A Tale of Two Times

Snatched through time at birth, Harry becomes a time Traveller. He discovers this at five when he meets his real parents, and goes to Hogwarts prepared... but he hadn't realised Voldemort had a spy in Hogwarts and was trying to steal a dangerous artefact.

Chapter Two

Introducing Harry

June: 1005

"We have someone we'd like you to meet," Godric told Helga and Salazar.

"Who?" they both asked curiously.

"Come on, don't be shy," Rowena coaxed to someone that they couldn't see.

After a bit more coaxing, a young boy stepped forward. Both their jaws dropped simultaneously. He looked exactly like the people on either side of him, and he clung to Rowena's leg.

"Who? What?"

"He's our son," Godric announced proudly.

Salazar sneered. "You can't have been hiding him for all his life."

"We didn't," Rowena looked downcast. "Merlin took him because of a deal with my father." That shut Salazar up quickly, and Helga stood up and hugged her.

Then she knelt down until she was level with him. "Hello, dear, what's your name?"

Harry looked hesitant. He clicked in a strange language to the tarantula on his shoulder, and looked at Helga. "Harry Gry – Gryff?" he stopped, a look of concentration on his forehead. He looked at his father.

"Gryffindor," he supplied, and Harry nodded.

"So Harry, what do you like doing?" Helga asked.

Harry looked pensive. "Reading."

Helga laughed. "Just like your mother. What else?"

Harry shrugged. "Do you fly?" she prompted, and Harry looked at her, and shook his head.

"Do you play chess?"

Another negative.

"Do you play games with your friends?" she asked, surely he would say yes to this.

Harry shook his head once again.

"Do you do anything?" Salazar snapped sarcastically.

Harry's bottom lip wobbled slightly, but all in the room saw it. That was before Harry blinked, and his face became a perfectly calm mask. A few clicked words to the spider, and it crawled off his shoulder.

It then proceeded to crawl over to Salazar, and up his pant leg. Harry's face stayed calm, while Godric was trying very hard not to burst out laughing.

Once the spider had finished scaring Salazar and come back to rest on Harry's shoulder, Salazar pulled a snake out of his pocket.

"We'll see about that," he muttered darkly, and then hissed something at the snake.

"Why did you tell him to scare me? It's not like I couldn't hear," asked Harry innocently.

At this point, Godric did burst out laughing. "Oh, Harry, that was wonderful." He clutched his side as he spoke. "Just tell that damned snake to keep away from you."

Harry shrugged. "Yes, daddy," before hissing something incomprehensible at the snake.

Salazar looked at the little boy, gaping. "How?" he asked, knowing that Godric knew what he was talking about.

"I'd rather we didn't get into that," Rowena smiled sadly. "Now, Godric, you can take him out to fly. BUT BE CAREFUL! I will never forgive you if anything happens to him!" Godric's face lit up, and he took Harry outside, already explaining Quidditch and flying eagerly, the young boy clinging on to his every word.

While they had their little lesson inside, Rowena explained to Helga and Salazar where Harry had been for the last five years. They both agreed at once to help teach Harry about the magical world, this time, and all the other things that were essential for someone from that era to know.

Godric, of course, had agreed the moment Rowena had even suggested it, wanting to make up for the time that he'd missed with his son.

The moment Godric had told Harry about Quidditch, Harry had been enthralled, and kept begging his father to teach him how to play, but his mother wouldn't allow it.

Rowena had finally relented, her boys could be very persuasive. (She'd given in when she'd overheard Godric telling Harry that he'd take him out later that night and teach him, if he didn't tell his mum. She'd much rather that he was taught in daytime.) So Harry and Godric were heading down to the newly erected Quidditch pitch, with their brooms.

"Alright, Harry," Godric started when they finally reached the pitch. "Put your broom on the ground at your feet."

Harry did so, looking very much confused. "Now put you hand over top of it, and say 'up'." He demonstrated, his broom flying straight to his hand.

"Up!" shouted Harry at the broom, and it immediately jumped to his hand. He looked at his father and gave him a toothy grin. "I did it, daddy!"

"I can see that, well done!" Godric smiled. "Now, climb on it. This is what's called mounting." He demonstrated again.

Harry clambered on, and righted himself finally. Then he adjusted his grip. "Is this right, daddy?" Godric came over, fully ready to correct his son's grip on the broom, amazing him when he didn't have to.

"It is, Har. Now push off the ground, and you're flying," Godric told him, pushing off himself, and stopping about ten meters away, waiting for Harry to catch up with him. Harry did, rather quickly in fact.

"Daddy, it's too slow," he complained. "Chryssie's Barbie's car goes faster!"

"Who's Chryssie? What's a Barbie's Car?"

"Chryssie's my cousin. Wait, I mean, I thought she was my cousin. But she was nicer than Dudley and Vernon and Petunia. A Barbie is a doll, and a Barbie's Car is a toy car for the Barbie."

Suddenly, Godric got an evil gleam in his eye. "Harry?"

"Yes dad?"

"Do you think that in the time you went to they'd have faster brooms?"

"Um… probably."

"Harry, hold my hand." Harry did so. "Now think very hard about your time, me and the key to your Gringotts vault."

They'd set up a Gringotts account for Harry, in case he ever got stuck in another time without his parents. Also, even if he was visiting on purpose, he'd have a right time trying to get money, so it seemed the best option.

Harry looked properly confused at his father's request, but obliged. "Are you thinking?" Godric asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay, try a different approach. Think of them all together, and want them." Harry shrugged, and did so.

There was a flash of white light, and they re-appeared in a cupboard which seemed to be under stairs.

July: 1985

"Where are we, Harry?" asked Godric.

"This is my bedroom at the Dursley's." Harry informed him. "Can you open the lock? Uncle Vernon locked me in a moment ago, or that's what he thinks. I magicked us to just after I left."

Godric looked outraged at the thought of his son being treated like he was, but obliged, and tapped the door with his wand while saying, 'Alohamora.'

Once they were out of the house, Godric rushed Harry into an alleyway. "Now Harry, you know how your mother and I told you that you were a Metamorphmagus, and we started to tell you how to use it?"

"Yes."

"Well, now I'm going to place glamour charms on myself. I want you then to make yourself look like a younger version of me, and make sure you cover that scar, it could get me in trouble."

Godric got out his wand, and pointed at his eyes, they turned blue. Then he did his hair, which went auburn, short and curly. Then he became a little shorter, and his muscles decreased.

"Just a younger version of what I look like, Harry, except my eyes. Make your eyes look like mine did before."

Harry closed his eyes, and screwed up his forehead. A few moments later, he looked like a younger version of his father, only with different eyes. Godric nodded satisfied. "Now all we need are names. I'm… Gregory Grouter and you are Harvey Grouter." He stated his thought out loud, looking to Harry to see if that was alright. It was.

Then Godric grabbed Harry's hand, and spoke a spell, and they appeared in Diagon Alley's Apparition point.

They walked to Gringotts, and the goblin that served them took them deep down to one of the first vaults. When they opened the door, Harry and Godric, or should I say Harvey and Gregory, gaped. The vault was filled from floor to ceiling of gold galleons, with not a spare gap in the thing. Godric did what any sensible man would do, and piled as many as he could into a bottomless bag, before Harry told him he was getting carried away, and he was, he had far more than 1000 galleons in the sack.

When they left Gringotts, they went into a store called, 'Quality Quidditch Supplies'.

Godric looked around. Seeing the new model, the Cleansweep Seven, he shrugged. "Hello, I would like two Cleansweep Sevens, it's my son's birthday soon, and our old brooms are a little outdated." He told the man at the counter smoothly. Harry didn't comment, knowing instinctively that he was supposed to go along with it. He had been walking around the shop, looking at the other brooms, and their models and speeds.

"Yes, many people are having that same problem; may I ask what broom you have?" he asked conversationally.

Harry decided to butt in, for his father's sake. "Shooting Star!"

Godric/Gregory grinned, ruffling his son's hair. "There's the little tyke for you." He smiled, remembering something he'd overheard someone saying before.

"Well, mate, that'll be 90 galleons. Paying upfront?"

"Yes."

"Alrighty then, just fill out this form, mister…?"

"Grouter. Gregory Grouter."

"Right then, Mr. Grouter. What's the son's name?"

"Harvey."

"Nice name, that. Here, Harvey, like a sweet?" The man offered Harry a sugar snitch.

Harry looked at Godric, who nodded his head.

"Yes please, thank you," Harry took the snitch from the man, and popped it in his mouth, delighting in the melting sugary taste. Godric filled out the forms. They basically asked for name, proof of age, and promise not to resell, which was sealed with a wizard's signature, basically, a signature which is connected to it's writer so that it cannot be forged or a promise made by it cannot be broken.

Then Harry and Godric left the shop. They went back to the Dursleys house, Godric explaining to Harry that he wanted to 'deal' with his Aunt and Uncle.

Changing back to their original looks, Godric rang the doorbell of no. four, Privet Drive. Aunt Petunia was the one unfortunate enough to open the door. Upon seeing who it was she screamed freakishly before fainting.

"Who's that, frightening my dear Petunia?" asked a gruff voice from inside.

Godric took out his wand and pointed it at Petunia. "Enervate!" he commanded, and Petunia was back with the land of the conscious. Vernon was now at the door, Dudley and Chrysanthemum trying to get a peek also. Harry had turned himself invisible.

"You!" gasped Petunia. "You died five years ago!"

"I'm not quite sure where you got that information, but it seems to be wrong. I think it was more like a thousand years ago that I died." Godric informed her pleasantly. "A little time travel is always quite useful."

Petunia looked like a fish, her mouth opening and closing comically. There was a giggle from beside Godric, and Harry removed his invisibility. "Hello, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, Dudley, Chryssie." He spoke to their faces, which were at the current moment, very good impressions of fish.

"Have you met my father?"

Dudley and Chrysanthemum's eyes bulged, and Vernon's face went purple. "Why you…" he shouted, and lifted his hand, ready to strike the boy. Godric put up his hand, easily stopping the obese man.

"What were you about to do to my son?" he demanded.

Vernon looked at the strong man in front of him, whose eyes were blazing with a fire. "N-Nothing." He shook as he spoke the words.

Godric's eyes narrowed, and he raised his eyebrows. "I don't believe I've introduced myself, Dursley. My name is Godric Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor," Petunia stated thoughtfully. "Where've I heard that before, Lily did mention someone called Gryffindor, but I don't believe she ever went out with him. You look like her husband."

"James Potter. Quite right. Lily, that's your sister?"

Petunia nodded fearfully.

"Now see here, woman. I don't like the way you treated my son. If you're ever cruel to him again, you will not be able to move for five minutes, understand?" he asked her, casting the spell at the same time, not really caring what she had to say.

Chrysanthemum looked at Harry. "That's cool! Can you teach me to be invisible too?" she asked her cousin, who shook his head.

"Sorry, Chryssie. You've got to have magic."

Chrysanthemum looked slightly disappointed, but seeing the looks on Petunia and Vernon's face when he had asked, he shut up.

Godric also saw the looks. "And don't even think of hurting Chryssie for asking. She's only curious." He told them, before turning to Harry.

"Harry, if you don't mind, it'd be nice if we could go back home now. I'm sure you won't miss these Muggles." Harry took one last look at the Dursley's before shaking his head, and disappearing in a brilliant flash of white light.

The Dursleys apart from Chryssie looked around fearfully, hoping that the neighbours hadn't seen anything, and to their relief, no-one had, no one except a certain Squib.

July: 1985

Arabella Figg had seen been walking around the block, looking for one of her missing cats. Dibbles had been in Privet Drive, and she'd just been about to walk into the street, when she saw a man that looked like James Potter, and young Harry standing next to him, disappear in a flash of white light.

She immediately got out her pot of floo powder, and threw it in her fire. "Albus Dumbledore!" she called, and the wizened old man's head appeared in the fire.

"Ah, Arabella. Good afternoon. Did you know that your name means'beautiful altar'? I saw it in one of my Latin-English dictionaries the other day." He informed her pleasantly.

"Lemon drop?" He held out the bowl through the fire.

"Thank you Albus, but I'm afraid I have more important matters to discuss than the origin of my name," she told him in clipped tones, turning down the bowl of lemon drops, and pushing it back to him through the fire.

"Very well," he popped a lemon drop into his mouth, sucking it noisily like a child. "Ugh! Charcoal."

"What is it?" he asked after turning and spitting out the bit of charcoal.

"It's Mister Potter. I was looking for Dibbles, and walked past his street. Oh Albus, you wouldn't believe what I saw."

"What did you see, my dear?" he asked, unconcerned, the wards had remained constant, and there had been no disturbance in all the time he had been living there, admittedly, that was a little unusual, but it was probably because the boy had probably had a very stable lifestyle.

"Don't give me that! Now you listen here, and stop calling me, 'your dear,' I am no-one's dear!" Arabella shouted at the old man in frustration.

Albus almost choked on his lemon drop, and spat it out. Unfortunately, it came through Arabella's end, and landed on her lap, more fortunately, there was a cat there, who got up abruptly, snarled at the headmaster, and walked around trying to lick it off it's coat spitting at the sour lemon taste frequently.

Arabella glared at the headmaster, and continued on her triad. "Now that I have your attention," she looked at him fiercely, and he nodded. "I would like to continue my story. As I was saying, I was looking for Dibbles, and I saw the strangest thing at Privet Drive. Now, don't tell me I was imagining it, because I know very well that I wasn't. Do you remember what James Potter looked like?"

Albus nodded slowly. "Where is this going?"

"Just listen, you old coot! I remember what James Potter looked like as well, and I am not lying when I say that I saw him on the doorstep of Privet Drive."

'Arabella has quite a temper,' thought Albus, then choked on his lemon drop again, this time spitting into his hand, realising what she had told him.

"James Potter? Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, you blasted, insane… dolt!" she exploded. "And what's more is that Harry was standing next to him."

"I fail to see what your point is."

"If you'd let me finish, maybe you would, you fool!"

Dumbledore looked at her sulkily. "Continue," he crossed his arms across his chest. "Though I do think you're quite mad," he mumbled under his breath.

"NO! You are the one who's quite mad! As I was saying, there was a flash of white light, and they disappeared!" she threw her hands up. "It was as if they'd never been there!"

This was obviously not what Dumbledore had expected, and she had the pleasure of seeing his face drain of all colour, which it had little of in the first place.

"Are you sure?" he whispered in a small voice, and she exploded again.

"Didn't I make it clear that I was sure, Albus! Honestly!" she cried.

"I've had enough of you. Do what you like, but I just don't care anymore!" she told him, before returning the fire to it's normal state.

Albus Dumbledore removed his head from the fire, and sat back in his chair, suddenly feeling very old.

"Where has Harry Potter gone?" he asked himself.

Sighing loudly, he lifted his ancient body from the chair and stood, making his way slowly out of his quarters.

He gathered up several trusted members of the staff, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape, much to his distaste, and Madame Pomfrey were among his company. Once the situation had been explained to them, they all agreed immediately that they would have to pay a visit to Privet Drive.

The 'tribe' of five witches and wizards arrived roughly two hours later, all falling out of the knight bus, having not apparated due to the fact that it was densely Muggle populated area, and the middle of the day, no less.

Dumbledore picked himself up delicately, and straightened his brightly coloured robes (yellow, green, red and blue) and turned to those behind him, who were following his example, though their robes were more appropriately coloured. "Shall we?" he asked, before striding up to the door of Privet Drive. He waited for the others to catch him up, and rang the doorbell.

They heard a voice from inside. "Diddydums! Get the door, if it's those freaks again, tell them to go away and lock them out!"

"Yes, Mummy," came the reply. They all looked at one another dubiously. Diddydums? Snape wanted to be sick. Freaks? Who was he calling a freak?

A portly boy, wait, portly was a little understated, the largest boy they'd ever seen, waist wise, not height, opened the door. He looked to be about five years old, and his head was covered by a clump of blonde hair, which made him look scary, because he had a red face. A little girl, who was also chubby, but not quite as much, with long blonde hair seemed to have followed him.

Snape smirked. 'This kid will never lose all that weight. Does he eat anything that's worthwhile?'

"Who're you?" asked the boy, sounding stupider than a two year old. The girl observed with wide eyes.

"We would like to speak to your parents, please. And no, we're not 'those freaks,' as your mother so quaintly put it," Snape commanded harshly.

'Diddydums' rushed into the house, the running after him, and his parents appeared at the door. The woman's face paled, while the man's went beet red. It was almost as if he were taking her colour from her face and putting it on his own.

"Good afternoon," Dumbledore greeted pleasantly, grimacing slightly when he remembered the last time he'd said that. "May we come in?"

Petunia nodded, slowly, putting a hand on her husband's shoulder, stopping him from exploding.

Dumbledore, however, failed to see this, and stepped straight in, motioning for those with him to do the same.

"I would like to see Harry, please." He said, and the others looked at him. Didn't he know that Harry wasn't there?

Petunia looked positively terrified. "H-h-h-e isn't here," she stuttered.

"Well then, where is he?" snapped Snape, ever his impatient self.

"Why, don't you know! I was under the impression that your kind took him. Claimed to be his father," Vernon informed them arrogantly.

The Professors shot glances at each other. "Care to elaborate?" McGonagall requested. Petunia stopped her husband from answering with a slight shake of her head, before answering.

"The man looked remarkably like Harry's father. He came to us. I answered the door. I can't remember what happened next. They must have done some freak thing.

"They left soon after, I couldn't have stopped them if I tried! The man simply told the boy that he wanted to go home, the boy looked at us, and they disappeared in a flash of light!" Petunia's story seemed a bit far fetched, but it did match up with Arabella's, so maybe it had happened.

"Did the man tell you what his name was?" asked Flitwick, evidently his inquisitive Ravenclaw nature was showing through again.

"I already told you! I can't remember anything else that happened," she snarled after a brief pause.

"Do you mind if I read your mind to try and find it then?" asked Dumbledore.

Petunia looked as though she did mind, but Snape would have none of that. "Albus, forgive me for being blunt, but we are not going to get anything by asking, let me handle it."