Harry had to eat the entire stack of toast and make sure his tea leaves didn't contain any deadly omens before Madam Anand would listen to his requests.

It tempted Harry to mention Professor Sybil's many assurances that he would die soon, but decided the matron didn't need to know that.

After much reassurance that he wasn't experiencing any odd symptoms, Harry was eventually allowed to move around the wing. Claiming the fact that he threw off the 'Draught of the living dead', a feat that was never accomplished before, had seemed to convince her that Harry would manage to stand on his own.

Harry had thought of speaking to the witch more, however she claimed she was needed elsewhere and had retreated to her office. He felt he didn't want to know what the strange medi-witch did in her spare time. She seemed nice, but something just didn't sit well. He did brush this away as a case of paranoia, considering a small part of him still suspected this to be a trap.

The rain had begun to fall harder, chasing away the eerie silence that had settled in the wing. Harry sighed as he wrapped the charmed blanket around himself, the heat sinking into his bones as he slowly made his way to the closed divider.

After finding Albus Dumbledore behind the previous one, Harry half-expected Merlin to be doing a jig in a leotard. In fact, Harry decided, he would probably join in, even if would be considered rude not to be properly attired.

Pushing the divider open, Harry let out a breath of relief as he saw his best friend, soundly asleep. Harry noted how pale he seemed in the medical wing's white light. Harry pushed Ron's legs aside as gently as he could, before settling at the base of the bed. He looked to Ron's dozing face, his (now long) hair had gotten tangled during the boy's long nap.

"Feeling alright there, Rapunzel?" Harry asked Ron's snoozing figure, he laughed to himself before he continued, "You wouldn't know her, but she did stay in a tower, like the burrow really, just a bit taller and it didn't exactly have a door-"

Harry didn't jolt when Ron's mouth fell open as he let out a loud snore. After years of sharing a room with him, Harry would've felt concerned if the Weasley was silent.

"Right, the Draught." Harry nodded as he looked to the entrance. He wondered how long it would be till Hermione returned, or maybe one of the professors would walk in with a laugh, explaining it was all a joke and then torture them before sending them to Voldemort. Positive thoughts Harry.

"I don't think anyone mentioned it yet, but Dumbledore's back." He began as Ron turned to his side, snores fading.

"Well, not 'back' exactly, it's more as though we're 'back' and he's not dead yet. Didn't believe it at first myself. Turns out I got us thrown fifty three years backwards, and almost killed us by leading us into Hogwarts." He looked to the heavy rain, "Seems in-line with how our years turn out, to be honest."

Harry turned to face the peaceful Ron, rubbing his gold eye, "Also, we've got a magical eye infection that no one's seen before, there's that." Ron tucked his head under his pillow, pulling the blanket higher. Harry assumed his friend had gotten cold and covered Ron with his warmed blanket. "Hermione's already up, she's-"

"In the library," a gravelly voice interrupted. "Honestly mate, if she were anywhere else, I'd be worried for her." Ron's muffled speech explained as Harry huffed.

"You're awake?!" Harry reached up, grabbing the pillow off Ron's head and began to beat him with it. "You've been letting me prattle on, thinking you're under the Draught this whole time, you git!" Harry continued to beat the laughing boy until he eventually sat up.

"Oi, watch it, don't you know we're in the hospital wing. What if you break something?," Ron tossed his tangled locks over his shoulder, causing Harry to snicker before hitting him one more time, right in the face. Ron fell back to the bed with a huff, asking, "Did you see Slughorn yet?" He couldn't find the energy to get back up.

Harry settled back down, looking to Ron's purple iris, "I heard him actually, tricked me into thinking he was getting Dumbledore."

Ron sat up, leaning back on his elbow as he faced Harry, "Yeah, I fell asleep after that. My cores been draining quicker for some reason, I assume you'll be like that too, the first few days at least." Harry didn't know how to tell him he had already cast spells and threatened three magical beings while Ron had been asleep. "Hermione's magic's fine, she woke up within a week actually. I woke up three later."

"A week!?" Harry's eyes widened as it dawned on him, "How long have I been asleep?" Ron looked to the ceiling as though it had a calendar as he counted in his head.

"About a month, maybe a week more? The days seemed to fly by." Ron explained as Harry processed this information. "We didn't leave your side, not once. We moved traded shifts, looking for answers and watching out for you."

"We've been here for more than a month…the school's going to open soon." Harry muttered, a headache forming slowly. "Thank you, for not leaving me alone." Harry spoke honestly, "You knew I was going to wake up? Also, did they play that 'sibling' test with you as well?"

Realization graced Ron's face as he sat up completely, "Oh! Mione's the reason for that, she woke up saying we were her brothers and were running from the war. A week later her memories came back and she told them what had really happened! Honestly, Dumbledore assumed it was a side effect of time travel." Ron took a breath, "So, they just wanted to make sure you were calm, or at least not off your rocker."

"As for knowing you'd wake up, turns out you were muttering in your sleep. You started speaking an hour ago, and the professors were informed. They were preparing the Wiggenweld when you decided to punch Slughorn." Ron grinned, tickled before he grimaced. "Anand over there refused to tell us what you said, saying 'it's not good for you dearies!' honestly after all we've been through to still get treated like children! I should've asked the house-elves to fill her shoes with Jelly when I had the chance." Ron shook his head, looking at the looked office doors with disdain.

Harry tossed the pillow in the air as he looked at Ron amused, "She seems nice for now. Dumbledore is…" Harry paused resting his head in the palm of his hand, balancing his elbow on his knee, "well, like first year I guess. Back before all this Horcrux nonsense, at least."

"Harry," Ron began as he leaned against the iron bedframe, "its 1945, the only nonsense that wizard had to worry about was marking transfiguration essays. Before we came around at least. Imagine how boring it must've been before we got here. Plus he's Dumbledore, everything worked out for him round this time."

Harry hummed, wondering if he should remind Ron about Grindlewald or Tom Riddle or moaning Myrtle. Instead he asked, "How do we get ourselves here, every single year?"

"It is but one of the many joys of being mates with one, Harry Pott-"A pillow smacked Ron in the face. The duo laughed as quietly as they could, hoping not to alert the medi-witch.

Harry sighed as he stood, gathering his charmed blanket, "We're really here, aren't we?" He wrapped the blanket around his cold frame, wondering if everything was a hallucination and he was actually cursed the moment he touched the watch.

Ron stood beside Harry, muffling a yawn, "We are, and the sooner you accept it, the sooner we can go see Hermione. I'm sure she's become one with the shelves by now." He stated with a smile.

"Then I suggest we run, our favourite Madam just unlocked her door," The two looked over to the office, watching the handle begin to turn.

Not a moment passed before they were running out of the hospital wing, the yell, "MR POTTER, MR WEASLEY, IF YOU TWO Don't get back here this minute!" grew fainter and fainter as the two wizards dashed through their old corridors, the rain beating down around them, feeling like children for the first time in a long while.

Soon they slowed to a brisk walk, Ron letting Harry take in Hogwarts again, as though it were the first time. They made their way to the library. No professors were walking about at this time, busy preparing lesson plans or looking into magical time travel.

They skidded into the library when they spotted Peeves rounding the corner, a sack full of…well Harry didn't want to think about it, and instead he wondered which professor would be receiving a visit from the ghost, half-heartedly hoping it to be Slughorn. He didn't really mean that, he thought, as Ron led him through the shelves, seeming to have memorized the route. He just wasn't looking forward to the conversation the professor would ensure occurred. He could only Imagine what information the old-wait no—middle aged man had tried to wring out of his friends

His thoughts paused as he spotted a figure slouched over a worn book, black hair blocking her face with a quill behind her ear. Harry briefly noted they were in the restricted section. "Mione, I found something you'd like." Ron smiled as he settled into the chair next to hers, yawning into his hand.

"Just put it over by the 'to read' pile please," Her eyes never left the pages as she pointed to Harry's right, three columns of books were stacked haphazardly and Harry knew it was over thirty spines without counting.

"I don't think I'd fit in there," Harry mentioned as Hermione jumped, "I doubt my life would be that interesting."

"Harry! I was going to come see you, but I thought I almost had it." She placed a bookmark in her worn leather book and turned to him. "How are you feeling?"

"Told you you'd like it" Ron mumbled, his voice fading softly as he nestled in the chair.

Harry thought over the latest memories of his life. Getting into the Gringotts vaults with the help of a goblin, being betrayed by said goblin, watched a dragon burn another goblin alive, getting attached to a cursed pocket watch that was hidden inside a Horcrux, floating in eternity , entering Hogwarts and waking up a month later to find Albus Dumbledore alive in 1945, how was Harry feeling?

"Brilliant," he nodded to himself, "and you? Ron told me we were your brothers for a week?"

Hermione laughed slightly as she made her way to her 'to read' pile, "I woke up with these memories, I was livid when they wouldn't let me see you or Ron. It was strange…it felt like I was there, all those years ago." She began separating the books into another pile, a reason Harry could not fathom.

"I remembered growing up with you two, we would chase the family pup around in the yard when we were young. You were the one to teach me how to ride a broom. I remembered every birthday and I remembered when our parents died. We had to run." She sighed, "We always have to run…"

"A week later I remembered I was Hermione Granger, who was friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. I remembered I was an only child…" She sniffed slightly as she read the spine of a random book. "It was just side effects, lives we never really lived, its silly mourn them."

She made her way to a desk and leaned against it. Quickly flipping the pages and turning the book clockwise once before opening to a random page, she began to read.

Harry didn't know what to say. How do you comfort someone who grieved memories of a life that didn't exist? He did what he could. Harry made his way next to her, and wrapped his charmed blanket around both their shoulders and stood beside her. She leaned her head against his shoulder, pretending to read the words on the pages.

"So…Dumbledore has nice robes…?" Began Harry as Hermione looked over to Ron. He had nested in the uncomfortable library chair, which to Ron felt like feather down. His head fell to his side, mouth open as he glided into dreamland.

Hermione laughed silently, "It's odd, isn't it? Seeing him so…" She trailed off, taking the blanket from Harry, "…alive." She sighed and made her way to Ron.

"It's strange seeing him at all really. Doesn't he look a bit like Ron?" Harry looked over the desk behind him, noting the array of books scattered around.

"Harry!" Sharply whispered Hermione, smiling as she laughed again. Her earlier melancholy fading, she covered Ron with the warm blanket, closing his mouth gently before turning back to Harry. She didn't notice the smile that appeared on the dozing Weasley's face.

"Maybe it's their beard." Harry stroked his chin, nodding sagely to himself before Hermione lightly punched his arm. He was just glad she was laughing. "What's this then?" Harry picked up her previously discarded book curiously.

"Clocks and their makers, a guide by Fauna Shaw" Hermione stated before making her way back to her pile of books, this time aware of what she was looking for.

"Sound's very literal." Harry muttered as he opened the book not expecting the thing to begin buzzing and ringing like the bells of Notre dame. He dropped the book in surprise, causing it to open further and half mounted the table when a red and blue cuckoo bird emerged from the pages, pecking at his legs.

He heard laughter in the background but was too focused on the enchanted bird. His hands slipping on the pages behind him before he finally managed to kick the magical book away.

"Oh you shouldn't have done that mate." A wide-awake Ron tutted, pulling the blanket closer. Harry realized it was Hermione's laughter as she stood behind Ron hiding her mirth behind a large blue tome.

"You could have warned me at least." Harry hopped down from the desk, remembering he was in the restricted section of the library and mentally scolded himself. A loud bang caught his attention as he turned back to the book, his wand raised.

The bang had come from a metal hammer attached to a brass figurine who was glaring at Harry. The book didn't appreciate its rough treatment it would seem. The figurine lifted his hammer and hooked it onto a near shelf, pulling itself (and the book) forward to Harry.

"Finem Scientia" A soft voice called out, causing the book to snap shut. The metal hammer slowly slipping back into the closed pages. Harry turned to find a Dumbledore making his way towards the book. "Miss Granger, I did not take you to be the type to pull pranks." He gently picked up the now docile and inserted it into the shelf beside him.

Hermione's laughter finally faded as she spoke, "I'm sorry Headmaster, and I thought Harry had seen me open the book earlier." A tiny moth fluttered around the book in Hermione's hand.

"In this time, I am a simple professor. I have no ambition to leave my classroom anytime soon I'm afraid." He smiled to the trio, two of which grinned back. Harry couldn't bring himself to look the Headm-Professor in the eye.

"Don't worry mate, she didn't tell me either." Ron rubbed his kneecaps with a grimace, "For a toy, that hammer hurts."

"Which reminds me, Madam Anand has sent me in search of two escaped patients, armed with a blanket and heading for the library." Dumbledore nodded as he flicked his wand, causing the scattered books behind harry to neatly stack. "Would you kindly point me in their direction?"

"She said I could walk around, she didn't say how far." Harry noted as he made his way to the chair beside Ron. He didn't notice Hermione's realization.

"Harry! You could collapse at any moment, Ron is still feeling the side effects as it is. You should be resting." She stated as she placed the tome beside Ron who was struggling to keep his head up.

"Oi, I am perfectly fine." He muttered, leaning his heavy head against his hand.

Harry knew he should be feeling worse. He knew it was strange he wasn't experiencing any side effects like his friends were. He wasn't reliving past lives or false memories. His magic wasn't draining with every move he made. His new eye didn't even bother him. Okay, maybe he did have a voice speaking to him earlier but that was silent since he began walking. Everything was going well for Harry and he knew something bad would soon have to follow.

"I see, since Mr. Potter claims no ailment, perhaps you three would keep me company," He made his way to the chair across the trio, eyeing Ron as he sat down. "Well, two out of three."

Harry turned to find his friend dozing (again) before he looked to his old Headmaster. A bowl of candy canes was in his possession, causing Harry to smile.

"First things first, Miss Granger how are you faring?" He asked kindly as he bit into his sweet.

"I haven't come across any signs of Time Travel, let alone time travelers." She huffed growing annoyed, "It's not impossible, the fact that we're here proves it."

"You see Miss Granger, nothing is impossible, however that means there has to be a first." He stated, pointing the hook of the cane to them. "The Department of Mysteries has planned to begin looking into Time travel at the very end of this year, information that did not come easily. I think it is highly probable that you may be the furthest any magical beings has time travelled."

"You're saying we could be stuck here," Harry stated, rubbing his eyes in annoyance. "Brilliant…"

"On the contrary my dear boy, Dumbledore stroked his auburn beard in thought, Harry looked to Hermione who looked to Ron and shook her head amused, "Perhaps time is a tunnel, or maybe a staircase. Perhaps time is a circle or an obelisk. Perhaps time doesn't even exist and everything is happening all at once. No one knows, but the fact that you made it all the way here, proves that there must be a way back."

"Being here at all is dangerous. What if our very existence changes something?" Hermione looked down in thought, "The butterflies mean something, whenever we mention anything from our time, and they appear. Professor, do you think it could serve as a warning sign?"

"I would like to test that theory." Dumbledore stated as he sat straighter in his chair, candy cane hooked in his mouth. "Mr. Potter, if you would please amuse my curiosity while Miss Granger observes." He crossed his legs and neatened his robes.

Harry turned to Hermione who nodded, quickly pulling out a brown book from the stack on Harry's desk, she pulled the quill from behind her ear, dipping it in a pot of ink, ready to note any changes. "Fine, as long as I don't cause any Longbottoms to go extinct from this."

Dumbledore laughed softly, "My first question, when is your birthday?"

Harry faltered, his hand began to itch before he realized it was a moth and began to shoo it away, "I'm sorry, what?"

Dumbledore smiled, "When were you born?"

"31st of July…" Harry couldn't see why that was the professors first question. Dumbledore looked down to his bowl of candy.

"Have you completed your years at Hogwarts?"

"No, this year was supposed-I mean we were supposed to be in our final year."

"I see…" Dumbledore offered Harry a cane from the bowl, who took one, anything to distract him at this point. "Why did you ask about Tom?"

Harry snapped the candy cane in half, finally looking the professor in the eye, "I'm sorry?"

"In the hospital wing, you asked about Tom Riddle? You seemed…frightened?"

The moth fluttered over Harrys head, "I wasn't scared." He stated simply. "I was curious"

"Do you know me well?" Dumbledore suddenly asked causing Harry's mind to race. He suddenly realized he could answer this in any way. He could lie, but he felt Hermione may have told the Professor more of the future already, or he could tell the truth.

Harry looked to Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes and everything came rushing back all at once.

"I took you as my grandfather." Harry stated simply, "I thought you were the strongest and bravest wizard alive. I thought I knew you well, but towards the end it felt like I didn't know you at all. It was as though everything was a lie and I was nothing more than a forgotten relic, or a lackey given a seemingly impossible task as an afterthought." Harry shrugged, "so you see professor, I cannot give you a straight answer. As happy as I am to see you, I am angry. I do not know if I knew you well."

Dumbledore was silent, Hermione's quill had paused. The moth was nesting in Harry's tufts of hair, Ron had begun snoring…loudly.

"I hurt you…" Dumbledore stated, "It means nothing coming from me, to simply apologize for actions that I have yet to take but you have already suffered. And so I will spare you such an insult."

The moth leaped from Harry's hair, to sit upon his glasses as he sighed.

"May I ask, are my assumptions right about Tom?" He decided to continue their experiment rather than open further any wounds that the boy may possess.

"And what do you think Riddle has done?" Hermione jumped in, tilting her head to the professor.

"I have reason to believe that he is responsible for a death here at the school. I fear there are others he's dealt with outside these castle walls but that I cannot prove yet."

"Myrtle…" Hermione began, remembering the ghosts face, "I honestly don't know what to say."

Harry pulled off his glasses, the moth had begun walking over his lenses, "Technically it was Riddle, technically it wasn't, it all depends on who you want to blame really." Harry stated, not thinking of the weight his words carried.

"I see…" Repeated Dumbledore who looked somewhat unsurprised. "What becomes of him?"

Neither teen piped in an answer, looking to each other apprehensively. Swiping at the moth encircling his head, Harry opened his mouth to speak,

"He's a bloody git!" Ron's gravely tired voice piped in, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, "A real pain in the ars-chamber. Honestly professor, is there no way to expel him?" He looked up to the amused eyes of Dumbledore who was holding out a candy cane for him. He took it with a grin.

"I'm afraid it is much harder to expel the head boy, especially when he has most of Hogwarts around his finger." Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid I have to visit Madam Anand before I retire, Miss Granger please note a headache has formed, be it to the exposure of future information or simple old age, we shall never know." He nodded to the trio, "I will no longer trouble the youth with an old man's company, have a good day children." before making his way through the shelves.

The trio looked to each other before hearing a distant, "Gooberplick! My dear children." fade into the warm library air.

"You think we're gonna find a way back before the year starts for this lot?" Ron asked pressing his hand across his mouth.

Hermione was reading the notes while Harry was still battling the ever insistent moth.

"I hope we get back before we have to deal with Riddle here." Harry swiped at the moth only for it to evade. Hermione noticed his plight and walked forward. She lifted her wand gently and cast a wordless 'Lumos'. The moth instantly left Harry alone, any sign of time travel warnings forgotten as it flew to Hermione, happy to be near the light.

"What's he like anyways?" Ron asked, watching Hermione move her wand to and fro, the moth following in her little game. "The one you met in the Chamber, the Horcrux. The biggest part of his soul that was."

"You never did tell us that part Harry" She looked over her shoulder to the apprehensive look on his face.

What was Tom Riddle like?

The question sounded through his mind, memories of the chamber playing in his mind's eye. The image of Riddle stood clearly before him. From the perfect hair to the neatly pressed robes. Harry never wanted to punch a figure of his imagination more.

"I trusted him." Harry nodded, "And he set a Basilisk on me. That's what Tom Riddle's like."

Hermione turned and gently threw the light off her wand towards Harry who quickly caught it in his. A smile forming at the moth which followed.

"I think, we can handle him." Hermione put her wand away, opening her notebook again to record the moth's normal behavior. "Harry was able to get rid of the biggest Horcrux at twelve years old, I think we can handle Riddle before he can become Voldemort."

"You know what 'Mione I agree!" Ron sat up in his chair, pulling out his Deluminator. Harry quickly brought his wand closer to Ron as the light leapt from his wand to catch in the instrument. "I say, we push him down the stairs like a bunch of muggles and gun it!" He looked to Harry with a straight face.

Soon Harry and Hermione burst out laughing at the unblinking look on his face.

"I'm serious you lot! Best case scenario, he ends up at St Mungo's in a coma. Just like that we save the wizarding world." Ron threw his hands back dramatically, feeling as though he had solved muggle world hunger. "Worst case, he kills us on the spot, but you know what at least we can say we pushed Voldemort down the stairs."

The moth was fluttering around his head, confused as to where the light had disappeared.

"This reminds me of the killing baby-Hitler problem," Hermione mentioned, reading over her notes, she didn't have to look up to know the confused look Ron was sporting.

"A Hitler? What's that? Sounds like a disgusting parasite you'd find in a dung beetle or something."

"Close." Harry clarified, "He's currently waging World War 2 in the muggle world." He looked to Hermione's impressed face, "I did go to normal school too, I'm oblivious not dumb," He shrugged, choosing to eat his candy cane pieces and ignore Hermione's laugh.

"The baby-Hitler problem is a question of ethics. A time traveler is sent back in time to kill baby Hitler, the question is can they kill Hitler, saving millions of lives in the process even if he is a harmless baby." Hermione looked to Ron, "Would you kill baby Hitler, knowing you could save lives and people from torture and death?"

Ron looked conflicted, "Well he's a baby…but he kills so many…but he's a baby…but he's going to kill people and…torture them…I'll- Honestly I don't know what I would do. What about you Harry?"

"Oh, I'd send him to a different art school." Hermione had to stifle her laughs.

"Now where the bloody hell did an art school come from?!" Ron began, twisting his blanket in his hand, "Here's the thing, Riddle isn't a baby, he's already murdered people, only difference between him and Voldemort is a school uniform, that's the way I see it."

The image of Riddle appeared before Harry's eyes again.

"And hair," Harry mumbled as he nestled into the chair, suddenly understanding why Ron found them so comfortable. "And a nose too." He closed his eyes listening to Hermione and Ron debate the ethics of time travel murder.

Harry's nose began to itch and he opened his gold and green eyes to spot the moth had perched on the tip of his nose. Harry sighed, hoping that would frighten the tiny insect away. Instead it climbed to the bridge of his nose and stared at him. His eyes were growing heavy and his head felt like sawdust. He didn't want to deal with odd insects right now.

He closed his eyes as his friends voices fell away.

They had three weeks before they would have to decide if they were pushing Tom Riddle down the grand staircase.