All Dressed Up with Nowhere to Go
The Houses competition:
Round four: bonus.
House: Ravenclaw:
Class: Charms
Category: category 1, Tropes
Prompt: Time Travel
Additional prompt: "That's never going to fit."
Word count without AN: 1810
Word count: 1859
Thank you, Ayden, Cute and Bea for beta'ing!
Warnings: AU
Harry Potter nervously paced the Headmistress of Hogwarts' office, impatiently waiting for Hermione to arrive. Upon the desk, waiting until it was time to leave, lay a special Time-Turner: one that allowed him to travel years into the past, for ten minutes only. They had gone to a lot of trouble to find such a thing, and if it was ever found out what they'd done, they'd be in big trouble.
The task was simple: he was going to polyjuice as Minerva McGonagall, and then apparate to Godric's Hollow. He'd then use the time turner to go back to 1981 and warn his parents about Voldemort coming. It had to be him to go, as they had no idea how much time he'd have before Voldemort arrived. If Voldemort arrived before the Potters could leave, Harry was the only one who could defeat him, even if it was merely temporarily. It also had to be McGonagall, as they trusted her, and there were not many other people they trusted fully were alive.
Harry kept going over the plan in his head, coming up a backup plan, just in case something went wrong. He had to make sure he was convincing, as they had to believe him. They will almost certainly discover later that 'McGonagall' was an impostor, but that didn't matter as long as they believed him at the time.
"It will be okay, Harry. You have practised acting like Minerva enough these last few weeks for it to work. They are more likely to get panicked when you tell them. If you slip up, they may not notice," Dumbledore said reassuringly. Harry jumped before looking up at his former headmasters' painting.
"I guess, Professor. But what if they think I'm fake from the start?! Then this will all be for nothing!" Harry exclaimed.
"On the contrary, Harry: they will still leave if they think you're a fake. The risk of you being a Death Eater impersonating Minerva would be too great," Dumbledore pointed out, still giving good advice despite being only a portrait now.
"Good point," Harry nodded reluctantly.
"Sorry it took so long!" Hermione cried, bursting in, followed by McGonagall.
"Do you have everything, Hermione?" Harry asked anxiously.
"Yep: the Polyjuice Potion is ready for you to drink; I have added the hair and everything. We managed to find something similar to what Professor McGonagall would have worn, without borrowing her clothes, as I'd imagine you would not be so fond of that. That was no easy task," Hermione nodded.
Harry was mortified he would have to wear women's clothing and become a woman, not that he would voice it, in fear of what Hermione would say. He was happy to note the polyjuice looked more appetising than Goyle's.
"You remember what you're supposed to do and say, Harry?" Harry's former head of house asked.
"Yes. I overheard Sirius bragging about being the Secret Keeper, that's how I know it's Peter. I pulled Sirius aside and said he needed to be more careful, and he told me the full story, and he remarked upon Peter visiting his mother a lot recently. I then say I went straight there to warn them, as Peter doesn't have a mother: she died when he was eleven," Harry repeated. "Surely they'd realise the only explanation for lying would be he is a Death Eater?"
"Very good," McGonagall nodded.
"You better go and put this on, Harry," Hermione said, handing the robe to him. "Then it's time to take the potion."
Harry took it, trying to hide how mortified he felt. "This is never going to fit!" Harry exclaimed after unfolding it, seeing how long it was.
"It will once you have taken Polyjuice potion," Hermione huffed as if to say 'you're an idiot.'
"Ah, yeah. I forgot about that," Harry said, feeling embarrassed. He quickly got changed after conjuring a screen to change behind.
When he came back, he asked, sighing, "I guess I better drink it now?" He still had bad memories of drinking polyjuice and was in no hurry to repeat it. Alas, it couldn't be avoided.
"Yes," Hermione nodded.
"Alright," Harry sighed, picking up the vial, opening it and drinking the contents.
Harry felt his body start to change, with little pains here and there from something changing shape or length. "How do I look?" Harry asked when it was over, realising his voice now resembled McGonagall's. He was happy to note the robe was not too long now.
"Just like me: if you keep in character, they won't know the difference. You better hurry, though," McGonagall said, reminding him he only had an hour.
"Good point," Harry nodded, grabbing the time turner. "I have my wand and the time turner: that's it, right?"
"Yes. Remember, twenty and a quarter turns, exactly. If it's wrong, you'll end up in a completely different time, or worse, after he's been," Hermione said. They had been spending months working on how much to turn it to get the correct time, and it had to be precise. This entire mission was about being precise.
"Yes, I remember," Harry nodded.
"Good luck," the two women said, satisfied Harry was as ready as he was going to be.
"Thanks. I'll need it," Harry nodded. He then strode out the door in the manner of the Gryffindor Head of House. He hurried through Hogwarts, taking shortcuts to help him get there faster. He didn't run into many people, which suited him fine. While it wasn't required, Harry was planning to get to Godric Hollow with forty minutes to spare, so he had plenty of time to get ready, and he didn't have to wait too long to transform back when he returned from the past.
When Harry got to the front gate, he quickly Disapparated to Godric's Hollow, not needing to linger. He knew he'd be down ten minutes already, and he had fifty minutes to spare, which suited him fine.
He Apparated behind the church in Godric's Hollow and walked out into the open. He would have liked to have stopped at his parent's graves, but Harry knew time was an essence, and he wouldn't fail this mission. They had put so much work into this, what could go possibly wrong?
When he arrived at his parent's house, he entered the front gate and went to the corner of the garden, before casting the disillusion charm. Hermione and McGonagall had done the research, and it would be fine to use a time turner whilst under the spell's influence. There was likely to be no negative effects, as far as they knew, and it was worth the risk to avoid people asking questions. He had to be in their yard when he used the time turner, as the Fidelius charm over the house wouldn't be an issue.
Harry then put the hour-glass shaped object around his neck, thinking it was stupid to not put it on earlier. But then, he had just transformed into a woman, and he felt a little off colour from that. He started turning the object then, recalling the number which had been burnt into his brain. They had all stressed how important getting it right was, he wasn't going to forget it.
As Harry turned and turned the object, he felt the area around him start to shift. When he finished, a few seconds passed before he found himself in the same garden in front of his parents' house. But something was wrong. It looked much newer then he had known it to be at that time, albeit the memories he had were a little fuzzy. There was also a woman at the other end of the garden gardening, and it sure as hell wasn't Lily Potter or anyone else Harry knew.
Realizing something had gone wrong, Harry left the property as quickly as he could, finding somewhere to hide so he could lower the charm and ask someone for the date. Currently, he was just perplexed and tried to work out how he managed to turn it too much. That millimetre too far must have done it, Harry supposed.
He looked around, taking in the beauty of Godric's Hollow. Next door to what would (evidently) become his parents' house, he saw a witch he thought to be Bathilda Bagshot. He started to panic at first, but then his common sense kicked in and he realised this was Bathilda, not Nagini. If he had time, he'd stop and talk to her. He was sure she'd have lots of interesting things to say, and he'd learn a lot.
"Hello!" Bathilda said, waving.
"Err, hi?" Harry said, waving back, while inwardly cringing at the tone he was using, and it was very unMcGonagall, not that it mattered right this moment. He recalled getting told off multiple times for not walking properly or saying the correct things when they practised his conversation with the Potters. Needless to say, Harry was very sure of acting like Minerva McGonagall now.
"You look a bit lost. May I help you?" Bathilda asked.
"Who lives next door?" Harry asked.
"Oh, the Plitters," Bathilda said kindly.
"Ah: thanks. I better go, now. Thank you!" Harry said, realising how much time he had probably wasted already.
He walked away from where Bathilda lived and looked around. He spotted a man carrying a paper, and Harry thought he looked like a good person to go and ask about the date, and he could hopefully get a look at his paper. Harry then cast a notice-me-not on his clothing, in case this man he was about to speak to was a muggle.
"Excuse me," Harry asked politely.
"Yes, ma'am?" he asked, turning to face her. Harry had been confused by being addressed as a ma'am, but then he remembered he was currently polyjuiced to look like a woman.
"What's the date? My nephew's birthday is coming up, and I'm worried it may be today," Harry said, putting some concern in his voice, or as best as he could, and not caring if he didn't act like the witch he was supposed to be. He suspected it wouldn't make much difference if he acted like McGonagall or not, now.
"Ah. It's the thirtieth of August," he responded, smiling understandingly.
"Thank you: that's a relief," Harry lied, having gotten a look at the man's paper, and seeing the year, 1932.
As Harry walked away, he was so angry with himself. How could he have gotten it so wrong?! It was supposed to be 1981, not 1932! He had ruined it, and he had no idea what to do, now. He wanted to breakdown and cry, but one thought lingered in his mind:
'What now? Whatever I do, Hermione is going to kill me for getting it wrong and ending up in the wrong year.'