Disclaimer: This story is provided by the author 'as is' and does not contain or represent any expressed or implied ownership of any fictional characters and/or creatures created by J.K.Rowling.

The next day, Harry decided to let Ginny sleep in for the weekend.  He gave her a goodbye kiss on her cheek, and he smiled as she murmured in her sleep from it.  Harry wrote a quick note for her, letting her know that he'd be back for lunch.

After a quick apparition to Hogsmeade, Harry started a leisurely walk down the cobblestone path to the castle.  For several minutes, Harry was 15 years old again, and he was just coming back from Butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks.  As the silhouette of the castle rose against the dawn sunrise, he saw that the grounds had barely changed in the last two decades.  The greenhouses were still there, and the small hut that used to be Hagrid's house had smoke billowing out of the tiny chimney.  Harry smiled as he saw that the quidditch pitch was already occupied; some captain obviously was pushing their team like Oliver Wood used to.  Harry squinted, trying to make out the robe colors.  They looked blue, but they could've also been green – it was impossible to tell for sure.

Harry sighed.  Even with all the attacks and dire situations at Hogwarts, it was still a time of innocence.  It had been forever since he worried about trivial issues like the Quidditch practices and Yule Balls.  Even with Voldemort gone, the Department of Mysteries still had critical situations that needed to be handled delicately.

Harry pulled out his watch, and saw that he was running a bit early.  He slowly smiled, which spread into a grin.  He left the path, and started walking towards the quidditch pitch.  As he got close enough, he saw that the robes were indeed blue – and apparently Ravenclaw had a reserve team, because they were playing a scrimmage against themselves.

Harry sat down on the grassy field, and leaned back to look up at the action.  Harry had to admit that this was almost more fun than watching a league game.  In the professional leagues, it was almost as if every player was too good.  But the school game had, well, real players.  They made mistakes; they didn't always do the 'best' move.

Harry laid back under the sunrise, silently taking in the constantly shifting game above him.  He was almost to the point of napping peacefully when a player yelled, "Hey!  There's a spy!"

Harry looked up, and saw the 14 Ravenclaw players had stopped their game.  Harry grimaced, trying to decide what his best option was.  If he stayed much longer, the team would fly down to see who he was.  Or he could leave, and hope that the team wouldn't try to follow.  Harry suddenly realized he was supposed to be in the library, reading up on Voldemort's plan.

Harry quickly drew his wand and conjured a dense smoke around him, after which he made himself invisible.  When the smoke cleared, the students all gasped – the man had vanished somehow.

"He disapparated!" yelled a small girl.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Susan!" chimed in another girl, clutching her broomstick, "You can't disapparate on Hogwarts grounds!"

Harry smiled and couldn't resist yelling, "Yeah!  Haven't you read Hogwarts: A History?"

"Who said that?" Susan asked.

Harry quickly ran into the castle, not waiting for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team to figure out what happened.  When he got inside and took the invisibility charm off himself, he found McGonagall staring at him.

"You're 15 minutes late, Mr. Potter."  Somehow, McGonagall's prim tone put him back 20 years, and he was actually a little nervous.

"Sorry, headmaster," Harry said back.

McGonagall's lips twitched mildly, in what looked to almost be a smile.  "Minerva will work just fine."

Harry didn't know for sure whether McGonagall was looking amused, but he said, "Then you don't have to call me Mr. Potter, either."

McGonagall, if anything, grew more amused.  "I'm sure you remember where the library is.  May I ask you something?  Do you remember Viktor Krum here at Hogwarts?"

Harry was puzzled by her seemingly unrelated question, and said, "A little.  Why?"

Harry could swear McGonagall was grinning beneath her stony exterior.  "Nothing, Harry.  Nothing at all.  I do believe you should get started."

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Olivia: It's a good thing I picked 19 years after they graduated, since it makes it very easy to decide where the 'Little Potter's are.

Kaelli: Sorry, Kaelli, but I'm going to leave the toaster bit up to the reader's imagination.  Also, Harry hasn't given up the Unspeakable joke for 19 years – he's probably not going to give it up in the span of my story.  Then again, he's not at the Department of Mysteries anymore.

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