The lift stopped at the floor of the Atrium, and Harry immediately felt although somebody slapped him. Everything, from the statues of the wizard, witch, centaur, and house elf, to the desk where he had had his wand inspected, was destroyed.

Harry made his way into the room, carefully stepping over the shattered remains of a waiting bench. The dark wooden walls of the Atrium were scorched, and splintered. Cobwebs now hung freely, giving the room an ominous look. Even the golden symbols on the ceiling were now devoid of any movement. What happened here?, his mind screamed. It looked as though a tornado had torn through the Ministry of Magic, ravaging everything in its path.

When Harry finally made it to the entrance elevator, he was more desperate for answers than ever. As the elevator shuttered and began its ascent, he thought over what he would do once he reached the surface. Of course, he would have to contact someone as soon as possible. He needed to get back to the wizarding world.

When the elevator reached the ground, Harry was not surprised to see it was still night. Pondering for a second, he withdrew his wand from his robes. Since the Ministry of Magic was obviously in no condition to punish underage wizardry, he didn't think a bit would hurt him now. Holding his wand out in front of him, he murmured, "Lumos", sparks flying from the end.

With a loud bang, the Knight Bus appeared before him, exactly as it looked the day when he, Ron, and Hermione, rode it back to Hogwarts. Out jumped a thin, purple uniformed man, who stood at attention, ready to help Harry into the bus. Harry grinned at the figure.

"'Arry! 'Arry Potter!" exclaimed the figure, as he gazed over Harry's face, "Ern, 'Arry's back!"

"Nice to see you, Stan," smiled Harry, happy to be with a familiar face once again.

"Wow, 'Arry, where ya bin?" Stan Shunpike continued on, enthralled, "I aven't seen ya for years, since the paper announced that you disappeared."

Harry grimaced. What Stan just said was all the proof he needed that his guess had been correct. "Ermm…" he began, as he stepped onto the Knight Bus's purple steps, "You wouldn't mind telling me…exactly how long ago was that?"

Stan followed Harry up the steps to the bus. "'most six years, I reckon. Yeh, six years since they last seen ya. Some folks were sayin that You-Know-Who got tha better of ya, but I knew better than that. I figured that kid would go down fightin, not all quiet without a sound."

It was within the light of the bus, where Harry was able to get his first real look at Stan. The conductor had matured much since the last time they'd met, his face cleared of it's acne, and his arms less dangly, and more filled. Harry was certain that he, himself, had not aged or changed, and wondered briefly what Stan thought of this.

As hearing this question, Stan stared in awe at him, again. "You dun look a day older since I last saw ya!" he grinned, then looked curiously down at the hourglass in Harry's hand, "So, where're ya goin' today, 'Arry?"

Harry twitched. He had been thinking much about this. He could possibly go back to Hogwarts, but there was no guarantee to find Dumbledore there, as, six years ago, he had been a fugitive from the Ministry, and not yet returned. There was also the option of going to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Sirius's parents' house, and the meeting place of the Order of the Phoenix. However, Harry was also unsure as to whether he'd find anyone there or not. Six years was a lot of time. He considered Diagon Alley for a moment, but pushed that thought away, as it might not be the best idea to be seen in public at the moment. It seemed a reckless thing to do. He mentally slapped himself for thinking of Privot Drive for the briefest of moments, though, it might be fun to see the look on his aunt and uncle's faces, when he waltzed in, unchanged, after six years of absence.

After mulling this over for another few moments, he replied, "Grimmauld Place, here in London." Stan nodded, pointing him back to a bed near the end of the bus. Harry, grateful for a place to lie down, thanked Stan, and headed to his bed. It wasn't until he set the hourglass next to the bed, and lay down, did all the injuries he'd sustained from the Death Eater battle come flooding over him. He clenched his teeth together in pain, mentally berating himself for not expecting this.

Breathing heavily for a few minutes, Harry gradually felt himself relax. Now that he wasn't focused on the pain of his injuries, he was free to reflect on the events of the day. It seemed years ago that he had broken into Umbridge's office, trying to communicate with Sirius, and Harry reminded himself that it, technically, HAD been years ago. He went through an entire six years, in a few moments.

Harry had a very good idea of what exactly happened to get him here. He had seen something like it before, when Hermione had a similar hourglass, which transported the user back in time. They used it to rescue Sirius and Buckbeak, when the Ministry locked Sirius in a room, giving a Dementor the go ahead to administer a Kiss of Death.

The hourglass from the Ministry of Magic ran on the same concept, except, in this case, it pushed Harry forward in time, instead of backward. Indeed, the Death Eaters who were about to tackle him, must have been very surprised to see him disappear in midair. He wondered what they told Voldemort, their master…had they taken credit for his death? He could certainly imagine them doing so, groveling at Voldemort's feet, kissing his robes, as they proclaimed their loyalty to him. Sickened, he cleared his mind, saving any speculative thought for another time.

With another loud bang, the Knight Bus stopped again, dropping off an ill-looking witch, who was clutching a rather large hand basket covered with cloth. Harry did not comment, but looked up slightly, as her hand basket began both growling and clucking, while emitting a strange scent of old cheese. The bus banged again, and set off, presumably to Grimmauld Place next.

Harry's mind stayed surprisingly clear for the rest of the trip, a skill which would have done him well when he tried to learn Occlumency. He was never able to complete his lessons, as Snape had banned him from ever setting foot inside his office again. Not that Harry saw this as a big loss.

When Harry left the Knight Bus, Stan gave him a great wave, welcoming him back any time he needed a ride. Harry smiled, nodding his head and waving, as the bus took off with another great bang. He turned to survey the houses, broken windowed and falling apart as he remembered them, and made his way to the space between Number Eleven and Number Thirteen. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Harry thought to himself.

The moment he thought the number, a battered looking door appeared before him. Pausing before the door, he found his heart was beating wildly. What would he find here?

Harry stepped onto the doorstep, and knocked.

He felt his breath catch in his throat, as a young woman, with brown, bushy hair opened the door. "Who…" she began, but stopped dead in her tracks as she stared, face-to-face with a boy who disappeared from the world exactly six years ago.

Harry, not knowing what else to do, just grinned nervously. "Hey, long time no see, Hermione," he said, finally managing to find his voice.

For a moment, her eyes widened in deep shock, and Harry rushed forward to catch twenty-one year old Hermione Granger, who had just fainted to the ground.

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Quick Author's Note: Ooh…exciting! Heh, I need a break for now, so it might be at least a week or two before the next part is posted. Until then, you are free to read what I have done over and over again, until you insanely start dodging hourglasses, or anything with latin lettering, for that matter. That's what I'm doing with the Harry Potter books! ^_^; BTW, the letters inscribed on the hour glass…well, I kind of forgot what they meant (errgg…damn senile authors!), but they mean something like, "To set in motion". I'll get back to ya on that one. ^_^;