'This is a LOTE'
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 Seven
Shopping Harry
August: 1991
By Sunday, three days later, Hermione had managed to work up an excitement to rival that of a Quidditch fan at the World Cup. Mr and Mrs Granger told Harry that they were glad they were going to get it over and done with, because Hermione had been gushing endlessly at work when the patients couldn't see or hear. Harry smiled knowingly and offered to give Hermione a free session as a gift, at which point Mr and Mrs Granger, Em, and Liz all burst out in laughter. Hermione frowned crossly at Harry, throwing herself into the car and crossing her arms over her chest. Harry was also rather excited. He hadn't had a chance to check if all his favourite shops were still standing, and he wanted to look in Quality Quidditch Supplies. Because he and Hermione and Mr and Mrs Granger all worked a six day week, they couldn't have gone earlier, as they really needed the whole day. Em and Liz were just about as excited. "Will we be witches too Harry?" they begged imploringly. Harry gave an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders and grinned at them lopsidedly, distracting them by pulling coins and notes from midair and handing them to them.
Navigating their way through the swarms of clouds, Harry brought them through London and eventually came to a halt in front of a small and dirty pub. Hermione turned to Harry with an expression of utmost delight on her face, as Harry had explained it to her before. "Here we are," he announced. Em and Liz screwed up their noses, looking at the dusty windows and rusted tin roof with disdain. Mr and Mrs Granger looked at him as though he was crazy, as, being Muggles, all they saw was a waste production plant and were inclined to look away. It was a modified version of the Fidelius Charm, Harry knew, and those who had knowledge of the wizarding world and the magic in their blood could see it. Others had to have it pointed out to them.
Harry calmly explained this to the amazed Grangers, who could see it the moment Harry had told them what it was. Harry gestured for them to follow him, and stepped inside the pub. He breathed in the scent of the pub, and had a sudden urge for a butterbeer.
"I'm going to have a Butterbeer. Would you like one?" he asked the Grangers.
"What's that?" Mr Granger asked curriously.
"It's a sweet drink. It does have a tiny bit of alcohol in it, I admit, but only the slightest touch. You can hardly taste it."
"That sounds nice," he said. Harry turned to Hermione, who nodded.
Then he looked at Mrs Granger enquiringly. "No thanks, Harry. I'll be fine."
"Okay. Do you want anything else then?"
She shook her head. "Are Em and Liz allowed one?"
Mrs Granger nodded, and Em nodded happily while Liz threw herself on Harry's leg. "Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou!"
Harry laughed, and pulled her up onto the bar stool, then threw his hand into the air. "I'll have five butterbeers, please."
"Certainly, sir." The barman replied, and went over to get them. Three minutes later he returned with five overflowing glasses.
"That comes to 9 sickles."
Harry rummaged around in his pocket for a moment, before producing a large gold coin. The man returned it with 8 silver coins. Mr Granger was eager, and questioned Harry fanatically about the Wizarding World and their customs. Harry answered as truthfully as he could, except for when Mr Granger asked who the most popular celebrities in the wizarding world were.
At that point in time, the barman butted in, polishing a glass while he spoke, obviously deeming himself expert and misinterpreting Harry's hesitation as ignorance.
"Well," he started. "We got the less famous people like Cornelius Fudge and Gilderoy Lockhart, and Sebastian Dallas. Fudge is the Minister for Magic, and Lockhart writes books about his many adventures. Dallas is a politician. Then we got our famous historical people like the Hogwarts founders, and Merlin. We also got people on the Chocolate Frog cards, there's one of Merlin, and there's Albus Dumbledore, he's the headmaster o' Hogwarts, Morganna, Circe, n' Paracelus are all on cards too. There's plenty more, s'well."
He paused for a moment to hand someone a drink and pick up another glass. "But they ain't the most famous. No, no, the most famous are the Traveller, You-Know-Who and,"
"I'm sorry, I don't know who," interrupted Mr Granger.
"Voldemort," Harry whispered to him, downing the rest of his drink. "We'd better go now," he said in hurriedly, jumping off his stool and grabbing Hermione and Liz in order to hurry them out. Mr Granger put his hand on Harry's shoulder.
"No, hold on. The good man's about to tell me who the other famous person is."
Harry looked around nervously, as if searching for a way to escape without letting them know that he was the Traveller too. "And Harry Potter," finished the barman, setting down his glass.
All five Grangers turned to Harry. "Harry Potter?" asked Hermione incredulously.
"Sorry?" he offered, running a hand through his hair, exposing his lightning bolt scar to the barman.
"Bless my soul," he whispered. "I've been talking to Harry Potter all along and I didn't know it."
The bar had fallen completely silent. For a few seconds there was no noise, then there was a scraping of chairs as people scrambled to get up to see Harry.Harry. Harry flushed a bright red, and muttered something about getting out of there while it was still possible. Pushing Em and Liz out the back door, he shook the proffered hands as he himself squeezed out of the door. Hermione and Mr and Mrs Granger followed quickly.
They emerged into a courtyard like area, where no-one else was. The three Grangers were looking around warily as if someone was about to pop out of the ground and attack them, while they were distracted, Harry opened the gateway to Diagon Alley.
While still very familiar to Harry, he was disappointed to realise that many of his favourite shops had disappeared over the thousand odd years, including Everything. He was, however, pleased to note that Hencoops Handbooks was still around, and upon further inspection, Clara Chesnee's was as well.
The Grangers were still looking at Harry for an explanation on why he was famous, not that they knew he was two of the three most famous people, so he began his story, giving them the extremely short version.
"Well, you know Voldemort? He was a wizard who went bad. He killed of a lot of people, including my parents. But the thing was, he tried to kill me as well, that same night. Instead, the curse didn't kill me, and rebounded it onto its creator, and defeated him. That's why I'm famous, 'cos my parents died and I didn't."
"Harry, that's awful!" Mrs Granger and Hermione said simultaneously.
Harry resisted the urge to roll his eye, and shifted uncomfortably. "Er… yea. Let's go to Gringotts, shall we?"
They made their way to the building, Mr Granger enquiring fanatically about the goblins along the way.
Harry encountered a slight problem. If he, as Harry Potter, went to the Travellers vault, people would realise that he was the Traveller, if they hadn't already.
He bit the inside of his cheek for a moment, before coming up with an idea. Using his wandless magic, he used an adapted 'accio'. A cold gold key appeared in his hand, and he went up to the counter, and placed it on the counter. "I'd like to withdraw some money from my vault, please," he said.
"Griphook!" a goblin came out. "Escort Mr Potter and his guests down to his vault."
The journey was swift, and upon arriving at Harry's vault, the goblin exited the cart.
"Lamp, please."
Mr Granger was pleased to comply, and handed Griphook the old oil lamp.
"Key please," Harry handed Griphook the key, and he inserted it into the lock.
Green moke came billowing out of the vault, and Harry peered inside to the gold.
Though Harry had amassed more than a million galleons in his time, which was equivalent to 10 billion or something in this time, he was still quite impressed by the wealth that lay inside the vault. He estimated that there were ten thousand galleons, give or take a few thousand. Quickly, not wanting to flaunt his wealth, he filled up a bottomless bag, well, not exactly filled, but nevertheless it became quite heavy.
They left the vault not long afterwards, and the Grangers exchanged some money.
Their first stop was Ollivanders, to get wands. They entered the dusty shop, and a chime tingled. After about two minutes, a man appeared out of seemingly nowhere, which would phase most muggles, however, the Grangers were merely interested as to how they did it.
Mr Ollivander began measuring up Hermione, and turned to Harry. "Ah…Harry Potter. I have been expecting you, ever since your… unfortunate…disappearance.
Harry raised his eyebrows, and leaned over, whispering in his ear. "I already have one of your creations, Mr Ollivander. Perhaps there is somewhere more private we can talk?"
Mr Ollivander was a very inquisitive type of person, which was one of the qualities that made him such a great wand maker, he was not afraid to try unusual combinations, and he lived to know what kind of wand people had. Added to the fact that he had photographic memory when it came to wands and their owners, he was sure that Harry had never come to him, thus intriguing him further.
"Come this way, Mr Potter," he said loudly, putting several wands on the bench for Hermione to try. "You'll know which one is right, but I won't be long." He said, leading Harry out to his workshop. He drew up a chair, literally, for Harry, and sat on his own spindly one. "May I see your wand, Mister Potter?"
Harry handed it over, and said. "You may. What I am about to say is very private, and I can't have anyone overhearing. Please place some anti-spying wards up, Mr Ollivander."
Mr Ollivander got out his own wand, waving it whilst muttering some things, then, he turned back to Harry. "Please continue, Mr Potter,"
"That," Harry told him, "Is precisely the problem. If you look at my wand closely, you'll notice that I am not Harry Potter. In fact, Harry Potter doesn't exist, except on paper."
Mr Ollivander frowned, and looked at the wand. The first thing he noticed was the wood. The tree that it had been made from was extinct by 500 years. Most people would not notice this, as it bore a great likeness to Oak, but Parcelus Oak was actually very magical, and had very different properties to Oak. The only reason Mr Ollivander himself recognised it was because he worked with wood so often, and had learnt to distinguish between the slightest difference in woods. He could tell if wood came from the same tree as another piece, he was that skilled.
His eyes widened at the implications. "How did you get a wand like that?"
"Well," Harry explained. "It was quite simple. Father took me to Ollivanders one fine day about 1000 years ago, and Maximilian Ollivander sold me this wand as it was right for me."
Ollivanders head spun. "What are you talking about?"
"I suppose, I should start from the beginning. When I was five, nearly six, I discovered one of my rarer abilities. I became the Traveller, and transported myself to my parents time. Though, the only problem was that my parents weren't Lily and James Potter. See, they were Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw. Time passed…blah blah blah. That's basically the story."
Ollivander surveyed hi through eyes that held a bug like eeriness. "I see, Mr Gryffindor. You are assuming the name Potter, I assume? That would mean you need a wand to use in this time."
Harry nodded. "Correct." They tried several wands, before Harry found one that looked similar to his other wand, before going back out to the Grangers, who had not seemed to notice that any time had passed. Ollivander glanced at Harry quickly, and Harry confirmed that he had been holding them in a time bubble.
Hermione had just found the wand for her. It was willow, with a unicorn tail hair. Ollivander wrapped it up, muttering 'Curious, curious.'
Hermione could never stand a mystery, and asked him immediately. "Sir, what's curious?"
"Well, Hermione, it would be that the unicorn that gave the tail hair gave just four other hairs. It is curious that I have sold this wand today, when the other four have also been sold recently. It is very curious indeed, and even Mr Gry-Potter holds one of these wands in all its glory."
Harry grinned at Hermione, and made some hand signals, which they both knew meant, 'tell you later.'
She signed back quickly. 'You'd better, and why did he start saying another name?'
'Never mind, I'll tell you at Christmas.'
Hermione made angry signals back at him, before she gave up.
The rest of the day was spent shopping for school products, extra books, and eating scrumptious ice cream.
August: 1991
Albus Dumbledore scratched his chin with his quill, before looking back at the staff. They were in the middle of a meeting. "That's all very well and good, Minerva, but–", he stopped mid sentence, staring in stunned silence at the fluffy blue owl that had just flown in the window.
The owl landed in front of Professor McGonagall, and she looked at in surprise. Seeing her name on the back of the envelopes, she removed the letters, and went to break the seal. Unfortunately, she was distracted by the sudden change in the owl. It had turned into a Muggle contraption that was similar to a quill.
The whole of the staff stared at it for a few seconds. Finally, McGonagall spoke. "That was a rather shabby piece of work," she sniffed, turning back to her mail. The wax seal opened with ease, and she pulled out a slip of parchment, stared at it for a moment, before reading it out loud.
"Dear Professor McGonagall,
I, Harry Potter, accept my place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Sincerely, Harry Potter."
Silence followed her 'announcement'.
Snape was the first to react, with a rather predictable smirk. "So the little brat decided to turn up after all."
Professor Dumbledore glared at him, silencing him easily. "Is there any other clue as to where he's been?"
McGonagall shook her head. Snape rolled his eyes. "Hello? Are you all blind imbeciles? There is another letter!"
Flushing brightly, McGonagall picked up the letter, broke the seal, and read it aloud.
"Dear Professor McGonagall,
I, Hermione Granger, accept my place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I will be going with my friend, Harry Potter, to collect my school things, so do not bother sending someone.
Sincerely, Hermione Granger."
"See? Potter is a brat. Even his friends are rude!" Snape cried gleefully.
He was on the receiving end of many glares. "There's something funny about this though, Albus," Minerva directed her words to the elderly headmaster.
"What is it, Minerva?"
"Well, although I can tell that the note was written by the same person, probably Potter, since he'd have explained to the Grangers about the magic world, the style of writing seems slightly odd." Dumbledore looked confused, and held out his hand.
McGonagall passed up the slips of parchment, and the headmaster straightened his glasses. He peered at the slips of parchment for some time, before placing them on the table, and leaning back in his chair. "Mr Potter is proving very elusive indeed."
"What is so strange about the letter?" Snape asked.
"It is not the words, Severus, but the fashion in which they are written."
Snape rolled his eyes. "Please. I'd rather not have to work out your riddle."
"The writing feels distinctly old fashioned, and the letters are formed the way they would have been 1000 years ago."
Snape stopped, the words, '1000 years', pulling him into memory. They were at Potter's former residence. "Albus, forgive me for being blunt, but we are not going to get anything by asking, let me handle it." he said.
Immediately, he used Legilimency on the woman, sneering at her defencelessness. 'Alright, now… memories pertaining to Potter with his father… there, she was thinking about them so it would be far easier'. He took a peek. She was resisting, a mere muggle was resisting. He looked around at the way her mind was organised, everything was behind doors, which swung open easily at the drop of a hat. So, when he looked at the door of Potter and his father, he thought it could be just as easy. However, it was not. The door was firmly closed. His spiritual self pulled out its wand, and whispered the unlocking charm. Nothing. Instead, a sign appeared above the door that read, 'Locked for repairs. Come again at a later date.'
This in itself had confused him, and he had said so to the headmaster. "Continue, Severus. I am sure that you can break open her mind with a little force."
"Yes, Albus," he sighed. He pried once again into the woman's mind, but found the same thing as before. The process continued for several hours, until the woman had learnt to block him out completely. However, in this process, she had unlocked the door that he was trying to open.
He gleefully advanced upon her mind, barging in very indiscreetly. However, the search was fruitless. The woman had completely and utterly erased the incident from her mind. If he didn't know better, he would say she'd been obliviated, but it was too precise what she'd forgotten, and it was as if she was trying to forget them anyway.
He turned back to the meeting at hand, being brought out of his thoughts by Professor Sprout's comments. "I also find it strange that Potter would transfigure an owl, or that he could even do so."
Dumbledore looked to be considering it. "Well, as far as we can tell, young Harry was taken in by a time travelling wizard, perhaps the Traveller himself. The Traveller may have done the transformation for him."
"Honestly Albus, do you really think that the Traveller would care about Potter? After all, when he visited me when I was at school, he never showed a particular liking to James Potter. Seemed to avoid him, in fact." That was Severus. It was common knowledge that the Traveller had visited a lot of prominent people in their childhoods, and shaped many of their lives, Snape's seventh year had been one that the Traveller had visited.
"Not everyone holds their parents against them, Severus," McGonagall sniffed.
"Sure they don't. I bet you think that Potter will be in Gryffindor," Severus shot back. "Just because he's so much like his father."
"Well," said McGonagall. "It's been quite obvious since he defeated You-Know-Who that he would be in Gryffindor. After all, it is a brave deed, and Gryffindor accepts those with 'brave deeds to their name."
Flitwick decided to put his own word in. "It all depends on the child's upbringing. For all we know, he could be placed in Ravenclaw."
"You'd love that wouldn't you, the famous Harry Potter in your house, hey, Dwarfie."
"I am not a dwarf, thank you very much! I believe the term is Vertically Challenged!"
"Vertically Challenged my arse! If you were any shorter, you'd be into negatives!"
"SILENCE!" Dumbledore roared. "That is ENOUGH! What comes will come and we'll meet it when it does! Now, onto less pressing matters…"
Revised: January 2006