A/N A big thank-you to shizzler for adding in a WHOLE SENTENCE!! Woo for her…and to the places I sat while I wrote this: Up on the dark balcony whilst I helped with the lighting for the Year 7 Play (Shizzler's moment to type on my laptop while I wasn't looking), down by the lake in my school grounds, in my dorm in the heights of the West Wing and out front by the playing fields where I sat by my very own 'old oak tree' and imagined the marauders meeting Harry there…
Written to the soundtrack of Elizabeth Town Volume 1
('It'll all work out' is one of my favourites on there)
The grounds were thrown in a dappled grey light, the sun shining feebly through the turbulent clouds that scudded across the sky. Harry swiftly led Dumbledore through the mingling students, from whom they receive odd and curious stares (James must REALLY be in trouble this time if Dumbledore was involved) until he reached the old oak tree and the splintered remains of the broom lying forlorn and abandoned at its feet.
Dumbledore took each fragment from Harry as he picked them up, examining them with intense curiosity. Each time Harry glanced at the old wizard he felt a tightening in his heart, the thought that he could somehow still spend time with a man he had thought in all ways lost to him was playing havoc with his emotions, his instincts and ethics. The additional problem that Dumbledore had almost no idea who he was was also painful and added another element of complication to the turmoil of confusions swirling within him.
Dumbledore looked up and caught Harry staring at him wistfully and with such a twisted expression on his face that for a perceptive wizard such as himself it must've been like reading an open book. Harry quickly looked away from his intense stare and felt the heat rising to his face. When he dared return his eyes to Dumbledore, however, the man was still examining the splinters.
Suddenly, when Harry had collected all the wood off the ground, Dumbledore turned and began marching quickly towards the doors of the school, leaving Harry to tag along behind him. "What is it? What have you thought of?"
Dumbledore glanced at Harry, and Harry, for the first time, realised he was the same height as Dumbledore. He had grown a lot in the last summer, in many ways, and again he felt a strange sense of emotions when he realised that in his time Dumbledore would never be able to see Harry in this way, as a man.
"The design, from what I can muster, is quite ingenious and, if you'll forgive me my sense of self-confidence, almost certainly of my future-self's design. More importantly, my all-too-near future-self."
Harry translated what he was saying, "So, you-you will invent this thing pretty soon? That's-what-good or bad?"
"Oh, it is a very useful thing. If I possess similar knowledge to when I create this thing as I do now, then the chances are I will be able to decipher its workings. Now," Harry soon realised that they had re-entered Dumbledore's office while they had been talking. "When I gave you this broom, I gave you no indication as to why I wanted you to have it?" Harry shifted uncomfortably, how to explain that when he had received the broom Dumbledore was already dead?
"Um, someone else gave it to me, on your orders, you told them to do it in-in a letter."
Dumbledore gazed at him, "And there were no circumstances in your time that you can imagine that you would require it? For example, to escape the death-eaters you mentioned?"
"No, you-you couldn't possibly have known about that and besides, you would have given me something more useful, surely? Something that transported me, but not back in time?"
Dumbledore nodded, "A wise point. Very well, may I assume this was the first time you used the broom?"
"Err, no, when I first got it, I was trying to work out why it might be special, so I tried it out on the quidditch pitch with my friends, nothing happened, it flew like any other old cleansweep."
"So what would differentiate that flight from yours later I wonder? Maybe it is activated by a situation of danger, perhaps?"
Harry scoured his mind for any kind of clue to the answer of this question, and then, it came to him. "That's it! When they attacked me one of the Death eaters mentioned my father and his friends, and I must have been thinking of them when I got on the broom! That would make sense, as I wasn't thinking of anyone or thing from a different time the first time I rode it and then…and then it transported me to exactly the same spot but in 1977, but I thought I'd gone somewhere different because Hogsmeade is a lot bigger in my time and the forest must get smaller in the future as the town spreads out."
Harry grinned triumphantly, the familiar feeling returning to him, mirroring the many times he, Ron and Hermione solved a mystery. At the thought of his friends his heart sank again. And Dumbledore, who had been listening intently to Harry's thoughts with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, set the broom's remains down onto his desk with a sigh.
"I'm afraid, that however lucky the proximity of your arrival here to my original invention of this broom, it will still take time to devise its workings and repair it. I am, of course, anxious to return you as soon as possible, each moment you spend back in this time you risk chance of upsetting what is known as the space-time continuum. Having said that, I can only conclude that it may take weeks, even months, to rectify the broom"
Harry, jumped up, outraged, "Weeks? Months? Professor, I can't stay here that long! I have friends back in my time! I have a girlfriend! You can't do this to me!" Dumbledore looked at Harry over his spectacles sadly, "A girlfriend? Is she pretty?"
Harry calmed down at this unusual question and sat down abruptly, leaning forward across the desk imploringly, "She's beautiful Professor, we're crazy about each other."
He tugged a photo out of his pocket that had been resting in there for a while; it showed a young man with messy black hair and green eyes, sitting by the school lake accompanying a girl with fiery red locks. The wind was ruffling their hair and they took it in turns to laugh at the camera-man before turning to kiss each other, making whoever was holding the camera jerk it in shock, or perhaps protective big-brother anger. Harry flashed it at Dumbledore before shoving it back in his robes.
"See? You see what you're keeping me from? My life was just about getting back on track; I thought, stupidly, I can see that now, that everything might actually be alright. And now you're telling me I'm stuck here?!"
At Harry's heated outburst several of the portraits of the old Headmaster's on the wall had 'awoken' from their usual feigned slumber and were muttering under their breaths indignantly about impertinent young men from the future. Harry span round and glared at them. This was it wasn't it? This was the next thing that was going to almost destroy him, not Voldemort or any Death Eaters, but the constant inescapable mess that was his life. Wherever he went he was stalked by trouble, danger and risk of losing those he loved. Misunderstanding, rumours and rejection seemed to dog his every step and everything normal, peaceful and average shied away from him.
He felt the anger rise inside him that he hadn't felt in so long, the rage that he could never control. Mimicking each hurdle life threw at him it would come when he least expected, when he finally thought that all his battles had been won, his demons all defeated and his fears overcome. Harry stood; fist clenched to his sides, and fought back a bitter laugh. Yes, the bitterness had returned, triggered by the unchanging everyday unfairness that was part of his life, coursing through his veins. The bitterness of spending his life fighting death away from himself and those that surrounded him, that and the misery of having to be the person he was born as.
Then as quickly as it had come it fell away, leaving him with nothing more than a sense of loss and the thudding of his heart in his chest, suddenly he realised his hand, no longer clenched at his side, was clutching one of the spindly tables which held one of the many peculiar instruments that Dumbledore decorated his office with. Dumbledore was gazing at him intensely, and Harry swiftly removed his hand.
"Sorry," Harry looked at his feet and sat back down in front of his professor, realising that the future Dumbledore, who knew Harry, would try to justify his behaviour. Whereas the Dumbledore of the past would view his actions as nothing but extremely rude and verging on the violently insane.
"Sometimes," Harry explained hesitantly, "I find it hard to control my temper."
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows; "You seem to have mastered it quite well in this instance."
"Yeah," Harry rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably and for one split second forgot that this man had no idea who he was, "I thought it would probably be best if I didn't smash up your office again."
The old wizard sat back and contemplated this for a moment, until Harry realised his mistake, "I mean…err…you wouldn't-" But the white-haired man interrupted him,
"No, clearly." He paused for so long a time that Harry wondered whether he was supposed to answer this when- "You're a very interesting young man, Harry, and though I know you can tell me nothing of the future, I think there is a lot more to your situation then you let on." Harry had no idea what to say to this, so he remained silent.
"Well," Dumbledore clapped his hands together and his mood changed as quickly as Fawkes spontaneously combusting, "we can't have you hanging around here until we find out a way to get you home, and it seems James and Lily have mistaken you for a new student, I'm sure they'll wonder what has happened to you if you suddenly disappear. Therefore I suggest you masquerade as a student for now. It should not be too hard as this was your school, I presume, just in a different time."
"But…but…what will…how…" Harry was overwhelmed, pretending to everyone, his parents, lying to them about himself, for maybe even months? How would he manage it? But then the face of his father swam to mind, and he remembered the smell of his mother's perfume, maybe a few months couldn't hurt…
Harry nodded frantically, "Yes, I'm sure I'll cope."
"However, I must stress upon you Harry, as you no doubt already realise, the dire importance that you neither mess with time nor that anyone find out your true origins. To everyone you must appear a student who has transferred last minute. Try to avoid contact with anyone you are connected to in the future, it may seem a cruel request and a lonely existence, but if you do not follow these instructions, you may very well not have an existence."
Harry nodded again in agreement, his insides already squirming with a strange confliction of guilt and comforting familiarity at lying to Dumbledore. He already knew he could not keep Dumbledore's promise, how could he live in a time when his parents were alive and not try and find everything out possible about them? It couldn't be done. Harry's headmaster, however, would of course not realise Harry's desperate need to spend time with his parents. He wouldn't know that Harry had only spent one precious year on earth with them, which he could barely remember. He would not know that they would die to save their son from a man already at large in the world.
"And which house would you like to be in, Harry?"
"Gryffindor." He answered without thinking.
Dumbledore smiled, "I thought you might be from that house, both your parents are, after all, in Gryffindor. However," the wizard paused thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes, "I thought possibly…Slytherin might have suited you, you seem to have, if you'll forgive, a certain sullenness and complication to you that can often be found in members of Salazar's house."
Harry was astounded that he had picked up on it so soon, having only just 'met' him, Dumbledore had picked out a section of Harry's more protected secrets, one that the white-haired professor should not find out about for years. "The sorting hat did consider it, sir, but Gryffindor was the house were my parents were-are currently-in, I suppose it made sense to the hat that I would want to be there."
"Very well, I'm sure, Harry, for however long a period, you have some settling in to do, you will need clothes, of course, and books, I can supply those, for now you are dismissed, it is the weekend, go make yourself at home." Harry was at the door when Dumbledore next spoke, "I will try my best, however Harry, to get you back to your real home."
--
The light breeze rustled the tree's leaves outside, and their shadows shifted in shape accordingly. The steps of the schools flew from beneath Harry's feet as he scanned the grounds for his father or mother. Catching no sight of them he wandered towards the lake and the old oak tree he had his recent encounter with, when he heard a bark of laughter, all too familiar, carried to his ears by the wind.
He knew that laugh, he immediately realised as he sprinted towards the tree and the figures lounging against it, finding himself met with an unbelievable sight.
"Hey, prongs, what's the hurry? You take off in Hogsmeade and don't feel like bothering with wishing your dear friends a farewell?"
Harry looked into the dark eyes of a young and handsome Sirius Black, there was mirth in his eyes and he was unmarred by the horrors of Azkaban, Harry was stunned by how free his always mentally and physically scarred godfather now was. Next to him with book in hand was Remus, tired as always, already exhibiting flecks of grey in his hair. He did not bother to look up at Sirius' greeting. And finally, podgy, small and made to look even more inadequate next to the intelligence of Lupin or the handsomeness of Black, Peter Pettigrew.
Harry stared at them, the intense sadness mixed with his hatred for the rat Pettigrew threw up a desperate struggle within him, until he realised that they were all staring back, looking rather worried.
"Hey, James, did you hear me? Are you okay?"
Harry snapped out of it, he couldn't afford to have a crisis right now, at least not right now, in front of them all. "Yeah. I'm fine." He muttered reflexively.
Sirius smiled in relief, jumped up and flung his arm around Harry's neck. "Good, cause for a second there it looked like you had seen-"
"Look," began Harry, interrupting him, "I'm not who you think I am." Remus pricked up his ears at this, and glanced up from his book, "Oh, yeah?" Sirius smiled, apparently thinking he was going along with some joke of James'.
"No, you really don't get what I'm saying, my name is Harry, I'm a transfer student here, I just happen to look a whole lot like your friend James, trust me, I've already met him. I get why you're confused." It surprised him how easily the lies sprouted from his mouth, but then again, Harry had always wanted to be someone who wasn't-well-Harry, maybe this was his chance.
They all gawped at him like they thought he was insane, Sirius slowly removed the arm from around his neck. "I don't understand," said Peter, screwing up his face.
"Hey, you're just making a really bad joke, right?"
Harry looked around at their expectant faces and felt the glimmer of longing in his heart. A flicker of, for once, not having to try to get people to think he was normal, and before he could help it, he nodded.
"Yeah, you guys are crazy gullible, I sprout a few lines about calling myself Harry and you fall for it? That's hilarious." Harry shook his head, grinning, and fell down against the tree trunk, next to Remus, glancing at the book he was reading. Immediately he jerked it out of his hands and laughed, "What is it with bookworms and this book, eh, Moony?"
He chucked Hogwarts: A History lazily to Sirius, internally shocking himself with so easily he absorbed the role of his father. "Let me guess, this has to be, like, the hundredth time you've read it?"
Remus released a small smile and nodded. "You wouldn't believe the stuff they've got in there, all these legends about the school, like the 'chamber of secrets.'" Harry choked back a laugh, and when they all glanced at his oddly he spluttered, "But that's just a story right, no-ones actually found it? I mean come on, who would believe that Salazar Slytherin built a secret chamber and imprisoned some evil monster in it?"
Certainly not me until I saw it with my own eyes, he thought to himself. But Remus narrowed his eyes at him, "Since when did you know about that?" Harry shrugged, covering up his mistake, and slapped Remus playfully on the back,
"Come on, Moony, living with you means I'm going to pick up some of the boring rubbish you spout sooner or later." He grinned at Sirius, hoping this was the kind of thing James would say. Apparently, according to his laid back grin, it was.
"You're hair is looking a little flat, Prongs." Peter pointed out, Harry's hand travelled instinctively to his hair, which was as tangled and unruly as ever and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to ruffle up his hair like his father did. Instead he patted it a bit and drew his hands back down to his sides, hoping the rest of them wouldn't notice. But Sirius eyed him thoughtfully, "You didn't do it properly, here, let me help."
"No, Padfoot, I-" But Sirius had already launched himself at Harry, wrestling him to the ground and placing him in a headlock, he shoved a fist into Harry's hair and started mussing it up, laughing his bark-like chuckle all the while. "No, come on Sirius," Harry begged between choked sobs of laughter, "Let go, I'm serious-"
"What did you just call yourself?" Sirius asked in mock offence, which made Harry laugh even harder-
"What the hell is going on here?!"
They all turned to see the real James Potter staring at the scene in disbelief, Sirius dropped Harry from his hold. Remus looked between the two almost-identicals in surprise. "James?" Peter peered closer to the standing figure.
"Yes, it's me, who the hell else would it be Wormtail?!"
"Then who in the name of Merlin's flowery boxers are you?" The Marauders, now complete, turned to glare accusingly at Harry, who knew there was only one way out of this where he didn't come off as a complete lunatic, and he burst out laughing, it was, anyway, quite funny.
"Oh my god! You totally fell for it!" He rolled about on the floor, choking out words between bursts of laughter. "You-r-really…thought I was…James, the looks on your faces!" Suddenly they all caught on.
"Wow, that has to be, like…the best prank EVER!" Sirius punched the air, "Seriously, that was genius!"
James shook the outraged look from his face and began chuckling as well, "That was pretty good for a newbie," he admitted.
"Pretty good? That was awesome!" Peter chimed in.
"You fooled me," Remus shrugged.
"Sorry," Harry chuckled, finally pulling himself off from the ground, wiping a tear of mirth away from his eye, "Payback for earlier, you know."
"Payback? Prongs, who is this guy?"
"Um…I'm not entirely sure…someone I gave a nosebleed falling out of a tree, that's for sure."
Harry stood and stuck out his hand, "Harry. Harry, err, Granger." He would have preferred Weasley, but they were already around. James shook his hand, "I guess now we're even, huh?" he asked hopefully, Harry grinned and nodded, resisting the urge to grab his dad and give him a big old hug.
"You a transfer here, Harry?" Remus asked interestedly.
"Yep, you guy's thought I was James and I just couldn't resist."
"No wonder, you guys look exactly alike, what are the chances?"
James looked Harry up and down, "Hey, you do look kind of like me, except your eyes are green."
"What house are you in Harry?" Peter asked, Harry again resisted an urge, this time to punch him.
"Uh, Gryffindor."
"I knew it!" exclaimed Sirius, "No-one who pulled a prank that good could belong anywhere else."
"Yeah, yeah, we get it, it was a good a joke, enough already!" cried James in mock despair as Sirius jumped up, bouncing on the balls of his feet energetically. Remus, sensing this was their moment to leave also levered himself up and brushed the grass of his robes before offering a hand to a struggling Peter. "Come on, Harry, we'll show you around the house, I guess you'll be in our dorm."
"Thanks, that would be great, although I already saw the common room when Lily took me up there."
They all insisted that they showed the new boy the dorm anyway, Remus hoped he wasn't too boisterous, he didn't think he could take another James or Sirius, Harry however, despite his initially very James and Sirius-like prank seemed more subdued than his other friends. As always, the mention of Lilly Evans' name had caused James' head to shoot up and he had exchanged looks with Sirius. Walking up to the castle the young werewolf heard the two of them muttering together: "-did you hear the way he called her Lilly? He's already on a first name basis with her!"
"Relax, Prongs, you're the one who always calls her Evans."
Harry sped up and started walking beside him, Remus could not help but notice the calculating glances Harry kept on throwing at him. "So," he grinned finally, and looked so much like James it was scary, "When's the next full moon? I've kind of lost track of time at the moment."
The moment he had said it Harry looked horrified with himself but the surge of fear that was now sweeping through him meant that Remus did not notice. "How should I know?" he snapped, speeding up his step, trying to somehow escape this danger coming so unexpectedly.
"I, um, really like astronomy," Harry said quickly, looking slightly hurt by the unfriendly way Remus had responded and he immediately felt guilty, "And I saw you reading the book and I thought you seemed like the kind of person who would know about stuff like that-sorry if I was making assumptions."
Remus internally sighed in relief, "No, no, that's fine; I'm just a bit tired, sorry. I think the next full moon is in a couple of weeks."
Harry grinned again and slapped Remus on the back, "Thanks Moony." But as the new student went to go chat to Sirius, only one thought ran through Remus' mind, how in the name of Merlin had Harry known his nick-name? And come to think of it, he had called Sirius Padfoot too hadn't he?
High above the grounds and the boys walking towards the school, up in the turrets of the tallest towers of the castle, someone watched them. There were many questions in his mind too, a burning curiosity and yet a wariness that wisdom enforced in him. It seemed it would take more than a warning to keep a teenage boy from his parents and in truth, he couldn't say he was surprised, he just prayed that time was not so easily altered. With a worried sigh he turned from the window, many things in life are best left unexplained, including perhaps, the strange new addition to Gryffindor house. Walking up the school steps, Harry could have sworn he heard a Phoenix cry from distant heights.
A/N: Argggh! This is so insulting! 31 e-mails in my inbox and not ONE of them from fan-fiction! Please, PLEASE, find it in your heart to write even the shortest of reviews before I collapse sobbing at the evidence coming at me from all directions screaming of my incompetence as a writer! In short: REVIEW or I may never write again, (this is of course a lie; I could never ignore my twisted plot bunnies that long!) But review any way!