Neville, "this is Neville Lagarda."

Dippet was genuinely interested. He motioned towards Hermione. "And you, my dear?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Hermione..Riddle."

Dippet was purely shocked. His knuckles had turned white and a long gust of air whooshed out his mouth. "Riddle?!"

"Yes, sir. I understand my father went here during 1944."

Dippet pursed his lips, now studying Hermione. "Yes, yes, Tom Riddle."

"That's him."

Dippet let out a nervous laugh. "Yes, your father is quite a brilliant student here. He'll be a great wizard in the future, won't he?"

Harry couldn't suppress his shudder. Hermione forced a smile, "Yes. But I can't go much into depth. As you know, I was instructed not to tell anyone too much of the future."

"Oh, I guess you're right."

To break the silence, Harry asked quietly, "Do you mind telling us what time it is? And what day, most importantly."

Dippet still had that awed expression on his face as he murmured, "November 17, 6:24 P.M."

"Oh!" squeaked Neville for the first time. "It's-it's time for dinner, isn't it…friends?" Hermione could tell Neville just wanted to get out of the headmaster's messy office. His cheeks were bright red with worry and his eyes were twitching.

"Go on, go," said Dippet, unconsciously popping a mint in his mouth, still thinking. "I hope you enjoy your…"

"We're here for a month or so," stated Harry, opening the oak door.

"I hope you enjoy your month here. See you at dinner." The oak door closed behind the newcomers.


The group had walked, or rather dragged Draco, into the Great Hall before any else got there. They all sat nervously on the Gryffindor bench (much to Draco's complaints), waiting.

Soon the hall was filled with students, bursting in, laughing and talking animatedly. Harry was a little amazed. He had learned when he went to Muggle school about World War II. Never had he thought he would be able to go back to the era he so thought was lost forever. The students carried themselves differently..the boys were pristine looking and the girls more conservative.

Hermione glanced down at her jeans and let out a sigh. She never thought about the culture change. It seemed she would be wearing dresses for some time.

The Great Hall was full of bumbling students after a few minutes, none noticing Hermione and her companions seated at the end of the Gryffindor table, not eating. Harry, who was looking around the hall, gasped.

"What?" asked Hermione. Even Draco had looked up.

"Look." Hermione followed Harry's gaze to the Slytherin table and also let out a gasp, which was muffled by the burst of laughter from the Hufflepuff table.

There he sat in the middle of the Slytherin table. Tom Riddle.

He was a dark haired boy with very pale skin, and even from the distance, Hermione could tell he had bright green eyes. Handsome and bored looking, he sat there, apparently listening to what a blond boy had to say. Draco was squinting his eyes at the blond boy, more interested in his ancestor than the future Dark Lord.

A loud clang sounded from the tables were the teachers were sitting. A hush fell over the students as Armando Dippet, a large grin plastered on his face, came up to the podium and spoke. "I would like to announce something very…strange, but interesting nonetheless. We have four students here from the year 1963."

A murmur of interest rose up through the crowd of students. Dippet continued, "They're here for a project on the 1940's. Obviously, the cautions of the Time Turner was dismissed in the 50's. Please, let us welcome them." Dippet raised his hand towards the group. Hermione shivered, feeling the eyes of hundreds on them. Awed students studied the dress attire of the Hermione, a few muttering that she had "boy's clothes" on.

The group walked their way up to the podium. Neville face was now as red as a beet. Armando Dippet stepped out of the podium and watched as Draco came up on the podium.

Draco said loudly into the invisible microphone, his voice sounding from very corner of the Hall confidently, "I'm Draco Monclair. I can be your friend or your enemy. So choose wisely." He stepped down from the podium. A rumble of voices broke out over the silence. Quite a lot of students pointing from the blond haired boy at the Slytherin table to Draco, the similarities between the two strangers uncanny.

Neville had whispered next, "Neville Lagarda." He timidly made his way beside Draco.

Next was Harry's turn. He stated simply, "Harry Paolini at your service. It's an honor to be in your time period." He adjusted his glasses and walked off.

Hermione felt a deep dread in her stomach knotting itself over and over. She swallowed and stood up on the podium. For a few seconds, she stared out over her audience. "Hello there, I would like to start off by saying I hope to learn many things about life in the 40's. I would very much like it if everyone could accept me and my friends into your culture. The 60's was very different from the 40's, so please don't let us and our ways distract you from your learning experience. By the way, my name is…" Hermione took her deepest breath ever. "…Hermione Riddle."