Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to the beloved Australian daredevil himself, Steve Irwin, The Crocodile Hunter. He lived a life of wrestling crocodiles, a life which any real man would envy. Unfortunately, he got stabbed by a stingray and was not decapitated by some sort of obscure reptile, as I'm sure he would have preferred. Oh well. He pulled the stingray's barb out of his heart didn't he? Now that's a real man. So here's to Steve Irwin, the real man inside us all.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (though I wish I did), Back to the Future or their various quotes (I wish I owned that too...), Pickachu (I CHOOSE YOU!), the basic description of solar cells that I stole from Wikipedia, The Force (use it, don't abuse it), Rugby (what, no sticks?), or anything else that's too expensive for me to own.

A/N: Okay, so, because a few certain friends of mine believe that I belittle myself in the author notes, I'm not allowed to do that anymore. Darn. So I'll just continue on then. Right. Ahem…so because of my complete and utter glorious, fabulous, magnificent, and all around outstanding talent for writing, I've made the best bloody chapter on this whole damn site! I mean, come on, it should be published! It's that good. Really. In fact, it should be published and given an award for Best Damn Fanfiction Chapter that Ever Existed! And I should get to be Queen of all the Universe and you all should have get down on your knees and worship and adore me for being such an amazing writing genius. And you should give me chocolate. Man, I suck at un-belittling myself.

Just pulling your legs guys (That brings some suggestive images to my mind, Eugh)! I'm just being a brat.

oOoOoOo

"Harry…"

"Who's there?" shouted Harry, shivering slightly. A sea of mist swirled around him so that he couldn't see anything beyond three feet of himself.

"Harry…" called a ghostly voice. It sounded slightly familiar to Harry, as if he knew it from somewhere…

Harry whipped around, squinting his eyes so that he might be able to see who was calling him. "I said who's there? Answer me!"

"Harry…"

Harry frowned. "That's a bit repetitive don't you think? Can't you think of anything, I dunno, more specific?"

"Harry…"

"Figures," muttered Harry darkly.

"Harry…" It sounded closer. If Harry concentrated on one area, he found that he could make out several shadows surrounding him. They were dancing about, swirling around and around Harry as he walked. They looked rather beautiful in an exotic and wild kind of way. But they seemed to be a great distance away from Harry so he decided not to worry about them yet. He was mostly concerned about the voice, the one which sounded closer by the moment.

Harry gasped. In the fog he could see that one shadow was fast approaching him. His first instinct was to run, and that's what he did. He blundered through the mist, stumbling and tripping, just trying to get as far away from the ghostly voice as he could. At last his carelessness caught up with him, and he tripped, tumbling on the hard, cold ground…

The shadow drew nearer and nearer to Harry, it was so close Harry could make out a blurry silhouette. It was a woman, with long flowing hair that seemed to float in midair like a ghost.

"Harry…"

"Mum?" asked Harry. It sure looked like his mother from what he could see. "Where-why-what do you want?"

"I want out of this bloody dress!" exclaimed the voice furiously, instantly losing it's ghostly manner.

"…What?"

The figure loomed over Harry and he gasped. It wasn't his mother, but it was Ron, looking particularly murderous in his Tooth Fairy outfit.

"R-Ron?" stammered Harry. "Why are you here?"

"Why didn't you answer me?" demanded Ron.

"I asked you first."

"Yes but I have a wand and you don't," snapped Ron, pulling out a rubber chicken.

"Ron that's not-"

"Shut it!" yelled Ron, shaking the rubber chicken at Harry. "I called and you ignored me, and all I want is out of this dress! Some friend you are."

"But Ron you don't understand-"

"Oh I understand alright," whispered Ron, grinning evilly.

"Ron what-?"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"AHHH!" cried Harry, waking up with a start. Harry wiped his sweaty forehead, looking around in a panicked sort of way. He sighed, realizing it was all just a ridiculous dream. He was still in the Room of Requirement (the trio had decided to sleep there while they were still back in time) and the rooms were still hideously red and orange (unfortunately every time they used it, it was still decorated the same as before, no matter how many times they smacked Ron upside the head). Everything was fine and he wasn't going to be murdered by Ron...

"Harry?" exclaimed Ron.

Harry whipped around (cricking his neck in the process. He's doing quite a lot of whipping in this chapter, isn't he?). Squinting in the dark, he could see Ron sitting in a chair beside his bed and holding a bucket of popcorn in his limp hands. "Ron…were you…were you watching me dream?"

Ron grinned sheepishly and hid the popcorn behind his back. "W-what makes you say that Harry?"

"You're eating popcorn and sitting next to my bed. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"It was kinda funny."

Harry scowled. "You could have woken me up you know, I was having a nightmare."

"I know."

Harry shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. The after effects of the nightmare were still making him groggy. Why did he always have to have the weird nightmares?

'In fact' thought Harry, ready to wallow in a pool of self-pity for the rest of the night. 'I always have to do all the hard stuff. I have to get my parents together so I can exist, even though it was all Ron's fault. He deserves to wear the stupid dress, the git. I always have to do difficult things, like pretend to be my father's cousin who was mentally damaged by a truck of traveling mimes (cue the author, grinning wickedly behind her laptop). My own mother has a crush on me. And now I have to go to the dance with her! The only way I could get her and my dad together was if she thought I was a big prat. Fat chance of-hold on…'

"Ron!" shouted Harry abruptly, causing Ron to jump and spill his popcorn.

"…Yes…?"

"Where's Hermione? I think I have a plan."

oOoOoOo

"I still don't understand," frowned James, knitting his brows together. "How am I supposed to go to the dance with her, if she's already going to the dance with you?"

"Cause, James," explained Harry. "She wants to go to the dance with you; she just doesn't…know it yet. That's why we got to show her that you, James Potter, are a fighter. You're somebody who's gonna stand up for yourself, someone who's gonna protect her."

"Are you sure she needs to be protected?" asked James, brows still furrowed. "Because this one time I tried to give her a goodnight kiss, and then she used this spell that practically tore off my-"

"James stay focused," interjected Harry quickly. He didn't want to hear what his mother did to his father's various body parts. "You're not gonna try to kiss her, Dad-dad-dad-daddy-o…you're coming to her rescue, right? Okay, let's go over the plan again. 8:55, where are you gonna be?"

James sighed, flopping onto his bed. "I'm gonna be at the dance."

"Right, and where am I gonna be?" prompted Harry, pacing agitatedly around James' dorm.

"You're gonna be in the Hogwarts Garden, with her."

"Correct," continued Harry. "Okay, so right around 9:00 she's gonna get very angry with me."

"Why is she gonna get angry with you?" questioned James curiously.

Harry paused shortly before he answered. "…Well, because nice girls get angry when guys take advantage of them..."

James gasped, eyes widening. "You mean you're going to touch her on her-"

"No, no, James," said Harry hastily. "Look, it's just an act, right? Okay, so 9:00 you're strolling through the garden, you see us…struggling…in the bushes, you walk up and you say...?"

James stared at Harry, waiting for him to continue.

"Your line, James…" muttered Harry, rubbing his forehead.

"OH!" exclaimed James, leaping up from his sitting position. "Uh, hey you, get your damn hands off her…do you really think I oughta swear?"

"James…you cuss all the time…"

"Oh, right, sorry. Just got caught up in the moment…"

"…Okay, so now, you come up, you punch me in the stomach, I'm out for the count, right? And you and Lily live happily ever after!"

"Oh, you make it sound so easy," moaned James. "I just…I wish I wasn't so scared…"

Harry stared at James, incredulous. James Potter? His own father? Scared of a girl? Harry couldn't believe it. "There's nothing to be scared of! All it takes is a little self confidence. You know, if you put your mind to it, you could accomplish anything."

James grinned. "Thanks Harry."

"HARRY!"

Harry whipped around (again), to discover a blur of red and black dashing directly toward him. Without stopping.

"AHHH!" yelled Harry, diving out of the way. The blur halted and dropped to the ground, creating a panting mass of black Hogwarts robes.

Harry picked himself up while James circled the mass cautiously.

"Harry, is this your friend Ron?"

Harry instantly helped the person up. Sure enough, it was Ron. He was trembling, looking positively terrified.

"Ron, what's wrong?" asked Harry, alarmed.

"She's after me Harry!" squealed Ron, grabbing a startled Harry by the middle and using him as a shield for whatever he was scared of.

"Who is?" demanded Harry, a bit miffed at Ron for using him as a shield.

"H-Hermione," stuttered Ron, quivering behind Harry.

Harry was about to ask Ron what was going on when, as if on cue, Hermione stormed in, her expression murderous.

Ron seemed to be trying his best to conceal himself from Hermione, but being at least a foot taller than Harry did have its disadvantages at times.

"Ron, I know you're behind Harry," growled Hermione, rolling her eyes in the skyward direction.

"What did he do this time Hermione?" asked Harry timidly. He didn't want to provoke Hermione's wrath anymore than he had to, but he felt he was obligated to know what chaos Ron had cast upon them. "Aren't you and Ron supposed to be helping Lupin with the Time Turner?" Harry almost snorted at his own words. Hermione was supposed to be helping Lupin. The only reason Ron tagged along was to ensure that he didn't get into any trouble, a plan that had obviously failed.

"Dear Ronald," snarled Hermione, causing Ron to wince. "-decided that a school-wide game of Rugby was in order. Complete with sticks."

"Rugby?" repeated Harry blankly. "But…Rugby isn't played with sticks…"

"I know," hissed Hermione, shooting glares at Ron's cowering form.

"Erm…what is Rugby?" asked James cautiously.

Harry shoved Ron off him, turning to James. "It's a very unfortunately violent muggle sport."

"Yes," agreed Hermione crossly. "And it's not played with STICKS either."

Ron flinched, however James looked delighted. "Hey Harry, do you mind if I join?"

"Uh, no, go ahead," replied Harry, giving his father a slightly bewildered glance.

"Thanks," yelled James over his shoulder, already sprinting out the door in haste to join the school-wide game of "Rugby".

"So…how did this affect the school exactly?" questioned Harry grimly, not really sure if he wanted the answer.

"Well," sighed Hermione. "Besides the fact the almost the whole school is whacking each other with sticks, claiming to be playing Rugby-" Hermione gave Ron a scowl "- the so-called 'game' has interrupted many events that were going on at the moment, many events that happened in our history. Events that may lead to certain occasions that eventually happen in the future. The future that happens to be our present!"

Hermione stopped her ranting for a moment or two, panting slightly. Harry and Ron stared at her, perplexed and not comprehending a word she said.

Hermione gazed at the two of them. "Didn't you understand me? I made myself perfectly clear!"

Harry and Ron exchanged bewildered looks.

"Why do men always have to act like such retards?" asked Hermione exasperatingly, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Actually, we don't have to," stated Ron wryly. "We just do it because we enjoy it. It's the old fashioned pride in a job well done that's missing in so much of the world nowadays."

Harry nodded and it was Hermione's turn to look confused.

"…Anyway," said Hermione slowly, shaking her head as if to clear it. "Rugby isn't what we need to worry about right now. We need to figure out how to generate 1.21 gigawatts into the Time Turner at the moment."

"But Hermione," cried Harry, pulling at his hair dramatically. "We don't know anything about this kind of stuff. It's you and Lupin who have enough brains to figure this out, not us!"

"But I thought you guys just told me that you were being stupid on purpose!" exclaimed Hermione.

Harry and Ron both cast her the same mysterious grin.

"Men," muttered Hermione under her breath. "So anyway, what can we use to generate 1.21 gigawatts into a Time Turner?"

"What about a plug?" asked Harry. He knew that plugs were electrical, and electrical things were used to charge things. Come on, I mean, Harry wasn't that dumb.

Hermione shook her head. "…No Harry, I don't think that will work…"

"We could use The Force," suggested Ron.

Hermione and Harry turned to stare at Ron.

"It was only a suggestion…" mumbled Ron.

"We could use a Flux Capacitor," offered Harry.

Hermione gave Harry a withering look.

"Hermione what time is it?" asked Ron.

"Why do you ask?"

"I dunno, because of the plot?"

Hermione blinked at Ron for a second or two before glancing at her (solar-powered) watch. She frowned slightly, and Harry could tell that the wheels were turning inside her head. Looking up suddenly she said "Harry, give me your watch."

"What?"

"Give me your watch," repeated Hermione impatiently, holding out her hand.

Harry grumbled to himself and peeled his (solar-powered) watch off his wrist, placing in Hermione's outstretched hand.

Hermione took the watch and examined it carefully. "Just as I thought."

"Hermione," whined Ron. "You still didn't tell me the time…"

"Solar-powered watches contain power cells," declared Hermione triumphantly, ignoring Ron.

"What, no Flux Capacitor?" questioned Harry.

Hermione rubbed her temples. "No Harry, there is no Flux Capacitor. A solar cell is a semiconductor device that converts photons from the sun, or solar light, into electricity. In general a solar cell that includes both solar and non-solar sources of light is termed a photovoltaic cell. Fundamentally, the device needs to fulfill only two functions: photo generation of charge carriers in a light-absorbing material, and separation of the charge carriers to a conductive contact that will transmit the electricity. This conversion is called the photovoltaic effect, and the field of research related to solar cells is known as photovoltaics."

Harry stared at Hermione, confused beyond belief. Beside him stood Ron, swaying slightly at the amount of education that was being drilled into his brain.

"Well?" demanded Hermione, hands on hips. "Doesn't this mean anything to you?"

Harry and Ron shook their heads in unison. Harry was beginning to wonder if going back in time had affected Hermione badly…

Hermione sighed before continuing. "A solar cell is made from a monocrystalline silicon wafer. Solar cells have many applications. They are particularly well suited to, and historically used in, situations where electrical power from the grid is unavailable, such as in remote area power systems, Earth orbiting satellites, handheld calculators, remote radiotelephones and water pumping applications. Assemblies of solar cells on building roofs can be connected through an inverter to the electricity grid, often in a net metering arrangement-"

"Harry," complained Ron. "She's making my brain hurt, make her stop!"

Harry nodded numbly. "Hermione…are you sure you're feeling well? Because we can make a stop at The Hospital Wing if you're not."

"Or maybe St. Mungo's…" muttered Ron darkly.

Hermione shook the watches in their faces. "These watches are solar-powered; therefore, they contain solar cells! Solar cells can be used to generate electricity!"

"Is that a threat?" gasped Ron, crossing his arms.

Hermione pulled her hair frustratingly. "No! Solar cells can be used to generate electricity! As in 1.21 gigawatts!"

"But what does that have to do with anything…?" asked Harry worriedly. He was seriously starting to question Hermione's sanity at the moment.

"It has to do with everything!" cried Hermione, waving the watches around frantically in the air. "It means we can get back to our own time! We can generate 1.21 gigawatts using the solar cells in our solar-powered watches! It's so simple!"

Harry frowned. It didn't seem very simple to him. But then again, this was Hermione talking…

Ron scoffed. "We can't use science to solve our problems! Who does that? We should use magic just like everyone else!"

"Just because we're wizards doesn't mean we can't be open-minded!" argued Hermione. "Besides, I don't see you coming up with any other helpful suggestions."

"I already suggested that we use The Force," huffed Ron. "But you people seem to think that won't help us. Fortunately I have another genius idea, one that's bound to work."

Harry and Hermione simultaneously raised their eyebrows as Ron made his way to the end of room.

"Pickachu! I choose you!" shouted Ron, pulling out a small red ball.

"No Ron!" interjected Hermione, practically diving across the room in order to snatch the ball out of Ron's hands before he could throw it. "We cannot use a fictional monster to solve our problems! This time we need to use science!"

Harry noticed, to his growing dread, that Hermione's eyes were gleaming manically.

"Science," continued Hermione. "Pure, unadulterated, SCIENCE."

"You make it sound scary," Ron pointed out nervously.

Hermione cackled hysterically.

"Harry!" called a voice behind them.

Harry turned around (he was getting tired of whipping, his neck was really starting to hurt) to find a panting Lupin.

"Remus?" blinked Harry. He was still a bit dazed from Hermione's logic, you see.

"I…came…as fast...as I could…" groaned Lupin, holding himself up by leaning on a fearful Ron.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, noting Lupin's exhaustion.

Lupin smiled weakly. "Sorry, I'm not really the physical type. I had to dodge a lot of sticks…something about Rugby…"

Hermione's cackles turned into a fit of coughing and Harry thumped her on the back a couple times before replying. "Er…anyway…what did you need to see me about?"

Lupin left Ron's shoulder and reached into his pocket. "I saw the flyer for the Dance on Saturday. There's been a slight change…"

"What is it?" asked Hermione anxiously, having gotten over her coughing spasm.

"I'm afraid," began Lupin tensely, pulling out a crumpled piece of bright orange paper. "That the dance is now…"

Harry subconsciously held his breath. 'This can't be good…'

"…Themed."

"Themed?" repeated Ron. "What's the theme?"

Lupin gave a small sigh. "It's muggle themed."

Harry blinked. Hermione bit her lip. Ron idly played with his Pickachu ball (no pun intended).

"Do you know what this means?" asked Lupin.

"No, not really," provided Harry.

"This means," moaned Hermione. "That we will have to go shopping."

"Shopping?" echoed Ron.

"Shopping for what?" questioned Harry.

"For clothes," stated Lupin grimly. "You'll need an outfit."

"Well that's not so bad," said Ron indifferently.

Harry grimaced. "Ron…you know you're going as Rhonda, right?"

Ron gasped. "You mean…are you telling me I have to…for…oh Merlin!"

oOoOoOo

A/N: I bet you didn't realize that all those 'solar-powered watch' remarks would be so important to the plot, eh? Well, you were wrong! That's right! (Does the I'm-so-smart-for-incorporating-pointless-specifics-into-the-plot-so-ingeniously dance)…What? It's impossible for two solar-powered watches to generate that much electricity you say? Yes, I do know that. It's just that I couldn't think of anything else-STOP. Must…not…belittle…self…

Ahhh, there we go.

BOW DOWN TO ME!