Disclaimer: Forgery is illegal in most jurisdictions . . . actually, I'd go so far as to say that it's illegal everywhere.

Peas Porridge Hot

Harry woke up and stumbled over to the toilet to void his bladder. "Oh yeah," he mumbled with a smile. "That's it . . . ahhhhhhhhhhhhh," he groaned in deep satisfaction.

To the rest of the world, it looked more like this.

The students were gathered in the great hall to have their first breakfast of the term when a naked boy appeared on the floor in a flash of light. They watched in shock as he got up, stumbled to the head table, and urinated in the Headmaster's porrige.

"Ahem," Dumbledore tried to attract the stranger's attention.

"Oh yeah," the stranger replied.

"Excuse me," Dumbledore tried again.

"That's it," the stranger said smugly.

"Uh."

"Ahhhhhhhhhh." The stranger groaned in deep satisfaction.

"Potter," McGonagall screamed. "What is the meaning of this." Harry's eyes shot open.

"Uh . . . hello Professor."

"It wasn't me Professor," James protested. "Great idea though, good one mate."

"This means something," Harry mumbled when a boy that looked like his dead father jumped to his feet and protested his innocence.

"Just admit it," Lilly said in exasperation. "Honestly, I thought you'd outgrown this sort of thing."

"Way to go James," Sirius cheered.

"Yep, definitely means something." Harry restated his earlier statement.

"Care to introduce yourself young man?" Dumbledore asked with a tin . . . that's twinkle in his eye.

"Sure thing," Harry agreed. "The name's Harry I mean not Harry."

"Well Mr. Notharry, welcome to Hogwarts." Dumbledore said grandly. "If you don't mind my asking, where does your middle name Amin come from?"

"Africa," Harry said without missing a beat. "So this is Hogwarts huh?"

"Yes it is," Dumbledore confirmed. "Are you the new exchange student?"

"Sure, why don't we go with that." Harry said. "Do you have my scholarship money ready?"

"Scholarship money?" Dumbledore said dumbly.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "You know the money needed to buy my clothes, books, wand, pornography, etc."

"Pornography?" McGonagall asked.

"From the Latin words porne and grapho," Harry explained. "Literally pictures of prostatutes."

"Very good Mr. Notharry," Dumbledore said in approval. "Five points to . . . uh."

"Why don't you just add money to my scholarship," Harry suggested.

"Excellent idea," Dumbledore agreed. "Why don't we go work out the details right now?"

"Sure, let's go."

"From the future?" Dumbledore asked after the two of them were out of sight.

"Yep, how'd you know?"

"It happens," Dumbledore replied with a shrug. "Can't have this much magic in one place without odd stuff happening. Don't worry about not changing things or any of that. Things changed the moment you came back in time, nothing you can do one way or another that will change things."

"Cool . . . the money?"

"Comes from a special Hogwarts fund set up to benefit time travelers," Dumbledore said. "You may have five thousand Galleons and one school robe before you make your trip to Diagon Alley."

"That's it?"

"That's it," Dumbledore confirmed. "Here's your sack of gold, and here's a robe."

"That's a old used sock."

"Well." Dumbledore waved his wand. "Now it's a robe."

"Cheap bastard," Harry muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Where's the nearest floo?"

"Right behind you," Dumbledore said. "Have a nice trip."

"I'll give you a nice trip," Harry muttered. "Diagon Alley." Harry jumped through the floo and arrived in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Afternoon stranger," Tom greeted him. "Now, I try not to judge."

"But you're wondering why I'm not wearing this robe in my hands?" Harry asked.

"That's right."

"It itches," Harry explained. "Any other questions?"

"Nope, that covers it."

"Great," Harry said. "Where can I buy some lottery tickets?"

"Right here," Tom said. "But you better hurry, the drawing is in a few seconds."

"Right," Harry said as he checked the date and time. "Put down . . ." Harry rattled off a long string of numbers. "Got that?"

"Got it," Tom confirmed. "Buy it quick."

"Here you go," Harry dropped a few coins on the table. "Did we make it?"

"Just in time," Tom confirmed. The two of them watched as the numbers on Harry's ticket lit up one by one until the whole thing was flashing. "Never seen anyone get all one hundred numbers before," Tom said in shock. "How'd you know how to do that?"

"Lost a bet and had to memorise some obscure things," Harry replied. To this day he could never figure out why he had to memorise the winning numbers for the largest unclaimed pot in history but it sure was lucky that the drawing happened to be on the same day he arrived in the past.

"Oh . . ." Tom seemed to consider Harry's reply. "Better get down to Gringotts to claim your win.

"Later Tom," Harry said on his way out the door. Harry ignored the stares as he walked to Gringotts wizarding bank, he felt no need to put on an uncomfortable robe just to conform to their sensibilities.

"Hold it." Two imposing goblins blocked his way.

"What can I do for you two?" Harry asked.

"Can we intrest you in a life insurance policy?" The goblins asked.

"Nope."

"Care to start a retirement fund?"

"Don't need that either."

"How about a box of goblin scout cookies?"

"Got mint chocolate?"

"One box left," the goblins said.

"How much?"

"One Galleon a box."

"I'll take it," Harry said. The goblins handed him his box of cookies and allowed him to enter the bank. Harry walked up to counter and presented his ticket. "Pay up."

"Care to make any other wagers?" The goblin asked hopefully.

"Put half of it on the Harpies to win," Harry agreed.

"You do know that they are behind by one hundred points do you not?"

"Yep," Harry agreed.

"And that the game has been going for two weeks?"

"I have a feeling that they'll come out of nowhere and win in the next five minutes," Harry said with a shrug. He'd also spent a lot of time memorising the outcomes of every Quidditch in the last fifty years.

"Care to place a side wager on that?" The goblin asked eagerly.

"Sure," Harry agreed. "What odds are you going to give me?"

"Two thousand to three?"

"How about a million to one?"

"How about two thousand to one?"

"I'll put five thousand on it," Harry agreed. "Want another side bet on the point spread?"

"You a seer?"

"Nope."

"Then sure," the goblin said. "A gentlemen's wager of fifty galleons?"

"Fifty galleons says the Harpies will win with one point," Harry said. "Deal?"

"Deal," the goblin agreed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to place a couple wagers of my own."

"Oh?"

"You said you weren't a seer yes?"

"Yes."

"But I just realised that you never said anything about being a time traveler."

"Oh . . . good point." The goblin returned and turned on the wireless.

"Well, it seems that you win all of your wagers," the goblin said with a grin. "Pleasure doing business with you Mr . . ."

"I've been going by the name of Notharry," Harry said. "Harry Amin Notharry."

"More imaginative then the last time traveler."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I believe he called himself. Uh . . . M'name? Well, I'm not a criminal."

"I'd just woken up," Harry protested. "I'm not my best before I've had a chance to wake up."

"Will you be opening an account with us Mr. Notharry?"

"What intrest rates are you offering?"

"What do you remember about the stock market?" The goblin countered.

"Not much," Harry admitted. "Few chances to make a lot of money if nothing changes."

"Write them down," the goblin said. "And I think you'll find our intrest rates on savings accounts to be very competitive."

"I'll send you a letter later," Harry agreed. "For now, I just need enough to go shopping for clothes and such."

"You do know that you can just sign a draft against your account do you not?"

"Really?" Harry asked. "Then I guess there's no more reason to stick around, see you later."

"Goodbye Mr. Notharry." Harry walked out of Gringotts and his attention was immediately captured by a window display. Walking into the shop, Harry walked right up to the front counter and cleared his throat.

"Can I help you?" The shopkeeper asked as he turned around. "Uh . . . you did realise that you weren't wearing any clothing."

"Yup," Harry agreed. "Goblin scout cookie?"

"I'm on a diet," the shopkeeper said quickly. "What can I do for you?"

"What's that thing in the window?"

"That item is what we in the business call a 'forger's pen.' It's a borderline legal item that is used to replicate writing styles and signatures." The Shopkeeper continued, "it also replicates magical signatures, blood signatures, and it impossible to detect the difference between a copy made by the pen and an original document."

"Oh?" Harry regarded the item with undisguised intrest. "How is it at making wills?"

"It excels at making wills," the shopkeeper said. "But that is of course illegal unless you are merely making a copy of an original document."

"I'll take it," Harry said.

"You do know that as a restricted item, it must be registered with the Ministry don't you?"

"Of course," Harry agreed. "Just let me see that pen . . . Lucius Malfoy," he said as he signed 'his' name.

"Very good Mr. Malfoy, and how will you be paying for this?"

"Just take it out of my family vault," Harry said. "Let me sign a draft for you." Harry spent the rest of the day shopping and he returned to Hogwarts with new clothes and such.

"Mr. Notharry," McGonagall met him at the door. "The Headmaster has requested that you meet with him as soon as you arrive."

"Sure, I just got to take care of some business first." Harry demured.

"Now Mr. Notharry," McGonagall said sternly. "The password is Unko."

"Unko?'

"Some sort of Japanese candy," McGonagall explained. "Now come with me."

"Yes Professor," Harry agreed with a sigh. Harry followed McGonagall to the Headmaster and took a seat.

"The Headmaster should be here soon," McGonagall said. "I expect you to wait here until he arrives."

"But . . ."

"No buts Mr. Notharry," McGonagall interrupted. "You will wait right here until he arrives."

"Fine." Harry's attention returned to the urgent problem that he'd been unable to take care of earlier . . . he really had to use the bathroom. The minutes went by and the . . . pressure increased.

"Where the hell is he?" Harry growled. He'd been waiting in the Headmaster's office for several hours now and he had to go . . . uh . . . you know. "That's it," Harry screamed. "I can't hold it any longer." Harry eyed the Headmaster's dust bin, the Headmaster's desk, and finally the Headmaster's . . .

IIIIIIIIII

"And that's what I needed to speak with you about," Dumbledore finished.

"None at this time." Harry glanced down at his new watch. "Well," he said with a yawn. "I've got to go now."

"You may use my private toilet," the Headmaster said magnanimously.

"Already used your fancy toilet over there," Harry said with a wave towards the corner. "I ment that I've got to leave."

"Fancy toilet?" The Headmaster said with growing dread.

"Yup," Harry agreed. "Bye bye." With that, Harry jumped out of his seat and walked out of the office. He'd barely gotten to the base of the steps when Dumbledore's scream of dismay reached his ears. There was surprisingly little consequence resulting from Harry's actions, though most students did find it a bit odd when the Headmaster decided to add a six hour course to teach the difference between a toilet and a Pensieve.

IIIIIIIIII

Lucius Malfoy massaged his temples. A huge headache was all that was left from yesterday fun. He was approaching the end of his time at Hogwarts and his father already wanted him to insure the continuance of the family line. At least the girl he chose was the future sister-in-law of Lucius's friend.
Otherwise it would be unbearable. As it was hee could always count on Rodophus to see when he was about to be sick from courting the boring and somewhat stupid girl and take him out to have some fun.

At the moment though as he woke up on the floor of the common room, he had a chance to enjoy certain drawbacks of his friend method. He was just about to go looking for a hangover potion when the flames in the fireplace flamed green showing a frowning expression of Hostilianus Malfoy.

"Lucius!" the man exclaimed about four times too loud for the young man "Look at yourself! Is this how the heir of Malfoy family is supposed to present himself?"

"I haven't got a chance to..."

"No matter. What I want to know is do you have any idea how could 30,000 disappear from the family account when I'm sure they were there yesterday morning."

"Father?"

"What was even more interesting was that when I enquired about it I was informed that the whole amount was withdrawn by my own son in various places on Diagon and Knockturn Alleys. Do your have anything to add to that, Lucius?"

"Father, I..."

"Never mind. I'm sure I don't want to hear that. I'm not worried about the money even though I'd appreciate if you tries to control yourself more next time but I shudder to think how our reputation could have suffered when my son went on some insane shopping spree... I expect you to be here in four hours. Do make sure that you are presentable enough to pass for a Malfoy."

With that he was gone. Lucius massaged his temples again. Then he notices Rodolphus standing in the doorway.

"30 000?" he asked

"Look at it this way. At least we know we had fun yesterday."

"True enough. But right now I believe we both need a shower. Desperately."

IIIIIIIIII

Elsewhere Harry took a piece of parchment and started writing

Last will and testament of Peter Pettigrew

If this will is open than it means that I am dead and I don't doubt that I'll meat my end in a battle. I imagine that for everyone in the room it was a great shock to discover my face under the Death Eater mask...

. . . I'm sorry James, I always loved you . . . or more specifically your stag form. Looked like the goat I lost my . . .

. . . and so I leave everything to the new student Harry Amin Notharry, I know it's not much, and I know that I don't have any connection to Mr. Notharry. But I know that none of my real friends would want anything that came from a dirty traitor like me.

Signed,

Peter Pettigrew

Harry finished with a smile of satisfaction, wouldn't Hermione be happy to see that he was being proactive in taking care of his work now rather then later. Or . . . or would Hermione be unhappy that he was foraging several documents. Hmmm . . . perhaps it all evened out? No matter, Harry dismissed the thought. He had work to do and things to prepare for.

"I still think you have a better pair then I do Trixie." Harry's pondering were interrupted by the arrival of a pair of rather attractive sisters.

"But I just love your hair Cissy," Trixie protested. "You really are prettier then I am."

"Why don't we just agree that we're both gorgeous?" Cissy suggested.

Ignoring their mindless banter, Harry contemplated the Black sisters. On the one hand they were both smoking hot . . . on the other they were both really evil. Hmmmm, Harry hmmmed to himself, "they haven't done anything yet and they they are both smoking hot so . . . I'll take them both as my concubines." His mind made up, there was only one thing more for him to do. "Hmmm." Harry began to write. "Last will and Testament of Lucius Malfoy . . ."

IIIIIIIIII

"Mister Notharry," McGonagall hissed. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about those reductos that happened to hit Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Lestrange in the back of the head would you?

"Who me?" Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, "I don't know anything about it. I will say that both of them were looking rather depressed."

"Do you expect me to believe that they both committed suicide?" McGonagall asked with a raised eyebrow, "by reductioing themselves in the backs of the head after tyeing their hands behind their backs and snapping their own wands?"

"Man," Harry's eyes widened in awe. "Those guys must have been really smart to figure out how to do all that."

"And you just happened to start dating both of their betrothed only moments after their unfortunate deaths?" Minerva couldn't believe this kid could keep a straight face.

"They needed comforting," Harry explained. "What kind of person would I be if I turned away two girls who's beloveds had just killed themselves."

"I thought you said you didn't know anything about it," McGonagall smirked. She had him now.

"I didn't," Harry shook his head. "The two girls came to me because they suspected that Malfoy and Lestrange were . . . more interested in the company of each other then they were in together than the company of the lovely Black sisters."

"So you're saying that they committed lover's suicide?" Minerva had to hand it to him, he could really spin a yarn.

"It all makes so much sense," Harry nodded. "I can't believe I never thought of it, wow you're really smart Professor."

AN: I am quite aware of what Dumbledore's password means, you need not leave a review telling me. Thanks go to luinlothana for one of the scenes above.

OMAKE: Lilly finds out that Notharry is Harry who is her son . . .

"Damn you James," Lilly screamed. "I can't believe you did that."

"But Lills," James protested. "I needed to . . ."

"I don't want to hear it." Lilly brought her knee up into Sirius's groin. "You do something like this again." Lilly's knee rose again. "And Sirius will never be able to have children again."

"Not that I'm complaining mind you," James said slowly. "But why are you hitting Sirius?"

"You think I'd abuse my future baby?" Lilly asked in shock. "Take this Sirius."

The below Omake goes with the last story 'Death of a Hero.'

Omake – The Public Reacts

The alley seemed unnaturally silent to Tom as he went out to fetch the morning papers. "What's going on?" He called out to one of the passers by.

"It's Harry Potter," the woman sobbed. "He's . . . he's dead."

"What?" Tom asked in shock. "No . . . it . . . he's just a boy."

"Here." Woman thrust a copy of the Quibbler into his hand. "It's all here."

"It can't be true," Tom said dully. "It just can't."

"The Lovegoods wouldn't lie about something like this," the woman insisted. "Not something like this."

So engrossed was he in the story, Tom didn't remember walking back to the Cauldron or taking his place behind the bar.

"Did you hear?" One of the early morning customers shocked the old man out of his stupor.

"Alone and without a wand," Tom said. "It still took twelve of them to bring him down."

"They say he refused to let them take him alive," one of the other shopkeepers said mournfully. "They say that he's the one that started the fire."

"This can't be," another moaned. "Who will save us now?"

"If one boy can take ten of them then we can take the rest," Tom said firmly. "Remember Harry Potter."

"Remember Harry Potter," several of the people echoed. An oppressive silence hung over the bar for several seconds until another woman spoke.

"Quibbler got a few details wrong," the woman said sadly. "My brother in law works for the Ministry, he said that they found three bodies that belonged to his relives. Five more that belonged to known or suspected death eaters, and twelve more that they couldn't identify. Voldemort must have sent as many as he could find and Harry . . ." the woman sobbed. "How could we have believed . . .we can never." The woman dissolved into tears.

"No we can't," Tom agreed. "We can never make amends for what we allowed ourselves to believe."