It had been 2 days since Harry's jaunt to the past, looking back he wished he had done so much more in it, maybe even meet his mother for the first time. He knew it wouldn't be the same but it would be the closest he was ever likely to get. Harry sat absent mindedly doodling on a piece of parchment in front of him, he was sat on the back row of Professor Binn's History of Magic class. Harry honestly wondered why pupils were subjected to this, maybe it was to build stamina as Binns droned on about Ed the Educated slaying Ug the Unclean over Si the stunning. Hermione was avidly taking notes, the only person in the class strong enough to resist the hypnotic tones of the late professor's voice. Ron had started folding his paper this way and that, almost as if making a fortuneteller. Harry guess it would probably end up being a paper aeroplane or whatever the wizarding equivalent was.
Sitting in the library surrounded by muggle and wizarding textbooks alike, James was bored, free periods where usually fantastic but this was right in the middle of the day and most other people where in divination. James quit the subject after predicting his death repeatedly started to depress him; he had now taken Muggle studies, which was challenging for James. His pure blood family had no need for muggle appliances so he had never learnt of them. This also meant the subject was useless for him, but at least it beat the crap out of the woolly discipline of divination, which had no redeeming features as far as James was concerned. Until the beginning of the week James thought predicting the future was impossible, after all it could be changed, now he wasn't too sure. Who says that he was the only person to ever go off on such an expedition? Looking down at his Muggle studies essay James felt a feeling of dread, he wasn't going to fail this subject quite as disastrously as the alternative, but he was still doubtful for an A. This thought made James feel sick, the room started to spin around him and he slumped unconscious for the second time this week
James woke up and looked round, he was in a lesson of some nature; Professor Binns was at the front. He must have dropped off during History of Magic again, he have been in the middle of odd and exceedingly boring dream, he was sure he had been in the library surrounded by muggle books. James looked to his right and his heart fell as he saw a familiar red head. Looking down at the piece of parchment in front of him it became apparent he was once again in the future. James prayed that Binns was no more alert these days as he whispered a single word into Ron's ear.
"Shit". Ron instantly looked round and saw James hazel eyes greeting him.
"Push your fringe down, cover your forehead. You've got to look like Harry." Ron kicked Hermione on the other side of him, she swung round ready to hit him until she spotted 2 hazel eyes staring back from where she would expect to see Harry's dazzling green ones.
"Shit" she muttered under her breath.
Harry awoke in the library surrounded by muggle books. Waking up he could understand - History of Magic was a battle to stay awake during - but why had he suddenly been transported across the school. One thought came into his mind and he didn't like it. Opening the front of one of the textbooks he looked at the date stamps. There wasn't a single one after 1976, he repeated this a couple of times until it dawned on him, he was back in the past. Rummaging through his pockets he found his battered old marauder's map, tapping it and saying the password it showed everyone else up in divination. James mustn't take that subject, that's why he's here. He is on a free. Looking around Harry finally laid eyes on the essay in front of him, in one corner the name James Potter was written in a quick angular hand while underneath this was the essay title "Name various forms of Muggle transportation and compare their uses". Harry smiled, he could do this with his eyes closed and as he may be here for some time he decided to get going, 4 rolls of parchment later Harry stuck a note to the front page.
James/Dad
Did the essay for you, you seemed to be struggling, I guess our handwriting is different so you may have to rewrite it later. I know it's right; I got brought up with muggle stuff all around. My mum's muggle born.
If this happens again feel free to do my essays for me and don't you dare lose my place on the quidditch team in 1997.
Harry.
He hoped he could disappear back in a couple of hours just like before. Re-reading his essay Harry jumped as Sirius shouted "Hey Prongs!", this got him a cautionary look from Ms Pince, the Hogworts librarian. Harry lowered his voice to a whisper as he lifted his head up
"It happened again". The others all seemed to catch onto what he meant.
"Well, lets get back to the dorm, there are less people about there." Remus added, although he was with the pranksters this guy was born to be a professor. While Sirius was a totally different person than the one that emerged from Azkaban Remus was recognisable in both looks and attitude.
The end of History of Magic couldn't come soon enough for Ron, Hermione and James. As soon as the bell went the trio threw their books into their bags and pegged it to the tower, eventually locking themselves away in the boy dorm hoping that no one else would be about for some time.
"I thought this was over" Hermione ranted.
"Well you're not the only one," James was peeved, after all it was him who was seemingly destined to spend his life in 2 times. Well at least if it carried on happening maybe he would find something out about the future which Ron and Hermione where so desperate to keep away from him, he was a fool for dropping divination.
"Do you know why this started happening?" James asked, the day of the first swap had been entirely average, no pranks no accidents, no injuries.
"Harry had to drink a potion in front of class which had gone wrong. We thought it didn't do anything but as soon as lesson finished and we got up here you 2 swapped." James looked alarmed, drinking a bad potion; that was stupid. First day of term the lecture is always about potion making being "an exact and subtle science", any teacher making their pupils drink their potions must be stupid unless they are 100% certain they are right.
"Well, sorry to be a bore Hermione but me and James are going to have to go. Quidditch practise, I'll fill you in on the way down." James suddenly felt better, quidditch practise. OK, he would have to play seeker probably but it was still quidditch. Ron had stated rummaging in his trunk, pulling out his robes and broom, James decided that he had better do the same. Looking through the trunk he found his own invisibility cloak, and found it pleasant to know he was still encouraging rules breaking even with his advanced years. Eventually James found Harry's robes.
"Do you reckon they'll fit?" He asked hopefully.
"James, you 2 look identical of course they will fit." Hermione said.
"Where does he keep his broom?" It didn't appear to be in the trunk, James couldn't bear the thought of his son having to use a school broom, and surely he wouldn't be that cruel to his son.
"Try under his bed" Pulling himself under his mattress James spotted quite possibly the best looking broom he had ever seen "Wow, these babies have really come on in 20 years" he muttered, admiring the broom.
"It's an international standard broom, he got it in third year. It's fantastic to ride, even if you are not used to being the seeker there is a chance you will get away with it." James still stared at the broom, The Firebolt.
"Come on we'll be late at this rate, Harry is the captain." Ron grabbed James and dragged him to the quidditch pitch along the way detailing the team. It emerged that Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, who shared a dorm with Harry and Ron, were beaters, Ron himself was the keeper and the remaining 3 were the chasers. The team played well, James was no Harry but he was sufficient enough for the team just to presume Harry was having a bad day, he still caught the snitch although his dives were not quite as daring as his sons they got the job done. He barked orders like a true captain, although maybe a little sterner than Harry and seemed to focus almost entirely on the chasers. This bothered no one; they just presumed it was a new attempt to get the team to win.
