Encounters of the Future Sort

April Fools

Notes 1/24/24:

This chapter will get into different POV's. I'm excited. Hope you enjoy!

James

April 1st, 1996

Gryffindor Tower

A very short while later, given his quidditch star athleticism, James arrived at the portrait hole to the Gryffindor common room.

"Fortis leo," he panted. The fat lady simply eyed him and did not admit entrance. He took a deep breath to compose himself and said once again, quite clearly: "Fortis leo."

"That's not the password," the fat lady said simply.

"But it was just this morning! C'mon—I'm in a hurry!"

"No password, no entrance." The fat lady said firmly.

James frantically looked around the corridor for a fellow Gryffindor, but it was empty. "You know this is my House—just let me in!"

"Hey Harry, forgot the password?" A boy about James' age rounded the corner. He had a round face and was holding some kind of odd, exotic potted plant. "I actually do remember it this time, it's my grans first name—"

"Who are you and why—? Oh forget it, I'm in a hurry, need recruits—just spit it out already!" James waved his arms about impatiently.

"O-okay," the boy stammered, clutching his plant pot. "A-augusta solis."

"Finally," James clambered through the portrait hole. He looked around the common room franticly for someone—anyone—he knew but came up blank. In fact, he'd never seen any of these people. Sure, he had his moments of being self-absorbed and oblivious, but this was just strange. A flash of red hair caught his eye and he darted over to the fireplace. The red head heard him coming and turned around—it wasn't Lily.

"Oh, hey Harry." She smiled, adjusting her fiery locks in a ponytail. "I thought you went to the library with Ron?"

The fire danced shadows on James' face as he stared at her speechless, a strange feeling creeping into his gut. This was the third time he'd been called Harry—why had everyone suddenly forgotten his first name?

"You know," said a very bushy haired girl seated beside the red head, "you really should be, Harry. I finished that essay days ago."

"I'm not Harry, I'm James." James said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The red head and the bushy haired girl met his eyes with shock, then noting the conviction on his face, they exchanged a worried glance. The red head leaned over and whispered something in other girl's ear that sounded an awful lot like, "I think he's finally cracked."

The bushy haired girl bit her lip. "Er—are you feeling all right, Harry?"

"I'm not Harry," James repeated firmly. "I'm James. Now if you don't mind, I'm in a bit of a hurry—have you seen Frank Longbottom around?"

The bushy haired girl peered around James and anxiously eyed the boy tending to his plant. "Um…no?" she whispered, as though compelling him to lower his voice. "You saw him at St. Mungos, right?"

"St. Mungos?" James knitted his brow. "No—he's a seventh year." The girls looked very confused and increasingly concerned. "He's Head Boy? Ringing any bells?"

They just looked up at him with very wide eyes.

James rolled his eyes in frustration. "Okay, maybe you've seen Lily Evans then? I really shouldn't ask her for another favor today, but apparently she'll do anything for our precious Remus—"

The bushy haired girl put a hand over her mouth and squeaked, while the red head gently grabbed his elbow. "Hey, why don't you sit down—"

"I don't have time to keep explaining myself," James huffed in frustration, "poor Moony has a face full of dung as we speak, so thank you—I'll be off!" He made to leave, but the bushy haired girl grabbed the sleeve of his robes.

"It's okay, Harry…you obviously need to talk, and Ginny and I are here for you—"

James shrugged her off. "Am I speaking in Gobbledygook or something? I need troops! The battle of moldy fruit is raging as we speak—Frank would be ideal, obviously, but Marlene also has a good arm on her, so—"

The bushy haired girl stood and rested her hand gently on his shoulder. "I'm Hermione, remember?" she implored uncertainly. "And this," she pointed to the red head, "is Ginny."

"Well, I don't believe we've met." James admitted shortly. "Now do either of you have a stomach for dung or—what now?"

He eyed them as Ginny whispered something in Hermione's ear.

"Right," Hermione nodded. "Right—we really should…" she glanced up at James apprehensively. "Er—Harry?"

"James," he said somewhat condescendingly, excentuating the syllables.

"Er—all right then, J-james…" Hermione smiled unconvincingly, as though it pained her to say. "Why don't we go upstairs for a moment?"

Ginny stood and slid her arm firmly into his. "Yeah, we have something to show you."

"Look, I really have to get back to Sirius, Remus, and Peter." James said calmly. Maybe he wasn't being clear enough? "The Barons' gone, so Peeves is bloody unhinged right now."

Hermione looked like she'd just seen a ghost, and Ginny tightened her grip on his arm.

"Sure," Ginny said soothingly, like he was a child and they were playing make believe. "Sirius has a firework stash under his floorboards—we'll create a diversion. Peeves will love it."

"Really? How d'you know that?" James bewildered, his thick head drawing a nonsensical conclusion about Sirius and his female exploits. "And actually, that's a great idea!"

Ginny grinned, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Let's go, then!"

They hurried up the spiral stairs and into the fifth year boy's dorm. James burst out laughing when he spotted bright orange flair hanging about one of the bedposts.

"Since when has Peter liked the Chudley Cannons?" He wiped a tear from his eye at all the posters pinned on the wall. "They're the worst team in the league! Wait…"

James slowly looked around at the rest of the dorm. It wasn't just the quidditch posters that were different, the posters beside his own bed were missing and there was a great, snowy owl perched in the window—

"Hullo," James walked over to greet the owl. Ginny was still firmly holding onto his arm as if she was afraid he might fall over. "Who are you? Have you got a letter for me?"

"That's Hedwig," Ginny nudged gently. "You know, your owl?" She glanced at Hermione and mouthed, "Maybe he was cursed?"

James was quite confused at the rearranged dorm, the owl that wasn't his, and these two girls he'd never seen before that thought his name was Harry...but he certainly knew he wasn't cursed.

Although, he thought, that's exactly what a cursed person would think…

His mind flashed back to the exploding cauldron that morning and what Remus had said about the scent of powerful magic, trying to fit all the pieces together. Something wasn't right.

Hermione threw back her bushy hair and began rummaging through a trunk at the foot of the bed.

"Hey—why are you going through my trunk?"

"I-I don't mean to invade, I'm sorry, I just—oh!" Hermione held up a leather-bound picture album. She sat comfortably on his bed like she'd been in his dorm countless times before and opened it. "Here, look."

James adjusted his glasses further up his nose and gaped. These were pictures of, well—him. But in these pictures, most of them anyway, he looked older. Maybe eighteen or twenty. And so did Sirius, Remus, Peter, and…Lily?

"Wait…" He narrowed his eyes. "Why do I look old and why is Evans with me?" His eyes widened as they fell upon a picture of them kissing, with Lily dressed all in white. "Is this supposed to be my wedding?"

Hermione and Ginny were watching him intently. James looked back and forth between them, waiting for an answer. This was too much. There had to be a rational explanation. He racked his brain, then suddenly remembered what day it was and his face erupted into a giant grin.

"Oh, I get it. April fools—this is a joke!"

Hermione shook her head slowly. "It is April 1st…but this isn't a joke, Harry."

"Ha ha—yeah, it all makes sense now. This is one huge prank to make me think I'm forward in time, or—or in a parallel dimension, or something…"

That was it! The pieces clicked together. His unyielding persistence of pining after Lily had become a long running joke between the Marauders, and his fruitless efforts to woo her had peaked recently. Last week, he had made quite a public spectacle of himself while asking her out. This involved riding around on his broomstick in the common room, clutching a tiger lily between his teeth that was charmed to sing "Isn't She Lily" to the tune of Isn't She Lovely by Stevie Wonder. In response, Lily's face had turned as red as her hair and she had yelled at him:

"I wouldn't go out with you even in a parallel dimension!"

Her words echoed in his head. And today was April Fool's, of all days. Of course this was payback. He was sure of it.

Ginny frowned, watching him closely. "I think we should go to Madam Pomfrey—"

"Is Evans in on it too?" James asked hopefully. "Did she put you up to this? She's bloody brilliant so probably, no way Moony would agree to pull this without her…"

The two girls were speechless, and Hermione jumped as James snapped the photo album shut.

"I should go offer Evans my congratulations. Seriously, 'O' for effort—she nearly had me!" His ego swelled at the thought of Lily putting so much effort into pranking him and he ran a hand through his untidy hair, smugly. "Married to Evans. Huh." His face erupted in a smile. "Kind of cruel really, when I think about it. Definitely her idea…"

Hermione and Ginny just continued to stare at him, so he raised an eyebrow and waved a hand slowly over their faces.

"Hull-o? So…where were those fireworks again?"

"A-april Fools!" Hermione stuttered, attempting to smile.

"Yeah, almost had you!" Ginny agreed far too enthusiastically. "Forget the fireworks—let's go find, um, Lily?"

"S-she, um...wants to know if you fell for it," Hermione nodded feverishly.

James ruffled his hair again, his head becoming larger still. "She does? Okay—"

Ginny hooked arms with him and began towards the door. "Of course she does! She's this way, c'mon…"

"She really is brilliant, isn't she?" James sighed, feeling dazed.

"Maybe a love potion?" Ginny whispered.

"From his dead mother?" Hermione mouthed.

Ginny shrugged. "Stranger things have happened…" she grimaced, appearing to rethink this. "Probably?"

James was listening but paid them no mind, his thoughts still wrapped around the photo album, dreamily humming Isn't She Lovely as they made their way through the portrait hole.