Harry froze so suddenly in the doorway that Hermione was unable to stop herself and walked straight into the back of him, knocking them both into a heap on the floor. Disentangling himself from his best friend, Harry looked up at the bright pink, spiky hair and smirking face of Nymphadora Tonks.

"Touring the broom cupboards already little brother?" she said as Harry scrambled to his feet before holding out his hand to help Hermione up. "And only a week in! How scandalous! What would Sirius say?"

"I think we both know what he'd say Dora, and I'm not likely to repeat it here." Dora's smirk grew wider.

"What are you two doing up here anyway?" she asked as Hermione dusted herself off.

"Exploring – though we got a bit lost…"

"Exploring, eh? Is that what you kids are calling it these days? Aren't you still a bit young for that?" Harry blushed – despite being mentally decades older than her, Dora had always been able to rattle him. Before he could respond though, they were interrupted by another voice.

"Well, well, well! What have we got here?"

Harry twisted sharply to see the grinning faces of the Weasley twins. Seeing Fred again, so many years after his death at the Battle of Hogwarts had been emotional – he'd always been close to the twins, and he'd struggled to stop himself from greeting Fred with more familiarity than he could comfortably explain. At this moment in time, however, a combination of Dora and the twins, especially with the mood his 'big sister' was clearly in, was always going to be a recipe for embarrassment for Harry who groaned quietly to himself.

"Seriously –", Hermione whispered to him, "is that some kind of international greeting for troublemakers?"

"Gred. Forge." Dora nodded, a wicked grin on her face. "I've just caught these two stumbling out of a… hey! Where did the door go?" Dora's look of glee at the chance to embarrass Harry further had turned to confusion as she now studied the blank wall where the large wooden door had stood only moments before.

Fred and George both stepped up to the wall with quizzical expressions and began to run their hands over the solid stone surface. "Weird. I'm sure there was a broom cupboard here – George and I hid from Filch in it last year." Fred turned to his twin who nodded in confirmation.

Hermione watched the interplay and realised the opportunity that had presented itself. Nudging Harry to get his attention, she muttered under her breath while the others were distracted by the disappearing door. Harry glanced at her and nodded slightly in agreement then turned and plastered a desperate look onto his face. "Listen… Dora… I'm begging you. Please don't say anything to Padfoot. You know what he's like – I'll never hear the end of it." Harry had deliberately looked away from the twins, leaving Hermione to watch their expressions but a glance her way indicated that dropping the Marauder's name had had the impact they'd desired.

"Sorry, did you say Padfoot?" George asked eagerly.

"Yeah, he's my godfather and adoptive dad – Sirius Black. Why?"

"Does that mean you know who Moony, Wormtail, and Prongs are too?"

Harry chose to assume a confused expression as he faced the Weasley twins. "Yeah – Prongs was my Dad – James Potter - and Moony was their friend Remus."

"What about Wormtail?"

A look of genuine anger slipped onto his face, causing Fred and George to take a step back in surprise. "Pettigrew," he growled. "Bastard gave my parents up to Voldemort – he's the reason they're dead."

Harry felt a hand on each of his shoulders and glanced back to see both Hermione and Dora looking at him comfortingly. He sagged and allowed his anger to drain away. "Sorry, it's just a touchy subject for me."

"No – no problem, Harry." Fred and George looked at each other and, after a moment, nodded at the same time. "Listen, we've got something that might be of interest to you." George pulled a familiar piece of parchment out of his robes and handed it to Harry. "This," he said, "is the secret to our success as pranksters."

"The map!" Harry exclaimed as the twins looked at each other in surprise. "Padfoot told me to keep an eye out for it. He said Wormtail got caught with it in their final year and had it confiscated – idiot. How do you get caught after curfew when you're holding a map that literally shows you exactly where every person in the castle is at that moment in time?"

"You know what this is then?" Fred asked.

"Yep!" Harry took his wand and touched it to the piece of parchment. He looked over at Hermione and smiled warmly, remembering how she had chosen to tell him that she had also returned from the future. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

"What the…?" Dora watched in amazement as lines of ink twisted across the parchment, initially detailing the corridors and classrooms of Hogwarts, before the names of students, teachers and ghosts began appearing in those locations. "Is that…?"

"Everyone currently in the castle," George said proudly. "Best guess is it's tied to the wards somehow."

"It is," said Harry. "I don't know how they managed it, but Padfoot said my Dad and Moony were the ones that activated it once the enchantments were done. Watch this Dora…" Harry tapped his wand against a small symbol in the top right corner of the parchment and declared, "Find Snape." The lines twisted once more until they showed the potions lab and a dot labelled "Severus Snape" in the middle of the parchment. "Wicked." Breathed Fred and George in unison. "We didn't know it did that!" Harry tapped the same symbol twice and the map reverted to the overview of the school.

Fred then struck an elaborate pose and in his most pompous voice intoned. "As the son of Prongs and the godson of Padfoot, we hereby bequeath the Marauders Map unto you. May your pranks be plentiful and may you never be caught."

"Thanks, guys," Harry said with a grin as he folded the map and placed it inside his robe pocket. "If you ever need to borrow it just let me know, I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement…" Harry trailed off as the quintet heard the distinctive sound of a throat being cleared behind them.

"Ah, Harry my boy. I wonder if I might have a few moments of your time." Collectively the group turned to see the twinkling blue eyes of the Headmaster watching them from a distance. "Misters Weasley, Miss Tonks, Miss Granger." He nodded to them in greeting.

"Good morning, Headmaster," Harry replied politely. "Certainly." Harry shot a look at Hermione. "I'll catch up with you in a bit."

"I'll be in the library when you're done."

Albus Dumbledore walked smartly back to his office with Harry striding alongside him, making small talk as they did so. He kept glancing over at the boy with a puzzled expression on his face. The Headmaster was used to students nervously stammering when he spoke directly to them, with an eagerness to answer any questions he had as quickly as they possibly could. Harry Potter, however, spoke confidently, walked alongside him as though he were a peer, and had an infuriating habit of answering his questions without giving any real information away. Having used this tactic for years himself, he was now on the other side of the equation and didn't like it one bit.

The gargoyle that guarded the entrance to his office jumped aside as they approached and soon the pair had climbed the stairs and were stepping inside. Albus watched as Harry looked around and, ignoring the Headmaster entirely, strode toward Fawkes' perch. He watched as the Phoenix cocked his head at the approaching boy before letting out a few quavers of song and allowing Harry to gently stroke his head. Albus couldn't hear what Harry was saying to his familiar as he was speaking too softly but he was astonished when Fawkes bowed his head to the boy, seemingly in acquiescence. He took a seat quietly behind his desk, watching Harry as he now turned his attention to the sorting hat.

"Greetings Mr Potter." The tear along its wide brim moved, allowing the hat to speak as it had done at the sorting.

"Hello again…" Harry paused. "… I'm sorry, I don't know what to call you…"

"You may call me Sim, Mr Potter."

Albus' eyebrows shot up – he'd been Headmaster of Hogwarts for almost three decades and he hadn't known the hat even had a name.

"Thank you, Sim, – please call me Harry – ". He broke off as Albus coughed quietly to draw Harry's attention back to their meeting. It had been years since anyone had so deliberately ignored him and Albus worked quickly to squash his rising irritation, instead choosing to place a look of grandfatherly indulgence on his face. "My apologies Sim – as much as I would enjoy a conversation with you, I had agreed to speak with the Headmaster now."

"Not a problem Harry. I would indeed enjoy the opportunity to speak with you another time…"

"I'm sure something could be arranged." Albus interrupted, eager to grasp a potential opportunity to work his way into the boy's good graces. "Now Harry, would you please take a seat?" Harry moved back to the comfortable chair in front of the desk and sat calmly, watching him. "Lemon drop?" Albus offered.

"No thank you, Sir."

The pair sat in silence and observed one another – much like the twinkling eyes, grandfatherly expressions and dodging of questions, this was another of Albus' favourite tricks. Usually, a long enough silence would make whoever he was talking to uneasy, and it was much easier to get what you wanted from a conversation if the other person was off-balance. This silence, however, was now beginning to stretch to a period that was uncomfortable even for Albus, but Harry had merely settled into the chair, crossed his legs and continued to look right back at him. Albus sent the lightest touch of Legilimency at Harry to scan his surface thoughts without success. Harry maintained eye contact, his expression giving nothing away and Albus couldn't help but feel like he was being sized up.

"Sir," Harry said abruptly, breaking the silence. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Yes, my boy. I have something for you." Albus turned, frowning as soon as his face could no longer be seen, but prepared to return to his previous expression before facing Harry again. He opened the top drawer of his desk with a tap of his wand and pulled out a long, shimmering piece of fabric, which he then presented to Harry. "This belonged to your father. He left it in my possession before he died, and it is time it was returned to its rightful owner."

Forcing down the glee that was rapidly rising inside him, Harry feigned ignorance. "What is it, Sir?" he asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"Why don't you try it on?" Albus suggested, his eyes twinkling once more. "Your father and his friends made extensive use of it in their time at Hogwarts – I would imagine you and your friends may find it similarly helpful…"

Albus watched as Harry picked up the cloak and threw it around his shoulders. He saw the joy in the emerald green eyes of the young man before him and smiled indulgently at him. "I trust you will use it well?"

"Yes, Sir!" Harry replied enthusiastically. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me," he said, waving his hand. "I am simply returning an item that belongs to you."

Silence fell again. "Was there anything else Sir?"

Albus studied Harry once more. "Only that I'm here to help, so please do feel free to come and speak with me about anything that may be troubling you."

"Thank you, Sir. The rest of the first years will be very happy to hear you're willing to help us! I'll let them know right now!" Harry dashed for the door without being dismissed, not allowing time for Albus to stutter a rebuttal that the offer was for the boy himself, not open to all students. By the time the Headmaster had gathered his thoughts and wits, Harry was long gone.

Harry smirked as he strode down the corridor away from the Headmaster's office. He knew what the old man was trying and was certain he could make Dumbledore regret making such an offer in a very short time – especially if he roped in Dora and the twins.

As he made his way toward the library, he began to pay more attention to his surroundings and the smug smile began to fall from his face. He walked past familiar features and objects and remembered his previous time in Hogwarts, the way the castle had crumbled and fallen to ruin in places, seemingly mirroring the view that muggles saw if they stumbled across the old buildings, following the final battle with Voldemort and he vowed to himself that he wouldn't allow the students, nor this institution, to suffer the same fate again.

He blinked and shook his head to clear his thoughts. Without realising it, his feet had carried him to the huge double doors that marked the entrance to the library. Shrugging off his memories of the future, he pushed the doors open, stepped inside and followed the well-trodden route to Hermione's side. When he arrived at their usual table, however, he found the rest of the study group present and Hermione in the midst of an impassioned argument with Ernie Macmillan about muggle technology.

"Listen, I'm not suggesting the muggles are perfect Ernie – far from it – but how can you dismiss the other 57 million people in the United Kingdom, just because they don't have magic?" Hermione looked around at the others at the table and focused on Blaise Zabini. "You said you've got your own broom at home – what's the highest and fastest you've flown?"

Blaise frowned. "A couple of hundred feet and about sixty miles an hour. Why?"

"There's a muggle aircraft that will fly passengers at well over a thousand miles per hour at sixty-eight thousand feet. That aircraft started transporting people back in the 1970s – a few years after the Americans walked on the surface of the moon and returned to Earth safely."

That statement caused a noticeable split in the group. The muggleborns and Half-Bloods that knew muggle history all nodded in agreement while the rest either scoffed in disbelief or were stunned by the ingenuity.

"That's impossible." sneered Theodore Nott. "There's no way muggles have been to the moon when wizards haven't even made it there."

"I tell you what," Hermione said. "I'll owl my parents and ask them to send some muggle history books. Three or four different ones by different authors – that way, if the details match, you'll know I'm telling the truth."

Harry had watched this conversation from a distance but now slipped into the empty seat next to Hermione, who grinned at him as he sat down. The rest of the study group had dissolved into conversation with the Purebloods questioning those who knew muggle history. It seemed like a small thing but anything that had their classmates questioning what they 'knew' was a good start.

"Hang on," Padma Patil had been listening carefully to the conversation and had slipped away into the stacks when Theo Nott had uttered his dismissal of muggle achievements, but had now returned with a book in her hand. "If what you're saying is true, how come there's nothing about it in there?" She dropped a copy of the 'Muggle Studies' textbook on the table and stepped back, crossing her arms as she did so.

Harry picked up the book and briefly flicked through the pages, chuckling as he did so. When he reached the section on muggle transport, he let out a loud belly laugh, then immediately looked around to make sure Madam Pince hadn't heard him. Once he was confident he was safe from the librarian's wrath, he turned back to the group. "Seriously? This is what's being taught about muggles?" He passed the book to Justin Finch-Fletchley who snorted in derision. "The stuff in this book is about seventy or eighty years out of date. Take a look at that car – modern ones don't need someone to turn a crank to get it started, just a key, and probably more than half of all muggle families in England own one. Just stepping out the door of the Leaky Cauldron would show you how out of date this is."

Justin passed the book over to Hermione who scanned the contents page and sniffed. She closed the book and placed it back in the centre of the table. "Based on the material, I think most muggleborns and muggle-raised students could pass this O.W.L. easily."

"Is that right, Hermione?" Cedric Diggory, who had been studying at the next table over, joined the conversation. He stood and calmly walked over to the study group. "Are you finished with this? I've got homework to do, and I've left my copy downstairs." Harry nodded and passed the book over to the third-year Hufflepuff. "You're muggleborn," Cedric continued, turning to look at Hermione. "Do you think you could pass the Muggle Studies O.W.L. exam?"

"This year? Possibly but it would be a stretch." Hermione ignored the smirk and wink Harry dropped her way – he was evidently recalling the Outstanding O.W.L. she had received via self-study when she decided to sit it after the war to, in her own insistent words, 'help with her role at the Ministry'. Harry and Ron had been convinced that the real reason she sat it was just that she missed taking exams. "By the end of our second year?" She looked around at the group and frowned in contemplation. "There are twelve of us in this study group at the moment. Justin and I are muggleborn, Harry, Hannah and Tracey are Half-bloods and the rest of the group," she indicated to Neville, Susan, Ernie, Padma, Daphne, Theo and Blaise who were all watching with interest, "are Purebloods. If we can convince the staff to allow us to sit the exam at the end of next year, I believe the five non-Purebloods could tutor the rest of the group into an O.W.L. pass by the time exams come around, yes."

Silence fell as expressions of disbelief appeared on most of the faces around the table. Harry, however, merely looked amused by the situation. "Getting an O.W.L. out of the way next year? I'm in," he said. "Anyone else want to join us?"

As the study session ended and the group (with the exception of Hermione who had begun to feverishly work on a study plan), packed their things away, Daphne tapped Harry on the shoulder. He turned around to see Daphne flanked by Hannah and Susan.

"We've not had a chance to catch up properly since we've been here," she said. "Do you and Neville want to go for a walk by the lake?"

"Sure." Harry smiled. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?" Hermione glanced up from the parchment she was currently working on and reached out to pull another Muggle Studies book towards her.

"We're going to go for a walk."

"Sure. I'll see you in the common room in a bit. I want to get a start on this."

Waving goodbye to Hermione, the small group made their way down to the castle entrance and out into the grounds. As they walked they chatted about their classes, how they felt things were going for them, and what their common rooms and houses were like.

"You look shattered mate," Harry said to Neville. "Too many late nights?"

"Eurgh." Neville groaned. "Something like that. "As bad as you thought my snoring was that time you stayed over, Ron Weasley is way worse. When he gets going I'm not sure if we'd be better off having a Fwooper in the dorm with us instead."

Hannah giggled. "Neville, Fwooper song can drive people insane."

"If he doesn't stop snoring I'm going to go insane anyway! At least Fwooper song is beautiful to listen to at first! Ron sounds like Sirius' motorbike when it's just starting up, but it goes on all night."

"Go to Professor McGonagall. She might be able to help." Daphne advised. Neville bobbed his head in agreement.

"Hey Daph," Harry turned his attention to his Slytherin friend and asked a question that had been puzzling him for a few days. "What's going on with Malfoy? I thought he would have been interested in joining our study group – making connections and all that - but he seems to be avoiding me."

"You've managed to confuse him."

"How?" Harry asked bemusedly.

"By being yourself. You're nothing like he expected you to be and it's thrown him. The last few days he's been completely out of sorts. I've not heard him call anyone a blood traitor or a mudblood in about two days. It's been quite nice really."

"Is that type of thing normal in Slytherin, Daphne?" Susan asked with a frown.

Daphne shrugged. "I've not heard too much of it from anyone other than Malfoy. He was trying to set himself up as the leader of the first-years but he's not really got anything to back up his ambition. The Malfoys aren't an old enough family yet to have a seat on the Wizengamot and, apart from Crabbe and Goyle whose fathers owe Lucius money, and Pansy whose father is apparently considering a betrothal contract between them, no one is taking him seriously. His dithering over Harry's offer to join the study group lost him most of the little respect he had from the upper years too."

By the middle of their third week, the story of the group of first-years who were planning to sit an O.W.L. before they'd even selected their third-year electives had permeated every corner of the castle. Not everyone in the group had been up for the challenge; Tracey, Hannah, Theo and Justin had cried off, preferring to spend more time on their current studies than on attempting to become some of the youngest ever students to achieve a passing grade in an O.W.L. exam, and this left Harry and Hermione the challenge of organising and tutoring the remainder of the group. Fortunately, as Harry well knew, Hermione's organisational skills were legendary, and he expected everything would go smoothly. It certainly helped that he'd been bringing Susan, Neville and Daphne on trips into the muggle world for a couple of years and they were much more open to some of the 'wild suggestions' that Hermione was making about muggle technology, having seen at least some of it with their own eyes.

The Muggle Studies teacher, Professor Fiddlewood, hadn't been impressed at all by the group of upstart youngsters who believed they could succeed through self-study of his course, and had denied their request for both faculty supervision and the chance to sit the O.W.L. exam. Fortunately, Padma had appealed to Professor Flitwick who was delighted to find the group eager to further their understanding of muggles and agreed to assist, intervening via Professor McGonagall and speaking on their behalf, thereby gaining them the opportunity to attempt the exam. It had, of course, helped that Hermione had presented a detailed plan of study, ensuring that all the objectives of the course could be accomplished and was hoping to source previous examination papers in order to best prepare the group.

She'd been so caught up in this preparation that she hadn't even realised that her birthday had crept up on her.

When her alarm went off on the morning of September 19th, Hermione swung her legs out of bed and stretched before grabbing her dressing gown and padding across the room to the shared bathroom. When she exited half an hour later, dressed and ready for the day, she noticed an envelope and a small, wrapped parcel resting on her pillow. She picked up the envelope and smiled – she'd recognise that chicken scratch handwriting anywhere – then opened it to read the message inside the card.

Dear Hermione,

Happy birthday!

I just wanted to thank you for being such an amazing friend. I know I've not always been the best at showing it, but I honestly do appreciate everything you do for me.

Love,

Harry

Hermione beamed with happiness as she carefully placed the card on her bedside table. She then turned her attention to the meticulously wrapped package. It was obvious upon lifting the parcel that Harry had picked out a book for her and she peeled back the paper to find a note obscuring the cover.

I saw this and couldn't help but think of you!

She moved the note out of the way and began laughing as she caught sight of the cover illustration; a small, brunette girl sat on a box, surrounded by thick books. Giggling quietly to herself, she placed the copy of Roald Dahl's Matilda next to the card, ready to be read that night.

A/N: The recommendation for this chapter is a WIP and, although it's not had an update for a while, the author is still actively writing so I'm hopeful they'll come back to the story again soon. Much like all my other recommendations, it's a story I've gone back to again and again.

"Double Back" by Methos2523