"Where do you think he went?" asked Ron, starting to get worried. It's been at least thirty minutes and the adult Harry Potter was still not back at the Burrow after his dramatic exit.

Following the initial bout of silence, the Burrow's kitchen exploded with questions and speculation of what got their visitor so worried. They eventually decided it must've been something to do with his younger self, though they couldn't imagine what the date had to do with that. So, they waited for him to get back.

"Ickle Ronniekins, in case you failed to notice..." - answered Fred in a bored tone,

"...we've been in this room with you since he left..." - continued George,

"...and unless we both managed to miss some important clue...",

"...we know as much as you do."

Ron huffed slightly, when a tell-tale crack of apparition resounded and two male figures appeared in the small cramped kitchen of Ottery St Catchpole's most eccentric building. The smaller one immediately bent down, clutched his stomach and started to gasp for air. The taller one moved closer to help the other one stand.

- "You okay?",

- "That... was worse... than I imagined... it would be."

The older Harry Potter nodded and added sympathetically,

"Unfortunately, the other magical methods of transport don't really agree with me either. Apparition does get tolerable eventually. I always most preferred brooms, though." The younger Potter took in a final, deep breath and fully stood up.

- "Aw, look, George...",

- "...those two... Just like a parent and a child, am I right, Fred?",

- "Yes, truly stunning. Just like a mother and her son..."

Both Harries rolled their eyes in eerily similar ways.

- "Whoa, that's just... creepy" - commented Ron, who just got done staring back and forth between the two.

- "What is?" - Arthur Weasley entered the kitchen, looking rather cheerful. He stopped when he took in the obvious unusual sight, blinked repeatedly and spent the next minute staring back and forth. Eerily similar to how Ron has.

- "Oh, Arthur!" - Molly Weasley made her way towards her husband and enveloped him in a hug. She looked to be barely holding back tears again.

- "Er, has something... happened?" - the man looked suddenly worried and Mrs. Weasley nodded.

- "If I may interject" - said the older Harry Potter - "technically nothing's really happened yet. But it very well might."

Arthur Weasley looked back and forth between the two Potters once again.

- "Ah, er, could I ask you two for..." - he began,

- "Our names?" - Adult Harry raised an eyebrow. "Certainly. Me, I'm Harry Potter. And this here, is Harry Potter."

The twins snorted, but Mr. Weasley didn't seem quite so amused. He didn't really look like he knew to react to that revelation and Harry silently blessed the fact there was no war going on right now; he'd probably be getting hexed all the way back to Surrey right now, otherwise. He figured it was time to explain.

"Like I have already explained to your wife, Mr. Weasley, due to a unknown mishap I seem to have ended up back in time..." He laid more of the story out here, repeating what he already told the other Weasleys.

"So, uh, here we are." - he ended, smiling sheepishly. Mr. Weasley, which was mostly quiet during his explanation, bar some minor gasps and flinches when Voldemort's name was uttered, finally spoke.

"Er, as interesting as that tale is, you don't suppose you could prove this to us, somehow?" Ah. That's right. While the twins, Ron and Molly were keen to believe his every word from the start, he didn't exactly provide any proof. And providing evidence to support his story was actually slightly problematic, seeing how the family barely knew him right now. After a bit of thought, however, he did think of just the thing. Not wanting to get his younger mate's self into trouble, he moved over to whisper in his ear.

"In our first year, you were bitten by Hagrid's pet dragon, Norbert, which we then sent off to the reserve your brother works for in Romania."

That would probably be enough, but just to make sure, he continued.

"Also, around Christmas, we found the Mirror of Erised, in which you saw yourself winning the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor and becoming the head boy."

There. Two facts Ron definitely didn't tell anyone else about.

"Well then?" - He asked openly - "Do you think I am who I claim I am?" The youngest male Weasley nodded.

"And another thing, I suppose" - Adult Harry continued - "I could just say that you helped me get through the King's Cross barrier when I didn't know how to get to Platform 9 3/4 on the first day of school." That wasn't the strongest proof, but it was the only thing he could think of to tell the entire family. Arthur seemed to want to ask his son what he was told that made him be convinced, but seeing him sit there slightly embarrassed made the man realize the information was somehow private.

"We... should inform Dumbledore about this." - the Weasley patriarch eventually breathed out. Everyone, including his younger self, nodded, while he just folded his arms. Ah, yes, Dumbledore. While still planning for the ritual, he did briefly think about telling (by writing and memorising a note) his younger self to avoid the manipulative headmaster, who, in his efforts to win the war, played everyone like chess pieces. He quickly realized, though, that he wasn't nearly cunning enough to go behind Dumbledore while also outsmarting Voldemort. Especially not when he was twelve.

So, the old man was definitely unavoidable. Doubly so, now. Oh well. He just hoped he would listen and not concoct another unlikely plan like last time.

"Yes, I suppose we should. However!" - and he pointed towards his younger self here - "He has to eat something, first."

This made the twelve-year-old blush.

"Uh, no, it's okay, really. This is far more important, from the sound of it. I, er, already ate."

Older Harry shot him an incredulous look. Of course, he guiltily realized, he did this sort of thing himself all the time. Claiming he's "fine" was almost his catchphrase during fifth year. Unfortunately, his counterpart was fighting a losing battle, here.

- "Oh, you already ate? When exactly?",

- "T-today, just before you came",

- "And I suppose you forgot I know exactly what happened in that house?"

That prompted the younger Harry into stammering some weak excuses, but those were cut short by none other than Mrs. Weasley, which apparently just finished appraising him visually and didn't really like the verdict. So, she turned towards the older of the two.

"And what would that be, dear?"

His counterpart looked at him pleadingly, but he decided to be evil. He knew he would hate anyone that did this to him, but... Yes, perhaps spilling a few secrets would make himself grow up to be less scrawny. Plus, having the Weasley matriarch as an ally for when he was going to suggest to Dumbledore for Privet Drive to cease being the younger Potters' residence permanently could be useful.

"The reason I got so worked up and left in a hurry when you told me you didn't get him out of there yet was because I know I got barely any food since that ministry warning."

He saw himself slumping and blushing even more fiercely, if that was even possible. It was the turn of the Weasleys to look at them both incredulously.

"Ah, also, er, while he should eat, don't serve him an entire Hippogriff, as he won't be physically able to stomach it." was added after a moment.

Molly immediately got back to finishing the meal that was already cooking on the stove when he first entered the house with the twins and Ron, muttering something like "horrible muggles" and "how could that old man". Ah yes. An ally, indeed.

Ten minutes later he silently joined his younger self in hating himself, as Molly insisted he ingest a meal far bigger than that Hippogriff he so graciously saved the twelve-year from. He didn't notice the little brat smirking, either.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was currently eating a meal in his office as well - using the Great Hall for that purpose in the summer would be silly, and since he had work pretty much all the time, he didn't bother going into his private quarters. As he was about to stab a nicely-looking piece of potato, the Floo chimed, signalling someone trying to visit. Being the Headmaster of Hogwarts, he had to keep the Floo open for any distressed parents or Ministers of Magic coming to solve a problem or eighty.

But, as he dropped his fork and approached the fireplace, he noticed that the head sticking out of it wasn't a parent or the bumbling Ministry official. Instead, Arabella Figg, the squib he sent to keep an eye out for Harry Potter while he was living with his relatives was looking at him with a worried expression.

"Arabella? Has something happened?"

"Several things, Albus, several things! Firstly, I didn't see Harry out of his house for almost a week now, and the Dursleys put bars on his window for whatever reason..."

Dumbledore frowned, hoping that wasn't an act of retaliation for the piece of magic Harry apparently performed a few days ago.

"Anyway, I was planning on asking Petunia to let me take the boy for a few hours today, but then I noticed him walking away from the house, alongside someone who I can only guess was pretending to be his father. Before I could get to them, they walked behind some bushes and poof! Gone! Probably disapparated."

Oh no. Oh no! How could have the blood wards failed so spectacularly? - shrieked Dumbledore inside his own head as the severity of situation hit him fully and some of that panic spilled into his expression. He quickly composed himself, however, dismissed Arabella, and was just about ready to jump into action and start using all of his resources to track the gullible boy... when the Floo chimed again, blasted thing! Whirling around, he almost snapped something rude at Molly Weasley's head for bothering him in the moment of crisis, but he remembered that would not do. Instead, he tried to portray as much urgency in his voice as possible.

"Molly, I'm so sorry, but right now there's a problem concerning Harry Potter and I really can't..." - he started, but was interrupted.

"Of course there is! He has apparently been starved for the last five days!" - replied the incensed mother, glaring at the old man.

"Starv- you mean he's with you?"

As he heard the Weasley matriarch confirm, a wave of relief flooded Dumbledore's body, before he recalled something that gave him pause.

"Would you mind telling me who brought him in?" he asked, now curious. Surely, James Potter didn't...

"Ah, well, that's... a rather strange thing, really." What?! No, there's simply no way! The glare he was getting disappeared, and Molly was now looking to the side. "It'd be best if he explained himself, I suppose. Could you step thr..." Here a muffled voice was heard from the other side. "Oh, he says he'd rather do this in your office. Can he and Harry step through?"

Dumbledore nodded, mulling over who he was about to see. In a minute, the Floo flared green and Harry Potter fell out, landing face first on the floor and getting ash all over it. He was about to help the child up, when a second man was ejected out of the fireplace, in a similar manner as his predecessor, just barely stopping himself from kissing the ground as well.

The Potter hair on the older figure was unmistakable. After righting himself, he spoke. "Well, how did you enjoy that, then? Better than apparating?" The boy on the floor groaned, before turning himself over and getting up. "No? Didn't think so. Told you brooms are the best." There was a tone of amusement in his voice, and then he looked up to meet Dumbledore's eyes.

"Ah. Good morning, professor." He boy beside him nodded and mumbled a greeting as well.

The headmaster assessed the person standing in front of him. It wasn't James Potter. Anyone who knew the man would easily spot the differences. He was thinner and shorter than the man and a bit more battle-beaten. The green eyes were quickly spotted, along with the scar on the forehead and Dumbledore's breath hitched. Well. Wasn't that a sight. Subconsciously keeping his hand on his wand, he asked the obvious question.

"Good morning, Mr...?"

"Potter. Harry Potter. So nice to meet you, sir"

"Well, yes, that would appear to be so, perhaps, but I must say I can't say I expect that to be actually true" replied Dumbledore, wondering how precisely this person was expecting to get away with claiming such a thing. The Older Potter was about to reply, when Young Harry spoke up.

"He... is actually me, professor. Apparently from the future. He already told me some things no one else knows about..."

Dumbledore blinked and looked at Adult Harry in a new light before shaking his head.

"Alas, as much as I might trust Harry's judgement, I wonder if you would be willing to prove your identity in some more conclusive manner..."

Older Harry quickly gathered what Dumbledore was referring to. Of course the old man would immediately request Veritaserum testing for something like this. He didn't have anything to hide, but the idea of being vulnerable to spilling all his best hidden secrets without pause didn't play well with him. Still, if he didn't agree to this, he'd probably be dosed anyway, likely after getting stunned and bound in some way or another. He preferred to go the easy route, so he smiled.

"Certainly, professor. I assume you're referring to the truth potion?",

If Dumbledore was surprised at the immediate acceptance, he did not show it and instead moved towards the fireplace, threw some Floo powder in and called for Spinner's End.

It didn't take two seconds after laying his eyes on the two Harry Potters for Snape to adapt the trademark scowl and an annoyed look.

"I don't know what you're playing at or why you'd want to pretend to look like that dunderhead, but you should know that I don't particularly appreciate wasting my time or potions." he spat, before handing one of the two vials he brought with him to Dumbledore - one with transparent liquid.

"It's lovely to see you too, Professor Snape." replied Older Harry, amused despite the incoming questioning.

The man just glared and Dumbledore motioned for them all to sit. A minute later three drops of aforementioned fluid were put on Adult Potters' tongue and said man felt a dull sense overcoming him, something akin to the Imperius curse, minus the wonderful feeling of all your worries being removed. Instead, he felt that his only worry, the only thing that truly mattered right now was responding to the incoming questions truthfully and without hesitation. And so, the questions came.

- "What is your full name?",

- "Harry James Potter". His voice was dull and devoid of any emotions.

The two older wizards looked at each other, before Snape narrowed his eyes and extended the question.

- "What was your full birth name?"

- "Harry James Potter".

Snape snatched the Veritaserum that lay on Dumbledore's desk, and started examining it, while the headmaster asked more questions.

- "What is your birth date?",

- "31st of July of 1980",

- "Who were your parents?",

- "Lily Potter and James Potter"

Suddenly Snape put the potion back on the desk and pointed his wand at Younger Harry, who was so far watching the scene with interest, but flinched away from the weapon.

"Headmaster, clearly the actual impostor is here. Very clever, making us think the older person was the one disguised, while both of them are. Some kind of prank, I suppose?" - He directed those last words at Adult Harry, spitting the word "prank" like the vilest curse imaginable. As the Veritaserum was still in effect, he was forced to answer the half-question.

- "No.",

- "Then how do you explain your current appearance?" - the Potions master snapped. That question was a bit too broad.

- "I appear to look like my father with my mothers' eyes. The hair is a family trait. The scar on my forehead..."

He was interrupted right then by Younger Harry shouting a question, apparently getting nervous from the wand that was still pointed at him and impatient from all the pointless talking.

- "Are you me from the future?",

- "As far as I know, yes."

"There. Happy?" He glared at his potions teacher, who lowered the wand looking bewildered. That was, however, a question, so...

"I don't really feel particularly happy or sad at the moment."

After that pointless remark, Dumbledore adapted his twinkly-eyed look. "Well, then. I suppose the day got much more interesting." He shot pointed look at the second vial, at which Snape nodded and administered the antidote to Veritaserum. After Older Harry shook off the last bits of the truth serum's effect, Dumbledore continued.

"What brings you here, then, Harry?"

And so the time traveller began his tale for the third time that day.