Chapter Two – Harry's Mission

It was safe to say that Harry Potter was currently very disgruntled. A week had passed since his return to Hogwarts and it was a very hard week indeed. It wasn't because the classes were tough, or because of the various memories he kept replaying in his head when he turned down a certain corridor. No. Harry would have been fine with those things, as he had his best friends for support. The reason for Harry's growing displeasure could be summed up in two words: Draco Malfoy.

Every chance he got, Draco would say something or do something to annoy Harry. And he would only harass Harry, unlike before where he was an equal opportunist, insulting people of all incomes, houses, and blood-creeds. No. Draco's main source for torture was none other than Harry and it was driving the Gryffindor mad.

Harry supposed that part of the reason that it bothered him so much was because he had honestly thought that the Slytherin had changed. Throughout their sixth year in school, Draco had been a pain but towards the end of the year, he seemed human. Harry sympathized with Draco, seeing that he was desperate to protect his family and was forced into following the orders of Lord Voldemort to do so. Even in the months after that, being trapped in Malfoy Manor, Draco refused to identify he and his friends when questioned. He had thought that Draco had turned a new leaf after everything that had happened, but he was wrong and this frustrated Harry more than anything else. Add the fact that most members in his former posse were now either deceased or imprisoned, and Harry was left wondering who it was exactly that Draco was trying to impress with his antics.

Every time they were in the same vicinity, Draco would do something to irritate the other boy. Some days he was bitter and cruel, knocking Harry out of the way and sending icy glares at the back of his head. Other days he would play pranks on the boy, already having torn the Gryffindor's satchel with a spell four times in the span of two days. It was getting to be more than just a nuisance.

And just the other day, Harry had been walking across the courtyard so he could meet up with his friends at Hagrid's hut. But, without notice, Draco had bumped into Harry from behind rather forcefully, sending the Gryffindor to meet the cobblestones face first. Draco laughed his mocking laugh and hurried away with that ever-present smirk of his. It was just about all Harry could do to refrain from hexing the blond boy in retaliation.

So when Harry was called to Headmistress McGonagall's office, the last person he wanted to see was the very same person walking down the steps.

'Ugh… Malfoy…' Harry mentally groaned. 'Just what I needed… more abuse.'

By the time the other boy realized who was standing at the bottom of the staircase, Draco and Harry were three steps away from being face-to-face. Harry waited for the verbal attack, and was even ready to strike back against anything he might've tried, but it never happened. Draco paused before reaching the landing and stared at the other boy.

'What…?' Harry was confused, even a little surprised when his eyes finally met with grey ones. Draco didn't have his usual look of arrogance and his eyes weren't ablaze with resentment like they usually were. Instead, Draco looked sad.

They stood there, staring at each other for a good minute or two before something seemed to have sparked Draco. Before Harry knew it, Draco's eyes had returned to their familiar cold state as a sneer began to form.

"Potter."

With the same icy tone, Harry spoke. "Malfoy."

The stare he was receiving was intense. It was as if Draco were trying to see through his very being. They didn't move, nor did they say anything. They just stood where they were, eyes locked on each other. Before long, there was a hitch in Draco's breathing, making Harry curious as to what the other boy was thinking about. He didn't have to wonder long.

"… I hate you."

Harry glowered. "The feeling's mutual."

Draco's brows furrowed together, and his breathing grew harder. "Don't you get it, Harry? I hate you."

"Try telling me something new. You've been saying that since the first day we officially met. And since then, you've been nothing but a pain in my arse. Why don't you find yourself a new toy, Malfoy? Oh wait. You have no friends left to play with, do you? Shame really." His tone was filled with a disdain that surprised even himself. Only Draco could emit such a feeling, especially now that Voldemort was gone.

However, Draco's reaction was very unexpected. His eyes lost their steely gaze and were instead filled with sadness and defeat. And again, Harry was surprised. He didn't mean to be so cruel, but with everything Draco had done to him thus far, it was a reflexive action. "Malfoy, I-"

Draco said nothing more and simply brushed past the boy. He didn't even knock shoulders with the Gryffindor, which was something Harry half-expected considering the verbal blast he just laid out. He followed the blond with his eyes, feeling incredibly guilty. 'But… that's nothing compared to what he's been doing to me since we got back here… So why do I feel so bad? He deserved that. Right?' Somehow, Harry wasn't convinced.

It was all a little confusing, but Harry thought nothing more of it. He had said what he said and there was no taking it back. Besides, Draco had already disappeared down the corridor and Professor McGonagall was expecting him. Harry sighed. He carried on, climbing the stairs that led to the Headmistress' office.

When Harry entered, he was immediately greeted by the portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses. He glanced at the one occupied by the late Albus Dumbledore and found himself fighting off a surge of sorrow.

"Ah, Mister Potter. Over here, please." The former Head of Gryffindor waved him over, motioning for him to take a seat before her.

His eyes caught sight of another person sitting with the Headmistress. As he moved forward, he recognized the woman as Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother.

'Oh… that's why he was here…'

She turned and looked at Harry when he got closer.

"Mister Potter."

"Missus Malfoy."

The two nodded in greeting. Although they weren't exactly best of friends, they had a mutual camaraderie having survived the Wizarding War with each other's help. But that didn't explain why she was here now.

"Potter, I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you here," Professor McGonagall said. "A significant matter has been brought to my attention that may or may not involve you."

Harry furrowed his brows. "What might that be?"

The Headmistress glanced at the other woman before looking back at the young man in front of her. "Mister Potter, could you please tell me if you recognize the man in this picture?"

She handed a photograph to the raven-haired boy and Harry blinked at the image he saw. In the picture was a young man, couldn't be more than twenty years old, with hair black as night and eyes the color of emeralds. In short, it was a picture of himself. However, there was another person in the photograph, one that he didn't exactly recognize but who bore an uncanny resemblance to someone he knew. He was a young boy, no more than three or four years old. He had platinum locks and eyes of silver. Both boys smiled and waved at Harry.

"It looks like me… but… I don't recall-"

"Do you know who that other boy is in the picture?" the headmistress continued.

Harry just shook his head.

"That's my son," Narcissa finally spoke. "This is a picture of Draco when he was four years old. And that man there was his au pair."

"Oh…" was all Harry thought to say.

"His name, Potter," Narcissa continued, "was James Evans."

Now Harry was even more confused than ever. "James… Evans?"

"Yes. Now if I recall correctly, your father was named James and your mother's maiden name was Evans, was it not?"

Harry merely nodded. 'Where is this going?' He looked at the picture in his hands once more. "I don't get it. What's going on?"

"Harry," Professor McGonagall leaned forward. "This may not make much sense, but we have reason to believe that James Evans is actually you."

"But how is that possible? She just said that Malfoy- I mean, Draco was four when this was taken. The last time I checked, we're the same age."

"That's where things get complicated," the headmistress replied. "Clearly, you are here. But from what Missus Malfoy has told me, this man is you."

"But that's impossible. We do bare a striking resemblance but this man can't possibly-"

"James Evans, born July 31st. An expert at defensive arts and dueling. Received exceptional marks while attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enjoys flying." Narcissa recited. "Shall I stop now or would you rather I read you your entire resume?"

"But that doesn't make sense…"

Professor McGonagall held out two pieces of parchment for Harry to take. One looked a little aged while the other looked somewhat new. "One is James Evans' resume. The other is a transfiguration paper you turned in just last week. Look at the handwriting, Harry. The similarities are astounding."

She was right. If Harry hadn't known better, he could've sworn he wrote it all out himself. It was his handwriting. Still, Harry shook his head. "Polyjuice… it could explain why he looks like me… and maybe he practiced his writing before taking the job…"

"James Evans stayed with us for two and a half months. I think I might've been aware of any potions being made in my own household. Besides," Narcissa scoffed, "if you're here now, how on Earth could this man create a Polyjuice Potion to look like you fourteen years ahead of its time?"

Harry pursed his lips. "Okay, good point. But then what does this all mean? I somehow went back in time to be Draco's nanny?" Harry asked, trying to grasp the situation. He scoffed at the idea.

"That's exactly what we're saying." Missus Malfoy stated matter-of-factly.

"Unbelievable!" Harry frowned. "If this is really Draco at age four, then that can't be me. I'm right here."

"We're not saying you already went, Potter. We're saying you're going to go."

Harry blinked at the lady Malfoy. "What? Why would I-?"

"There was an incident at about the time this photo was taken where my son almost died. However, he was saved by Mister Evans."

"You see, Harry. Had the Malfoys never hired James Evans, Draco most likely would have died at age four. If Draco had died, then the final battle where you went face-to-face with Lord Voldemort might've gone in a terrible direction. It is quite possible that the Dark Lord could've killed you that night had it not been for Mister Malfoy's actions. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Slowly, Harry nodded. "You're saying we need to find this James fellow and thank him for what he di-"

"No, Potter," Narcissa frowned. "She's saying we need to send you back in time so that you can save Draco when the time comes."

Harry's eyes widened at the plan. "Why would I do that? This man might not even be me! For all we know, there really was a man named James Evans who bears a strong resemblance to me."

"I am convinced that this man is you, Potter," the blond woman said with unwavering faith. "You must go back in time and save my son." She repeated, firmly.

"Professor…" Harry tried, looking to the Headmistress. "You don't honestly think-"

"I think it would be best if we tried." In seeing the boy's eyebrows shoot up in shock, the elder woman continued. "If anything, it would be best to send you to this time to at least make sure that a James Evans does exist. The future of this world relied heavily on your shoulders, Mister Potter. Had you not survived, the world we see now may never have come to exist. And if Mister Malfoy hadn't survived this incident, surely you might not have survived your own."

Harry understood, but was still confused. "Okay, but how? Time-turners can't possibly go back fourteen years can it?"

"Unfortunately, no." McGonagall pursed her lips. "However, there is a device similar to a time-turner called a time-conductor. They are very rare and very dangerous if in the wrong hands. There are only three known to existence and several months of paperwork must be filled out in order to acquire one, let alone use one. They are heavily guarded and almost never mentioned should someone try to use it to their advantage. You see, unlike a time-turner, a time-conductor can take you back to a specific time of a user's choosing and return them back to where they had left upon removal. Its user will have literally been gone a second. And in one second, the world could change."

"And just how are we supposed to get our hands on such an illustrious item?" Harry questioned.

"I've done my work," Narcissa spoke up. "I hadn't noticed the similarities between you and James until after that night of the final battle. In fact, I had nearly forgotten about him completely. But then, during that night, I was back to worrying about my Draco asking you if he was safe. It was déjà vu. I had done the exact same thing before, that night fourteen years ago. Since then, I've been doing my research. And that's when I found this picture. It's the only one I have of James. And here," she pointed at a peculiar piece of jewelry around the man's neck. "That is a time-conductor. I had never seen one before because as Minerva mentioned, they are very rare and are believed to be things of fiction, like the Hallows. But like the Hallows, as you know, they do exist. I did much research to find out where I might get a hold of one. And after much work, much persuading and explaining, and much pull from several of my allies in the ministry, I was able to get my hands on one on the condition that you and only you would be the person to handle it. The world's population has an innate ability to put their trust in you, Mister Potter."

"So what you're saying is that after all of that, you have one now…?"

Narcissa nodded.

Harry was stunned. He sat back in his chair, trying to make sense of everything he had just been told. 'Do they really expect me to go through with this? James Evans… could that really be me?' He looked between the photo and the resume. 'The resemblance really is staggering… even the facts… they all point to me. But the guy might very well exist in real life… Well I guess it wouldn't hurt to be sure. Like McGonagall said, if anything, we need to make sure that he's real… for the sake of the world. And if I'm the one they trust with this mission, I'll do it.'

"Okay."

Both women studied the boy carefully.

He just looked between them and nodded. "Okay. I'll do it. I'll make sure he's real."

"Harry, it's not just that, you know," McGonagall warned. "If James Evans really is you, you will need to play the part. Narcissa and her husband went for two and a half months, maybe even years afterward, believing you to be who you said you were. This is no easy task."

"I think I can handle it, Professor. Besides," Harry said, straightening up in his seat, "I'm not too convinced that this James really is me. I'm sure there's a rational explanation to all of this and I'm going to find it out by going back in time."

"All right, Potter," the headmistress nodded in approval.

"Here." Narcissa reached into her purse and pulled out a small metallic box. "It's been enchanted so only you can open it." She dropped it into Harry's expectant palm.

Sure enough, when the box made contact with Harry's skin, the sounds of clicks and whirs could be heard coming from within. Eventually, the box sprung open and Harry carefully peered inside. He pulled out the necklace. It was simple: a gold chain with a gold pendant. The pendant itself was a tad more complicated. It looked like a plain tube on the outside, similar to a muggle bullet. But its outer casing retracted, revealing a series of dials with numbers etched on it. He closed it and looked back at the picture Narcissa had shared with him. Around his neck, James wore a similar pendant, but the one in the picture was small and hard to make out, making it nearly impossible to tell if they were the same. But the fact that it could be the same sent a wave of uncertainty over the boy.

'If that is me then I'll have to baby-sit Draco Malfoy…ugh… Just what I need in my life. A tiny tyrant.' But Harry also looked at what was at stake. 'If that is me and I don't do this, things really might not turn out the way they did… they might even be worse… I could never forgive myself if I let that happen.' At that, Harry made up his mind. He would go back in time and make sure James Evans was real, even if he had to become him.

"Okay. So… I'm guessing I have to enter the date, right?" Harry looked to the women for confirmation.

"That is correct, Mister Potter." McGonagall spoke.

"Oh." Harry paused, an idea springing into his mind. "Why can't I just go back in time to stop Tom Riddle from ever becoming Voldemort?"

Professor McGonagall frowned, seemingly having known such a question would eventually pop up. "It's called the butterfly effect, Harry," the teacher explained. "It states that a chaotic event can be sparked by something seemingly insignificant. If you change what has already happened, it is quite possible that things could be made worse by your interference."

"How would anything be worse without Lord Voldemort coming into existence?"

"There are many dark wizards out there, Potter," Narcissa clarified. "Even without Voldemort around, there very well might've been someone else. The Dark Lord had many followers. Had they never had a leader as ruthless and he, any one of them could have stepped up and done the same, perhaps even worse."

Unfortunately, this made complete sense. "But… with this kind of power, we could save a lot of people. Professor Snape, Remus Lupin, Fred Weasley, Sirius, my parents, even Professor Dumbledore, any one of them!" Harry stood abruptly, suddenly feeling very anxious.

"But Harry-" Professor McGonagall tried.

Harry slammed his hands forcefully against the headmistress' desk. "We can save them! All of them! Just give me the chance!"

"Harry, you can't! You don't understand the consequences we could face if you change anything in the past. The slightest of things could lead to the Dark Lord's victory."

"Or it could lead to a future where those people, good people, live."

"Potter, think of it like this," Narcissa frowned, clearly growing upset. "If you go back in time to save any one of those people, it could trigger a series of events that could very well lead to the deaths of Molly or Arthur Weasley, maybe that Ronald boy or your other little friend, the smart one, or even Minerva herself."

"But you don't know that-"

"And neither do you." The lady Malfoy was stern.

"So what gives me the right to go back now to save your son? Why am I allowed to save him when I can't even save my own family? It's selfish of you! It's not fair!" Harry stood upright, running his hands through his hair. "Anyway, how are you so sure that me saving him will inevitably save us all?"

"It's simple, Harry," Professor McGonagall spoke up. "Because it did. Or at least it will have if you truly are James Evans. There is proof of his existence. And even though we can't be entirely sure that you are one in the same, we do know that James Evans existed and that he saved Draco Malfoy who in turn saved you who saves us all."

Harry let out a deep breath. "But… I can save them… I know I can…"

"The temptation to change what has already happened is inside us all. If I could, knowing that everyone I hold dear stays safe in the future, I'd go back and protect each and every one of them. But I can never know what the future holds. That is something no one can determine. Even those who are experts in divination can never really predict the future to a t. That's why the time-conductor is heavily protected against the world." The older woman sighed and looked at the boy with understanding. "Harry I know this is hard. But the people who handed this over to us are trusting us. They're trusting you."

Slowly, Harry sat back down and closed his eyes. "…I know…"

"And the only reason I brought this up with you in the first place, Potter, was the fact that you and James Evans are so similar. Had he looked the same as Gregory Goyle, I would have brought it up with him. However, I suppose I'm lucky that it was you, otherwise I might never have been granted access to the conductor."

Harry was silent for a moment as he mulled things over. 'If he's not me, I can just watch out for him. I need to make absolutely sure that we're not the same. And if we are, then…ugh…' He looked over at Missus Malfoy. "Two and half months, huh?"

"If you're lucky, you won't even have to do it," she replied with the hint of a smile.

Harry returned the small gesture. The tension that had grown between the three had significantly lightened. "Okay… so how does this thing work?"

"You need to set the dials to the exact date you want to travel to," Narcissa explained. "That would be May 27th, fourteen years ago. I wasn't there myself, but that was the day James Evans did something to catch my husband's attention. From there, he was able to submit this resume which led to his employment."

"What did he do?"

"Apparently, he stopped our Draco from being trampled."

"Geez… does your son attract danger or something?"

"I could say the same about you, boy."

Again, Harry couldn't help but smile. Despite having spawned his rival, Harry was actually growing slightly fond for the blond woman. She was protective over her only child, a trait similar to that of his own mother.

"All right." Harry slipped the necklace over his head.

"Wait. Before you go, take off your robe," Narcissa ordered.

"What?" Harry frowned, his eyes slightly wide with surprise at the request.

"Stupid boy," she said lightly, rolling her eyes. "You're wearing a Hogwarts uniform. A Gryffindor one, nonetheless. If you are James, my husband wouldn't give you a second glance if you're a Gryffindor who is apparently skipping out on school, even if you did save our son."

"Ah."

"So, robes. And take off your jumper and your tie as well. Just in case…"

Harry did as he was told and removed the garments. "Should I be bringing anything with me? Like my clothes…"

"Ugh, Lord no," Missus Malfoy ridiculed. "I've seen the types of things you wear on a regular basis. At least this looks a little suitable…" She reached into her purse again and pulled out a rather hefty pouch of what Harry figured to be money. "Just take this with you and buy something nice. Consider it a nice bonus for all the service you may or may not have to do."

"I do have my own money, you know…"

"In a Gringott's Bank vault whose only key is supposed to be in the possession of Rubeus Hagrid, himself." McGonagall made clear.

"Oh. Right." Harry frowned.

"One more thing," Narcissa cut in. She stood so that she was face-to-face with Harry. Raising her hand to lift his bangs, Missus Malfoy cocked her head to the side as she set her eyes on the infamous scar. She pulled out her wand and held it over Harry's forehead. "Dissimulo Frons." With the skill of a woman who was in her early forties, but still looked like a woman in her late twenties, Narcissa hid the telltale scar. "Don't worry, Potter. Your brand is still there. You can feel it, but you just can't see it." She pulled out a mirror and showed him. "See?"

Harry reached up and felt for his scar. Sure enough, it was definitely still there in touch, but very well hidden by sight. The boy was bewildered. "I should have done that a long time ago…" He turned to look at the Headmistress. "Why don't you teach these things?"

"I'm sorry Mister Potter, but physical transfiguration like this isn't high on our curriculum. We're too busy with teaching you how to defend yourselves if a boggart attacks and how to create a potion that'll save you from the brink of death." The teacher replied, rather dryly.

"Yeah, yeah…" Harry said with a wave of his hand, understanding her meaning. "Still… it would have been a useful trick…"

"Potter, it is quite easy to create a deformation, even permanent ones. If everyone who was insecure with their looks knew there was a spell they could use to disguise their unwanted features, I guarantee over half of the students at this school would have foolishly tried it on his or her self or even on one another, only serving to make things worse for them in the end anyway. Besides, yours is only a temporary guise. Keep in mind it'll fade after a few months. Something simple like this takes much skill and practice. In my case, perfection begets perfection." Narcissa topped this all off by looking at her face in the mirror with a proud and confident smile.

Harry briefly wondered what Narcissa really looked like underneath her spells, but when he realized no good would come of asking, Harry just pushed the thought aside.

"Okay. Now you're ready." Narcissa judged. "You'll have to set the time to one in the afternoon. I'm not sure when it happened exactly. All I know is that my husband took Draco to Diagon Alley between one and five that day, so keep a close eye out."

"How is it that you remember the time that they went out?"

"Potter, my son almost got trampled that day. I remember those things. Mothers fawn over their sons."

Harry nodded in understanding. "I see... Okay, let's try this, then." Harry opened the time-conductor and began setting the dials. "Five twenty-seven…nineteen…eighty four… thirteen, zero, zero. And I guess I set this t-"

"Wait Potter, there are still some things we need to tell you," McGonagall warned, leaning forward in her seat.

He looked back up at the woman, still rotating the instrument. "Hm?"

"Potter, stop! You'll-" Narcissa tried to stop the boy from spinning the last dial into place, but it was too late. A flash of white light filled the room and just like that, Harry was gone.

Author's Notes: I was awake until four in the morning typing most of this out, so I hope it makes sense. This is what happens when I spend a morning at work and drink iced coffee at night. But yay! We're delving into the story! Sure we're at the shallow end, but it'll progress. I'm fond of Narcissa Malfoy and I heart her even more after the seventh book for caring more about her family than about her own safety. I also adore McGonagall for being that stern old woman with a soft side.

Anyway, this should hopefully make you understand the title a bit more...