Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Through Time

One: Step Forward

The Hogwarts Express roared away from King's Cross station at exactly eleven o'clock, as usual. Harry was slouched in a seat in a compartment toward the back of the train, not alone, but wishing he were. Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley's animated conversation wasn't working wonders for the headache that throbbed through his skull. Luna Lovegood stared dreamily in Neville's direction.

The door burst open suddenly and Hermione Granger came rushing in, thrusting a folded piece of parchment into Harry's face. Harry's best friend, Ron Weasley, followed close behind her.

"That's the solution," Hermione said triumphantly.

Harry stared at her. "To what, exactly?" he asked.

"Your dream." She said, smiling. Neville and Ginny dropped into silence, and looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione. Luna seemed oblivious.

"What dream?" Neville asked. The group was a whole lot closer since their great battle at the end of term. Harry opened his mouth to explain, but Hermione beat him to it.

"Harry saw himself, and woke up with his scar hurting, except it wasn't him, because he was wearing an invisibility cloak," Hermione said.

"And it wasn't my eyes. And the glasses were different," Harry said. Hermione turned to him.

"You didn't tell me that." She said.

"Guess I forgot." Harry said, shrugging.

"You bloody well better remember next time you have details," Hermione cried. Harry's eyebrows attempted to detatch themselves from his forehead. Did Hermione just swear? She snatched the paper back from him and lit it with her wand. It curled into a tiny ball of ash and disintegrated. She sighed. "Back to square one."

Ron groaned. "All that work for nothing?" He asked. Harry could see he was fighting the urge to laugh. Ginny giggled, but covered it with a cough. Hermione looked exasperated.

~`~

Harry had the dream again that night, for the twenty-fourth time. He knew—he'd been counting. The more times he had the dream, the more he was sure that it was his father he was seeing, and not himself. The three vague shapes in the background were still a mystery, but he had a guess as to who they could have been.

Harry slid from his bed, careful not to wake the other occupants of the room. He wrapped the Invisibility Cloak around him and made his way down the stairs and out of Gryffindor tower. He wandered the halls, unable to sleep, until he found the place where the dream always took place.

He walked down that hall, thinking.

Suddenly, there was nothing.

~`~

James liked to pretend that he hadn't had the dream again. Nothing Remus could find in any Divination book, any dream interpretation book, said anything about dreams causing sharp pains in the dreamer's head. They had taken to looking up curses and hexes until late in the night, before finally recruiting Peter, Sirius, and Lily to help them. The five of them stayed in the library until they were sent away.

It was December before they had any luck. Finally, Lily thought that she may have found a clue to the dream—the dream that had recurred twenty-four times in the last month. Peter had the flu, and was convalescing in the hospital wing. The four of them—Sirius, Lily, James, and Remus—took the book and headed back to the Gryffindor Common Room, where it was warmer, and decidedly more comfortable.

They were walking down a lesser used hall, on their way back, when the lights suddenly flickered out, and cast them into total blackness. James could feel nothing, hear nothing. He couldn't reach out and touch Lily beside him, and he couldn't hear Remus and Sirius's lighthearted bickering anymore. He felt an odd sensation in the center of his chest, not unlike taking a portkey, though the pulling was higher up in his body.

Suddenly, he felt dizzy, and thought that he might vomit. He felt pressure crushing him from all sides, and he reached out blindly for Lily, for Sirius, for Remus, but found no one.

James was grateful when the overwhelming pressure forced him into unconsciousness.

~`~

"...and I bloody well know who they are!" Harry heard vaguely as he began to wake. "I saw them every day when I went to this school! Potter—either one of them!—did this somehow!"

"Severus, I somehow doubt that either Harry or James could have managed such a difficult spell on his own," Dumbledore said calmly.

"How else would you explain the abrupt presence of these four in the halls of the school?" Snape hissed. "If Potter couldn't do it alone, then would you put it past Granger to help him? Or—" Snape broke off, flustered. "Lupin?"

"Severus," Dumbledore repeated, "the spell that has been used to bring Miss Evans, Mister Potter, Mister Lupin, and Mister Black forward through time is far too complicated for even the brightest Hogwarts student to perform. I myself am incapable of performing the spell," Dumbledore admitted calmly.

Snape sputtered, furious.

Harry's heart was pounding in his throat. Professor Lupin and Sirius were here? How? Sirius was… Harry couldn't even bring himself to think the word. How? And through time? Harry's head began to pound, and he sat up.

"Ahh, Harry. Good to see you awake." Dumbledore said.

"This must be some sort of record, Mister Potter, "Professor McGonagall said. "Already unconscious on the first night of term." She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, smiling slightly. "And as for you, er… Mister Potter," McGonagall said, "I would like to know what you and the rest of these hooligans were doing out so late."

"Mm, sleepin'." Harry heard someone say. "Go 'way."

Harry looked in the direction of the voice, and thought that he might pass out again. He was looking at himself. Or what seemed to be himself, with slightly different shaped glasses—the other boy in his dream.

His father.

"Well," Dumbledore said. "Let's get everyone alert so we can sort this out." He clapped his hands together, and the other three occupants of the room woke, slowly moving into sitting positions.

"How did we get in here?" the pretty red-headed girl asked. "A minute ago, we were in the hall, and—SIRIUS!" She said suddenly, turning to the dark haired boy who sat on the floor next to her. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Sirius protested. Harry could do nothing but stare at the younger version of his Godfather, and the girl who would be his mother.

"I really don't think he did it, Lily," said the final traveler, looking up so that Harry got a glimpse of a very familiar, very tired face. Harry knew him. He was Professor Lupin, former schoolteacher and werewolf, or the boy that would become the former schoolteacher. It looked like he was already a werewolf.

"Very correct, Remus," Dumbledore said. "It is none of the faults of you all here. Now, Harry, I believe you recognize all present?"

Harry nodded, mutely. He and James were having a sort of staring contest, each staring into what seemed to be his own face, with only a slight difference—their eyes. James had the briefest feeling of looking into Lily's eyes, but much older, much more tired.

"How did this happen?" McGonagall asked, sinking into a chair.

"We must believe that it is all part of the plot of the dark Lord," Dumbledore said. "That is the only plausible explaination."

"The Dark Lord? You-Know-Who?" Lily asked tentatively.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "You must understand that through curious circumstances, you have been removed from your time and brought forward, whether to help or hinder our cause, I do not know."

"What cause?" Sirius asked. "Because I don't really think I need to get involved in any cause."

"I told you he was useless," Snape interrupted. Dumbledore gave him a sharp look. Sirius looked up at Snape.

"Snivellus?" He asked, incredulous. "Why are you here? Why are you old?"

"Sirius," Lupin groaned. "Were you not listening? Nevermind, I know the answer to that. We were brought forward through time, unfortunately. Thus, Severus is older."

"And—" Sirius began, but Lily clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Shush, Si," she said. Sirius bit her hand, and she squealed. "Foul play!"

Harry turned, fascinated by the interaction between his mother and his Godfather. James turned to Dumbledore.

"Who's he?" he asked, pointing at Harry.

Dumbledore hesitated, unsure if he should tell the four travelers who the boy who looked like James, but with Lily's eyes was. He decided that he could always use a memory charm on them, if need be.

"He is your son, James." Dumbledore said.

"Sorry?" James said, more than a bit startled. "I don't have a son? I'm only sixteen, and even if I did have a son, he couldn't be MY age."

"Yes, but since you are several years into the future, you do have a son, and he is sixteen. He also, is Lily's son." Dumbledore said.

"If he's James's son, how can he be… oh. Oh my," Lily said, comprehension dawning. "Oh my." She repeated. Sirius stared at Harry as though he'd grown a second head, and it was a head that sported great oozing pustules and had extremely sharp, very green, rotted teeth. Lupin went paler, if possible.

"So you're saying that Lily and I… and he…" James stuttered. Snape was on the verge of breaking into cackles. He would have laughed, had he been less evil. He would have been giggling, if he were less dignified.

"Yes, in the interim between your time and Harry's, you marry, you breed, and you have this brat," Snape clarified. "And you name that idiotic git over there his godfather. Then you get betrayed by Peter, and you all die."

"Severus," McGonagall said severely. Snape smirked at them.

"We die?" Lupin asked?

"Oh, not you," Snape said, looking at the werewolf. "You, unfortunately, survive."

"Severus," Dumbledore said, warning in his voice. Snape went quiet, and Dumbledore proceeded to relate all the events he thought that James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus might need to know. In the end, Lily was sitting with her arms around her legs, stunned, James was running his fingers through his hair, Sirius was gaping open mouthed, and Remus was barely breathing. Tears streaked Harry's cheeks from the telling.

"Well," Remus finally said, turning golden-brown eyes up to the headmaster. "How do we get home?"

Dumbledore smiled at the young werewolf, but it did not reach his eyes.

He had no idea how to send the four home.