Other than that, and certain aspects of the storyline, and any characters you don't recognize, nothing belongs to me.
To my reviewers:
Caitlin: Haha, I know of the "crappily written things" of which you speak. Thank you for the compliments, and yes, I think in this chapter there's enough description, because this is where I planned to explain most everything.
HandsOff: It's funny how you mentioned time travel because part of this was based off of Back To The Future (notice how he goes back to his dad's time). I'm a sucker for that type of trippy stuff too.
Adcohen: Thank you! Let's see how chapter three will be.
Lai: I'm surprised that you didn't get it – I did hope that I had made myself clear. You see, Madame Pomfrey didn't have an Aussie accent, but since Harry didn't know that she saw him as James (who, if you'll remember, got hit in the head with a bludger), he assumed that she wasn't talking about a Quidditch ball but instead using Australian slang (the term "bludger" means something along the lines of a bumbling idiot, I think).
The way I figure it is that Harry's parents were about 25 when he was born, and if they were 25 years older than him and Madame Pomfrey is relatively old, she would have been a Hogwarts nurse even in the Marauders' days.
I hope that cleared up any uncertainty in regards to Madame Pomfrey.
Miss Lyss: Don't feel too bad for James: he's clever, he'll figure stuff out.
Starlit jewel: I'm glad you like it. I've had this chapter done for a while, but I haven't had the oppurtunity to upload it. Here it is everyone!
WELL HERE'S THE MOMENT WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR … CHAPTER THREE EVERYBODY! (please remain seated throughout the show, thank you)
Life Swap
Chapter Three
Dumbledore's Account
"Whoa, mate!" Siruis was saying. "You need help?"
The three marauders were getting up out of their chairs to help Harry but Harry stood up quickly and got back into bed.
"No, nope, no, no," Harry said quickly. "I just need to get back into bed, make sure I'm asleep, and then wake up from whatever sick delusion this is," Harry ranted desperately. "He better not have gotten to my head again," he muttered. "But if he has, he's being especially cruel and deserves to be kicked in the groin."
"Excuse me?" Lupin said.
"I don't need to answer to you, Mr. Figment-of-my-bloody-imagination!" Harry said hysterically.
"Somebody took one too many gulps of their potion," Sirius said.
"James, what's wrong with you?" Pettigrew asked.
"Don't you speak to me!" Harry said, cringing at the realization Wormtail was looking at him as if he actually cared. "What you can do is go away as soon as possible and let me have some peace."
The door to the ward opened and Dumbledore walked in. "Ah, I figured that you three would make it here before me," he said.
"Professor," Sirius said. "I think James here is wrong in the head."
"Mr. Black," Dumbledore said, "I thought you were clever enough to deduce that fact. After all, he was hit in the head with a bludger."
"It's not that, Professor," Lupin said, eyeing Harry with that familiar worried look. "Something is seriously wrong."
"Yeah, I'll say," Harry said. "They seem to keep getting my name wrong . . . among other things."
"What?" Sirius said. "Don't tell me you're not James Potter!" Pretending to be wrought with grief he said, "Oh no! Who are you and what have you done with our best friend?" Dropping the act, he continued, "Seriously, mate, what's wrong?"
Harry paused and pinched himself discreetly under the sheets. It hurt. He looked at all of them and asked, "What day is it?"
"Monday," Peter answered.
Harry winced slightly at being addressed so informally by Pettigrew. Turning to Lupin he asked, "What date?"
"Er . . . February 22," Lupin answered.
"Year?"
"Are you serious?" Sirius asked. "Do you want to know the exact time down to the millisecond too?"
Harry blinked. "Er, no thanks. Look, guys, sorry about . . . yeah. I've just got the most monstrous headache. I'll be okay in no time. I appreciate your visit, but I think you'll have to cut it short. I don't feel so good."
"It shows," Lupin said.
Harry grinned, shakily. "Yeah, I suppose."
The three got up and left, saying their goodbyes as they went through the door.
Harry heard Lupin say, "What's up with him?"
Sirius answered, "I was about to ask you the same question … "
As the sound of their voices faded away, Harry marveled at how young all of them looked. Jerking himself out of his reverie, Harry noticed Dumbledore was still in the room.
"Well, James," he said, "I should probably talk to Madame Pomfrey about how soon we can have you back in class." He started to walk away when Harry called out to him urgently.
"Wait! Professor!"
Dumbledore turned around.
"I need to talk to you," Harry said.
"Professor?" James said. "Something odd is going on here."
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "But before we get to that, will you excuse me for one moment." He waved his wand at the door and turned back to James.
James raised an eyebrow.
"I put a charm on the door so that the young Weasleys can't use their Extendable Ears to eavesdrop," Dumbledore said.
"Extendable Ears?"
"Their own invention. The twins own their own business, which is something Harry would know, as he was their first main investor."
James gulped. "But I'm not this . . . Harry kid. I'm James Potter, and I'm confused."
Dumbledore sat down heavily in an abandoned chair.
He's taking this rather well, James thought.
"I know," Dumbledore said.
There was a brief pause during which they stared at each other.
"You lost me, Professor," James said.
Dumbledore looked at James a long moment before saying, "Today is February 22nd – "
"Yeah," James interrupted. "Guess I've been unconscious for a couple of days . . . "
Dumbledore continued, "And twenty-five years into your future."
James felt his jaw drop.
"Twenty-five years ago," Dumbledore was saying, "You came to me with a problem. You woke up in the hospital wing a couple days after an accident on the Quidditch field – I seem to remember that you were hit in the head with a bludger."
"That's the last thing I remember," James said, nodding.
Dumbledore nodded. "The strange thing was, you didn't seem to believe that you were James Potter. You told me your name was Harry Potter and that you didn't understand why Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew were so young. You didn't understand where you were, or what had happened to you, and that the last thing you remembered was being cursed into oblivion by a Death Eater."
James stared.
"It didn't take long for this mind, in your body," Dumbledore said, "to convince me that he was actually James Potter's son, Harry. A bit of time after that, the two of us discovered that your minds had switched. You see, both of you fell unconscious at the exact time and age. . . twenty-five years apart. The power of the curse that was set upon Harry, who is your future son, James, combined with his unique . . . characteristics, was able to send his mind and spirit twenty-five years into the past into a vessel that was strongly connected to him . . . his father. He, in turn, displaced his your mind, which had no place else to go but into his body.
"Now, I'm to believe that you both have woken at the same time, twenty-five years apart: two days after whatever caused your unconsciousness.
"I must confess to you, though, James," Dumbledore said, "If not for this incredible switch, I think Harry would be dead. Harry was not meant to die this way, so his destiny found a way for him to live."
James blinked: he didn't quite get it, but he sensed there was something Dumbledore wasn't telling him. "Okay. So I saved my . . . future son's life. Can I go home now?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "You have some task yet to do," he said. "As does Harry. Eventually, you'll return. I remember that much. Although I'm worried about Harry's welfare . . . he could yet be in danger."
"How?"
"There is a period of time where Harry's spirit separates from your body, but lingers in the past," Dumbledore said. "There are certain conditions on Harry's mortality. There is only one way he can die."
James paused. "Is it safe for you to tell me that?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "When I told you of the Prophecy, about a year after Harry was born, you seemed to already know this part of it. I suppose it is now when you find out . . . Harry can only be killed at the hand of Voldemort."
James shivered slightly. He hadn't yet learned to immunize himself against the thought of the most powerful dark wizard on the face of the planet. "Are you serious?" he asked, trembling. "My . . . future son has to die at the will of . . . him?"
Dumbledore thought, then said, "He doesn't have to die. That's the only way he can die – at least until Voldemort is defeated completely."
"He hasn't been defeated yet?" James asked.
"He disappeared for a over a decade," Dumbledore said, "But he was never really gone. I can't really risk telling you any more than that. That's too dangerous, considering you'll be sent back to the past with any information you receive of the future. I will tell you this: if Harry dies by the hand of Voldemort in the past, it counts. Harry needs to survive and get himself back to the future, or all is lost."
The words hung in the air.
"Does he get back? I mean, you've lived these past twenty-five years, you must know what happens," James said.
Dumbledore shook his head. "That, I could not tell you. You finished whatever task you had to accomplish for Harry's time, and you came back, detaching Harry's spirit from your body. The thing was, that the curse placed upon him was so powerful, that it would kill him if he went back into his body, so his spirit, in a sort of . . . half-body, hung around. He stuck it out with you for a while, then he disappeared. Neither you nor I heard from him again until he was born, which doesn't say much because he was sixteen when he could have died in the past."
Silence. Then James said, "Same age as me ... I hope he doesn't have to die so young."
Dumbledore nodded. "Now here are some things about Harry's life you may need to know … "