Altered Realities by LaileeJane
Summary: Harry has a plan to bring back Sirius and erase the guilt he feels about the Department of Mysteries debacle. It's not a very well thought out plan, but it's still a plan. It comes as no surprise when his plan goes awry. Can he possibly save more than just Sirius? And what does a teenage Severus Snape have to do with his success?
Categories: Teacher Snape > Professor Snape, Snape Equal Status to Harry > Comrades Snape and Harry Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Dumbledore, James, Lily, Remus, Sirius
Snape Flavour: Snape is Angry, Snape is Kind, Snape is Stern
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Time Travel
Takes Place: 6th summer
Warnings: Bullying, Character Death, Violence
Prompts: Time Travel, not so fix -it
Challenges: Time Travel, not so fix -it
Series: None
Chapters: 5 Completed: No Word count: 23553 Read: 4790 Published: 29 Jul 2021 Updated: 30 Nov 2021

1. Chapter 1 by LaileeJane

2. Chapter 2 by LaileeJane

3. Chapter 3 by LaileeJane

4. Chapter 4 by LaileeJane

5. Chapter 5 by LaileeJane

Chapter 1 by LaileeJane

Harry was pretty sure he was in the process of making the biggest mistake of his life, but was too upset to allow his self-preservation instincts to kick into gear. He knew deep down in his gut that when the anger receded and he was thinking clearly, he would want to kick himself for his actions, but at the moment he was letting himself run on impulse, consequences be damned. 


This is how he found himself ducking in and out of alleyways in London, despite the fact that Voldemort was a real and viable threat and he had been given explicit orders not to step foot outside of his aunt and uncle’s home for the summer. 


“It’s too dangerous.”, they - everyone! - had told him, “I know you’re going through a lot, but you need to be patient and wait for us to come get you.” 


He was through waiting and he was out of patience.


Getting to London had been surprisingly easy, and Harry had been astonished that he had made it this far without being accosted by an Order member and returned to Privet Drive. He would have assumed, especially after last summer, that he and his relatives’ house would have been watched carefully, and that any attempts at escape would be thwarted. 


Instead, he had met no resistance as he had slipped out of the house in the early hours of the morning, just before sunrise. 


He hadn’t even planned on leaving, he was going to deal with a summer in isolation, just as he’d dealt with it every other year, but after waking up from a particularly distressing nightmare about Sirius and the veil, he made the rash decision to end his summer of solitude and join his friends at the Burrow. 


The problem with joining his friends at the Burrow was that once he got there, one of two things would happen; he’d either be returned to the Dursleys against his will or he would be allowed to stay at the Weasleys but every single step he made would be monitored to make sure he didn’t do a runner again. 


With this in mind, he had made the decision to first do everything he would want to do before being an Order prisoner once more. First and foremost on his list was to purchase some new clothes, as his clothes were growing uncomfortably tight after several years of use, followed by a visit to his parents’ vault. He knew the vault had more than just money in it, but he had never been given the opportunity to look through it at his leisure. Today, though, he was on no one’s timetable but his own. 


Walking had given Harry the chance to release some of the tension that several weeks of reliving Sirius’s death over and over and over again had caused, and for once he was able to focus on something other than his dark, depressed thoughts and his dreary destiny. 


Being locked away at Privet Drive had done very little for his mental health; the Dursleys were always quick to set him to work, to keep him so busy he had time to focus on anything other than the chores they’d tasked him to complete. This year, though, there had been less demands and more of a weariness of his presence. He supposed that was, in part, due to the Order’s interference. Normally, he wouldn’t complain and would be happy from the reprieve. This wasn’t a normal summer, though, and the lack of focus had only served to make the pain of his loss even harder to endure. 


He hadn’t expected to feel like this. 


He didn’t remember what it was like to lose his parents; for as far back as he could remember he had been an orphan. It had been difficult to process and manage his grief over Cedric’s death, leading to many sleepless nights and intense waves of grief, guilt, anger and fear. But losing Sirius cut him so much deeper in all of those emotions. At times, he feared he would drown in it, swept away into the tide until it consumed every ounce of his body and he existed no more. At times, he wanted to throw himself in front of a train as penance for the death he had caused - though he knew he couldn’t, since apparently the future of the wizarding world was on his shoulders. 


He had expected to be sad, he had expected mood swings and loneliness. He had expected to pick up a quill and parchment and begin to write to his godfather only to realize there was no one left to accept an owl. He had even expected the nightmares and tears that accompanied them. He had expected the ebbing and flowing of anger and guilt, to think about what could have been done differently and to mourn the experiences they wouldn’t be able to share. 


He had not, however, expected it to feel like someone had reached into his chest and pulled out his heart, stomped on it, then tossed it in the rubbish bin. He hadn’t expected how all-consuming the grief could become if he dared let any of it trickle through. He hadn’t expected how hard it would be to keep all of that emotion locked into a tiny box and stored away as deep into his mind as possible so that none of it escaped, for if it began to escape, he would surely die from it. 


When it was quiet, the box rattled and shook, bulging at the seams and threatening to burst forward in a torrent of misery and pain. It was much easier to keep the box quiet and buried when he had something to focus on. Today, he was focusing on not getting caught. 


His idea to run off had seemed brilliant at the start. It wasn’t until he had walked from Surrey to Weybridge that he started to doubt the brilliance of his plan. The sun had now peeked over the horizon and there was no longer the cover of trees to hide him from view as there had been along the A320 and A245. He was sure he had been seen by plenty of people crossing through the residential areas of New Haw and he could only assume they were all muggle, as no one had run out to stop him and no one had tried to capture him and deliver him to their Dark Lord. In fact, no one really seemed to notice him at all, which was fine with him. He had made it, though, and once again disappeared into the foliage of his route until there was none left to protect him. 


All in all, it was a stupid idea. Walking literally all day to get to London, knowing that the closer he got, the more people he’d come across; the more people he came across, the more of a chance he’d be seen by a Death Eater or an Order member. He kept himself company from Waybridge to Hampton simply by berating himself over his poor life choices. 


Which, of course, brought his thoughts back to Sirius. 


The sun shone on his face and neck, leaving him hot, sweaty, and in desperate need of a drink to cool him off. Worst yet, it wasn’t even midday and he knew it would just get worse without the shade of trees and woods to protect him. 


Of course, by now he was nearly halfway there and it would be stupid to turn around and go back to the Dursleys, so he really didn’t have a choice, did he?


He reached in his pocket and pulled out the little bit of muggle money he’d been able to squirrel away over time. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it would be enough to get a fizzy drink and possibly some food to hold him over until he arrived at his destination. 


He saw a sign for the train ahead, and wondered idly how much a train ticket to London would cost and if it was worth the risk. He decided against it, though, and instead ducked into a Tesco. He felt relatively safe here, because it was hard to picture someone like Lucius Malfoy doing something as mundane and muggle as buying bangers and crisps at the supermarket. This led him to wonder whether the Malfoys ate crisps at all, or if they ate fancy dinners for every meal and looked down on those who enjoyed a good chip butty or fish and chips over whatever it was that wealthy people ate. 


His stomach growled, and he counted his money once more before settling on purchasing a fizzy drink and treat, and enjoyed the pleasures of air con for just a bit more before returning to his journey, pockets lighter but stomach fuller. He had loitered in the store long enough to peruse a map to make sure he was on the right track - he was pretty sure he was; he had spent many childhood years daydreaming about running away from the Dursleys and deciding exactly how he would do so.


He walked for a few more hours, starting to feel less liberated and more on edge. He knew it wouldn’t be as easy as just walking away from the Dursleys; if it were that easy, why hadn’t he done this years ago? He had fully expected someone to have swooped in by now, berating him and telling him how stupid he was; or worse, snatching him and delivering him right to Voldemort himself. He had not expected to have made it ¾ of his way to his destination without a single incident, without anyone even taking notice. Had the Dursleys realized he was gone? Probably. Did they report his disappearance to Dumbledore? Not likely, since there were no signs that anyone was looking for him. 


Anxiety blossomed with each passing step as Harry waited for something, anything to happen. As a result, he was suddenly hyper-aware of every passing car and every shout in the distance. His lunch - if it could even be called that as it was more of an assortment of sweets and treats - threatened to make a reappearance as Harry found himself in larger crowds as he made his way closer to his destination, one step at a time. It was harder to listen for anything out of the ordinary when there were more people, noise and action taking place around him and it felt disorienting and overwhelming. 


Since Sirius died, Harry had felt like his brain was malfunctioning - concentrating was harder, processing information was harder, making choices were harder. This confuddled feeling was amplified by exhaustion as the many miles he had trekked throughout the day began to take a toll on his body. 


Without warning, the box inside of his brain that contained all of the hurt he’d experienced burst open wide, and it felt as if Harry were being sucked into a black hole of misery and despair. He braced himself, taking a deep breath and muttering, ‘No, not now.’ as he forced all of the emotion back to the recesses of that box, locking it tight and pushing it away. He had to focus. Why couldn’t he focus?


He licked his chapped lips, awareness to his surroundings heightened again now that the box had been pushed to the recesses of his mind. He was getting close, he could sense it. As a child he had never given much thought to what would happen once he got to London after running away, but now he could feel something guiding him, a feeling deep down in the pit of his stomach that reassured him that he was going to end up right where he needed to be. 


He decided to trust his instincts, they had a history of being right most of the time. He was glad he did, when he started to recognize his surroundings and eventually found himself not far from the Leaky Cauldron. 


Harry realized, at this point, that he hadn’t really given much thought to how he would handle this part of his journey. He would easily be recognized as soon as he walked through the door; he was the chosen one after all, and there was no real way to know if those inside would be friends or foes. Anxiety bloomed again, sending the tingling sensation of ‘watch out’ throughout his entire body from head to toe as he realized that he was already treading very dangerous waters, being out in the open like this. It was not unusual to spot witches and wizards in this area, and he was standing out in the open as if he weren’t supposed to be stashed away in Surrey for safekeeping and pulled out to use in battle when it was time. 


He slipped into an alley, and quickly formulated a plan. It was not a very good plan; that was Hermione’s forte, but it was a plan nevertheless. He would stick to hiding in alleys, always on the move, until it was late, and then he’d simply sneak into the Leaky Cauldron after it was closed, avoiding being spotted by patrons, as they’d all be gone. 


It was a good idea, until Harry realized that 1 - he didn’t know what time the Leaky Cauldron closed, 2 - he didn’t know how he’d get into the Leaky Cauldron, as the ministry was still tracing his wand usage, and 3 - if he waited that late, he’d find himself unable to get into Gringotts because it, too, would be closed and he’d have nowhere to go. 


He’d have to just hope no one recognized him, then. He slipped into a shop, asking for directions to the loo, and then stared at himself in the mirror, trying to decide the best way to conceal his identity. He would have to ditch the glasses, which would be difficult, as everything was incredibly blurry without them. He adjusted his hair so it would completely cover his scar, though he had no idea what else he could do to escape notice. The sunburn that covered his exposed skin was a nice start, he supposed - anything to make him look different would work in his favor at the moment. 


Fearing that this would be the end of his journey, fearing that someone was about to spot him and take action, and fearing that he was going to get into an incredible amount of trouble, he made his way towards the Leaky Cauldron, slipping off his glasses at the last moment. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the blurry view, and entered the doorway behind a couple and their three kids. 


The kids were excitedly talking about all of the shopping they were going to do in Diagon Alley, and were begging for an ice cream cone. Without much thought, he followed the family to the Alley entrance and stepped through behind them - after all, it wasn’t uncommon for there to be a lot of traffic at this entry point. It wasn’t until he was making his way through the Alley that he realized the family had provided him the perfect cover, letting him appear like he was their disinterested teenager being dragged along behind their more hyper children. 


This was definitely a better plan than his original had been. 


Of course, he had to establish his identity once he got to Gringotts, but the goblins were discreet and understood his desire for going unrecognized, as he had expected. He wasn’t disappointed by his vault. He collected some money, making sure he had enough for school materials and some extra to change over to muggle currency to buy some new clothing (as it would be safer to shop in a muggle shop than any store here) and then made his way towards the artifacts and other possessions that had been stored within the chamber. 


He found a few photographs of his parents that he immediately decided were going to leave with him, and he carefully placed them in the muggle-style backpack he had stolen from Dudley. He’d get Hermoine to help him with the spellwork that would allow him to include them in his photo album without damaging the photos. 


There were a lot of other odds and ends, mostly things he didn’t recognize. He knew they had to hold some sort of sentimental value, otherwise they wouldn’t be stored here for safekeeping, but he couldn’t decipher what they were or why they were important. He’d have to come back another day with Ron or Hermione; someone who could help him figure out what all he was looking at. 


He was just about to leave when something shiny caught his eye. He had to get on his hands and knees to reach the small object, which looked like it had been buried underneath all of the other objects he’d been digging through and was just out of reach.He stretched his arm, barely able to grasp a thin gold chain, and tugged on the object. Something about it looked familiar, but he couldn’t see it well enough to figure out why. 


Once he had secured it, he sat back and examined it more closely. A time-turner. Not exactly like the one Hermione had been using in the past; it’s shape was a bit different and there were inscriptions carved into it in a language Harry did not recognize, but it was definitely a time turner. What on earth was a time turner doing in his vault? 


A time turner. 


A strange feeling swelled in his chest, and he gripped the small device tightly. A time turner. He could go back in time and save Sirius. He could erase this entire miserable summer. With just a small change, he could go back and make the right decisions, spare the life of his godfather, and hopefully spend the summer laughing with his father’s childhood best friend, feeling loved and secure and not on the brink of a breakdown. 


The logical part of his brain told him he should talk to Ron and Hermione about this before making plans and decisions. 


The logical part of his brain, in Hermione’s voice, warned him about his hero complex. Dumbledore’s voice warned him about the dangers of messing with time. Ron’s voice warned him about setting off on things alone and how wrong things could go. Even Snape’s voice was there, calling him an idiot. 


On the contrary, he could also clearly picture Sirius’s voice telling him that the risk is what made the adventure worthwhile. 


No, he couldn’t wait and talk to anyone about this. No one could know. They would take it away from him, and the time turner was very clearly his, after all, it was in his vault. He couldn’t let anyone get in the way of saving Sirius. 


He slipped the time turner over his neck, tucking the trinket into his shirt. Later, when he was not in the middle of Gringotts, he was going to make this right. For the first time all summer, everything felt right in his life.


The thing was, he wasn’t entirely sure how to use the time turner. Sure, he had used one back in third year with Hermione, but she was really the expert on that particular device and they weren’t attempting to go back weeks, just far enough back to fix the events of that particular day. Still, it couldn’t be too hard, could it? After all, Dumbledore had entrusted one to a 13 year old; how dangerous could it be? His brain was reminding him that the answer was ‘very dangerous’, but his heart would hear none of it. 


After leaving Gringotts, Harry kept to the shadows and tried to blend in with his surroundings. He wished he had brought his invisibility cloak - a bit of planning before making this trip would have made things a lot easier. He was thoroughly surprised when he made it all the way back into muggle London without being spotted. This really was turning out to be his lucky day. 


No sooner had the thought of having good luck crossed his mind, he spotted a familiar face among the crowd. He slipped into the shadows, hoping to stay out of sight, and watched as the man casually walked towards the Leaky Cauldron. He wasn’t sure where he knew the man from, but it was definitely a wizard. He knew the odds of running into wizards or witches in this area were high, but he had never really considered what that meant for him and how much danger that put him in. 


Harry was no stranger to dangerous situations, but this time it felt different as he was completely alone and no one had even an idea of where he was or that he was potentially making decisions that could get him killed. He recognized the surge of emotion as fear, and he tried to squash it down and bury it so he could keep a level head. 


Or as level as one’s head could be when they had been making impulsive, rash decisions all day without really weighing the possible outcomes. 


He licked his lips, wishing he could just aparate somewhere safe. Somewhere with water and perhaps food. His skin felt tight and warm where the sun had burned his skin and his head was beginning to throb in time with his heartbeat. He wondered if it were the summer heat causing his headache, or if it were the need to take care of his basic needs like food and beverage, or if it was a sign that he was in danger. He put a hand to his forehead, pushing against the dull throb, and isolated the source of the pain. It was not his scar, so he felt fairly confident that it was not Voldemort related. He was definitely overreacting. 


Harry wasn’t sure how long he had stood there, lost in his thoughts and lacking in focus and concentration, but eventually he shook his head and pushed the feelings of discomfort, fatigue, and nervousness aside. He needed to come up with a plan of action before it became too late at night. He still needed to buy some new clothes and he needed to attend to his hunger and thirst. Then, he needed to figure out a way to get to his friends. 


No, not his friends. He touched the chain around his neck lightly, reminding himself that if he went to his friends, they’d take away his chance of rescuing Sirius. He missed Ron and Hermione terribly, and he had never gotten into a situation this big without them by his side as long as he’d known them, but there was no way that he would be able to pull this off if they knew what his plans were. He had to do this alone. 


He stepped back out into the street after looking carefully to make sure he wasn’t going to run smack dab into a Death Eater or an Order member. The coast was clear, as far as he could tell, and he wasted no time in getting as far away from the Leaky Cauldron as possible. 


He quickly stopped at a muggle clothing store and bought a few necessities - they would be even more important now that he was on a quest to save Sirius. His original plan was to arrive at the Burrow and ask someone to return to Privet Drive for his belongings, since he couldn’t very well have lugged a trunk all the way to London from Surrey, but now that his destination had changed, his plans needed to as well. 


Harry, overall, was satisfied with how the day had progressed. There had been a few moments where he felt like he was royally bollocking everything up, but those moments paled in comparison to the hope his broken heart felt at the idea of bringing Sirius back and having his godfather once more, at the idea of not being responsible for yet another death. Sure, he was hungry and tired, and he wasn’t really sure what to do to actually go back and save Sirius, but he was a lot closer to a solution than he had been earlier this morning when he woke up drenched in sweat after yet another dream of Sirius falling through the veil.


He trekked down a side street, cloaked by darkness now that the sun had set and night had fallen. Harry wasn’t entirely sure where he was going; he needed to be somewhere secluded to use the time turner so no one would see him randomly appear. It would be helpful to be near Hogwarts, the Ministry, or Grimmauld Place - those were the three locations he’d be most successful in changing the outcomes of that dreadful night. If he were at Hogwarts, he could prevent himself and his friends from leaving for the Ministry in the first place. If he were at Grimmauld Place, he could keep Sirius from leaving. If he were at the Ministry, he could intercept before the moment of Sirius’s death. 


He gave it some thought as he hurried across a roadway and into another dimly lit alley. He really shouldn’t go to the Ministry - he had no desire to relive any moment of that night again. His friends had been hurt, Sirius had died, the pain from Voldemort ripping through his head had been unparalleled. Going to the Ministry would be the absolute last resort. That left returning to school and returning to headquarters. At Hogwarts, he’d have more resources on hand...the library, his friends, professors, and the familiarity and comfort of his home. At headquarters, he’d have Sirius. Not that he’d really have any of that, anyway, as he wouldn’t be able to reveal himself to anyone. 


This was a lot harder to plan than he’d imagined it would be. 


He found himself moving in the direction of Kings Cross without even realizing it, and he supposed the decision was being made instinctively for him; he was going to return to school and prevent himself and his friends from running to the Ministry. It was likely the best course of action anyway; if he hadn’t left school, Sirius wouldn’t have had to go to the Ministry to rescue him and he’d still be alive. 


He became so absorbed in his planning that he forgot to remain aware of his surroundings, and before he knew it he was back on the main streets and a perfectly suitable target for any passing witch or wizard. As he made his way to the train, he went over the plan in his mind. He was going to find a secluded spot to use the time turner, he was going to board the train and head to Hogsmeade, and on the train he would finalize his plan to stop his group from leaving. There were still a lot of unknowns, but overall he felt like he had a fair shot of success. 


Harry startled slightly as he realized he had drifted back into the main part of town. As soon as this realization hit him, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand straight and a flutter of panic blossomed in his chest. Anyone could be here, watching him, trailing him, ready to destroy his plans for Sirius. He quickly glanced around, not seeing any imminent danger, but he could not shake the feeling that he was being watched and the nagging feeling of worry was enough to send him slipping out of the crowd as soon as possible. 


Sweat made his hands slick as he held his breath, watching from the shadows for anything out of the ordinary. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, maybe 5 minutes or maybe closer to 10, but just as he was working on convincing himself that his imagination was running wild, he spotted a familiar face. 


Snape. 


In London. 


No more than three meters away from him. 


He held his breath, pushing himself as much against the nearby brick wall as he could to conceal himself. He couldn’t be caught by Snape, of all people. Not when he was so close to getting Sirius back. 


Snape stopped walking and looked around suspiciously, and Harry felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. There’s no way Snape could know he was here; the man hadn’t been walking like he was searching for the teenager, nor had Harry done anything that would give his location away. ‘Keep walking’, Harry silently urged, ‘Keep walking, keep walking, keep walking’. 


To his relief, Snape did keep walking. As soon as the coast was clear, Harry took off at a heightened pace to reach the sanctity of the station as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to run into anyone else he may know. He didn’t want to risk Snape returning and carting him back to the Dursley’s by the neck. He just wanted to put his plan into action and see Sirius again. 


It didn’t take long to reach his destination, and as he approached, he started to think of the perfect hiding place to use the magical device sitting against his chest. Bringing it to the toilets would give him privacy, but there was too high of a risk of being seen once the time changed. Finding a dark corner would have the same risks. He could think of no place where he could hide with no chance of anyone else being present months back. 


Perhaps if he used it on the train? If he planned it right, he could time his appearance to align with it being empty just prior to boarding...but he didn’t necessarily want to go back to the start of the school years or revisit the start of school just after the Christmas holidays - that was too far back, he only needed to go back to that day at the Ministry. He bit his lip as his mind raced with possibilities; he could turn back time to board the train, hide on the train, make it to Hogwarts, and then hide in the room of requirement or an abandoned classroom, then move time forward to the night at the Department of Mysteries. Could time turners even move time forward? Maybe he should experiment with the time turner first before making a decision, as this one did not look the same as Hermione’s, and it might possibly work differently. 


His head gave a painful throb, breaking him from his scattered thoughts. He knew he’d have to come up with something, he couldn’t just stand in Kings Cross, hoping no one recognized him. 


Harry looked around at his surroundings once more, really wishing he had a friend here to help him work through the details of this insane plot. Maybe he was making a mistake. He paled rapidly as he spotted a familiar dark head of hair and scowl in the distance. Snape again. Why was he back? Was he looking for Harry? 


Their eyes connected, recognition dawning in the elder’s expression, and just as the professor opened his mouth to call out for the wayward teen, Harry turned and took off running. He didn’t have a specific destination in mind, he just knew he had to get away from Snape, and quickly. People moved out of his way as he barrelled through them, and he could hear murmurs in his wake about delinquent children and how parents needed to keep a better watch on their children - it was a bit too late for that one, really. 


“Stop right there!” came the bellow of his professor, but Harry ignored him completely, finding himself at the entrance to Platform 9 ¾. He disappeared through the barrier, and looked around in a panic for somewhere to hide, knowing he had only moments before Snape would catch up to him. He was going to be in so much trouble. 


The metal of the time turner felt cold against his sweaty chest, and in what could only be described as his most impulsive action of the day, Harry decided it was now or never, and he rapidly spun the dial of the time turner. His only thought was that he could figure out where he was, and then re-evaluate from there once Snape wasn’t on his heels. In a panic, he spun the dial over and over, knowing that Hermione’s time turner sent them back one hour for every rotation. He needed more than an hour, he needed weeks. Snape appeared through the barrier as Harry lost track of the frenzied spinning, and just as the angry potions master was about to lay his hand on Harry’s shoulder to stop him, Harry let the device fall back against his chest and disappeared, leaving the furious spy grasping at only air. 


Harry knew immediately that he had messed up very, very badly.

To be continued...
Chapter 2 by LaileeJane

Harry knew immediately that he had messed up very, very badly.



For a moment, panic left him breathless and dizzy and he could feel the blood rushing through his ears, his heartbeat echoing in a way that made it obvious he was on the verge of blacking out. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the panic away and willing himself to breathe calmly so he could figure out what to do. 


As if there were anything he could do to fix this. 


This was clearly not the same Kings Cross station platform that he had been on moments prior. The time turner had not sent him back a day, a week, or a month. It had clearly sent him back years into the past, and he wasn’t even sure how to find out how many years without sounding like a total nutter. 


The clothing was different. The signage was different. The train was different. The air even smelled different. 


He was relieved to see that there were only a few people on the platform, and no one seemed to notice him appear out of thin air, though he supposed as a wizard it wouldn’t have been too uncommon for someone to aparate to the platform. He moved towards a wall in an attempt to blend in with his surroundings while he figured out what to do next. With a heavy sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair and tried to think, but his mind was racing with so many questions and concerns that he couldn’t even do that properly. 


Harry wasn’t sure how long he stood on the platform, trying to wrap his mind around the dilemma he was facing, but before he knew it the platform was bustling with people. Wizarding families in robes, children with trunks, tears and smiles, hellos and goodbyes. It was obviously September 1. 


He supposed that did solve one problem. He was a teenager, the same size as some of this lot, and he knew where this train was going. If anyone could help with this predicament he had found himself in, it would be Dumbledore. With his mind made up, he slipped onto the train among the sea of returning students. He was going to Hogwarts. 


Harry found an empty compartment and sat in the corner against the window, the panic he felt receding a bit as he leaned his head on the cool glass. Dumbledore would know what to do. He had to. Until then, he just needed to blend in and not mess anything up. He closed his eyes, remembering the start of third year when he and his friends had been in the same compartment with Remus and the professor had been asleep. If he pretended to be asleep, either everyone would leave him alone or they would go about their business quietly and leave him be. If he was lucky, he may overhear something that would give him an idea of what year he had landed himself in. 


“Look, we can sit here.” a girl’s voice spoke from the entryway. 


“There’s someone in there.” a boy’s voice retorted, sounding displeased and annoyed, “Let’s find somewhere else.”


“Oh come on, look, he’s sleeping. Everywhere else is full anyway.”


“And if he wakes up?”


“Then we’ll find somewhere else to go. Don’t be difficult.”


“I’m not being difficult.”


“You are the epitome of difficulty; who are you trying to fool?” the girl laughed, “If you weren’t being difficult, I would think you had been replaced by an imposter.”


“I don’t know why I’m friends with you.” the boy growled, though it was obvious there was no malice in his statement, “Gryffindors, the lot of you are mad.”


“Oh, and like the Slytherins aren’t? I think our whole year has gone mad, if you ask me.” the girl replied airily, “Even some of the Ravenclaws are completely mental.”


The boy didn’t reply, and it took all of Harry’s very limited self-control not to open his eyes to investigate who was in the compartment with him. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin as friends felt foreign to him, especially thinking back on his rivalry with Draco Malfoy. He had yet to meet a Slytherin in his timeline that he found halfway tolerable. He idly wondered which one was deflecting from their house and going against the long-stood rivalry between the lions and snakes and how they had even become friends to begin with. 


“Dear Merlin!” the girl gasped, and Harry found himself nearly opening his eyes to see what had captured her attention. 


“It’s nothing.”


“It’s not nothing! You’re bleeding!”


“It was a parting gift from my dear father.” the boy spoke bitterly, “It’s not too bad. When we get to school, Pomfrey will fix it right up.”


“What happened to all of the potions we brewed for you to take home for the summer? Did he take them?”


“No.” the boy replied, his tone indicating she needed to drop it, “It’s nothing. It’s fine.”


“It’s not!” she replied, her voice raised slightly, “And I find it more than a bit concerning that you find it to be nothing or fine. If our positions were reversed, you’d be livid.”


“If our positions were reversed, whoever hurt you would be dead.”


There was an uncomfortable silence, then the girl whispered sadly, “I just worry about you. How many times did we hang out this summer without me having a clue that you were hurt?”


“You didn’t.” the boy promised, his voice softer and kinder, “I swear it. I didn’t even run out, really, I just couldn’t get enough empty vials to bring back to school this fall, so I cleaned them out to add to my supplies last night. I didn’t think he’d pull something the morning I was leaving for school.”


“When we’re old enough to do magic outside of school, I’m going to turn him into a toad.”


“That would be insulting to toads.” the boy replied dryly.


Harry felt a pang of sympathy for the kid. It sounded like he had a rough home life, and Harry could relate to that. It made him miss Ron and Hermoine, as they were always his rock when he was having a difficult time, and it was clear that this girl was the same to the boy. The compartment fell silent and Harry started to actually doze off, lulled by the movement of the train and the relief that he was no longer on alert and on his feet. 


Just as he had crossed the threshold into unconsciousness, the compartment door slid open and the Trolley Witch could be heard asking, “Anything off the trolley, dears?”


“Two chocolate frogs, please.” the girl replied, “What would you like?”


“I don’t need anything.” the boy mumbled. 


“Don’t be ridiculous. He’ll take two licorice wands, please.” she hesitated, and then asked quietly, “Should we wake the boy up?”


“No, let him sleep. He doesn’t look well.” 


“He looks familiar.”


“He looks like he could be Potter’s cousin or brother or something.” the boy retorted distastefully, “The last thing we need is Potter’s kin in here with us. Let him sleep.”


Harry’s heart fluttered as he processed what he had just heard. He looked like a Potter. That most likely met James Potter. That meant that James must be a student right this very moment. There was a chance he could see his father! 


Just as elation bloomed within him, it was quickly fizzled out by the realization that he had gone back a lot further in time than expected. 20 years too much, in fact. And on top of that, he was not only messing with time, but with his parents’ time. If he stepped one toe out of line, he could be un-born. Bile rose in his throat and he swallowed it back, barely able to keep the panic from taking over. ‘File it away, Harry’ he told himself, trying to push the panic into a box and out of his thoughts, ‘Bury it down, don’t think about it’. Slowly, the panic faded and Harry resumed eavesdropping on the unlikely pair. 


“It’s weird that we haven’t seen him before.” the girl mentioned, “He looks big for a firstie, but I know he doesn’t go to school with us. He’s not even wearing robes.”


“Brilliant deduction.” the boy teased lightly, “Sometimes students transfer over in later years, I guess? He’s definitely not a first year, he looks maybe like a third or fourth year. I guess we’ll find out when we get to school.”


Harry struggled to keep a straight face at the declaration that he looked like a third or fourth year. How insulting. The kid raised a good point, though. What was he going to do when he got to Hogwarts? He wasn’t going to blend in without school clothes. He’d be lucky to even get someone to take him to Dumbledore and not to St. Mungos for observation. There had to be a way to make this work. 


Maybe...


Maybe he could introduce himself to his parents. 


Maybe he could talk to them and explain the situation and see if they would be willing to help him. 


It wouldn’t hurt if he didn’t give them specifics about the future, right? It wouldn’t mess up time if he didn’t change anything, right? But his Dad and his mates were good guys, right - they’d help him out in a bind, right?


Except that he was intimately familiar with the way that the marauders behaved in school, he had been in Snape’s pensieve and saw with his own eyes the way that the marauders tortured the future professor and the conceited, arrogant, disgusting way they’d presented themselves as if they were the royalty of Gryffindor. 


His mother, though...she seemed pretty decent, and if she would be willing to die for him, maybe she’d be willing to nick him a robe so he could talk to Dumbledore without being singled out as not belonging. 


Harry’s head throbbed increasingly painfully, and he wondered what it meant. There was no way Voldemort was close, so it was not his scar, but the longer he sat in this train car, the worse he began to feel. 


“Lucky bloke, he won’t have to take OWLS this year, then.” the girl spoke with a slightly wistful tone. 


“Are you already thinking about your OWLS, Lily? It’s September.”


Harry’s breath caught in his throat. Lily. It couldn’t be, could it?


“How are you not?” Lily replied, her voice raising to a slightly higher octave, “This is such an important year for us, it’s never too soon to start preparing.”


The door opened and another voice spoke, “Lily, it’s time for the prefect meeting. Do you want to walk together?”


“Oh, I nearly forgot! Yes, give me just a moment, Remus.” 


Harry listened while his mother gathered her belongings and moved about the compartment, and struggled to keep his breathing even and his eyes shut, the knowledge that both Remus and Lily were right here in the room with him nearly too much for him to handle. He had known Remus was a prefect, but didn’t know his mother was, as well. He was elated to find out another piece of information about Lily Evans, but was disappointed that she was going to be leaving the compartment and would likely not return for awhile. 


“I’ll be back soon, Sev. Please don’t go looking for trouble.”


“As long as ‘trouble’ stays in his own compartment, it’ll be fine.” retorted the boy bitterly. 


Sev. As in Severus. As in Severus Snape. Snape. Harry was flabbergasted, he couldn’t believe he’d been eavesdropping on his mother and Snape, of all people. He was unable to keep his eyes from popping open, having to see this with his own eyes to believe it.


His eyes trailed to the door, which had just shut. Lily’s red hair disappeared down the hallway, and Harry was suddenly acutely aware that he was alone in the compartment with young Snape and he had just outed himself as awake. 


The two boys stared at each other for a moment, both waiting for the other to say or do something. Severus spoke first, his voice softer and less bitter than the older version typically used, “Are you alright? You don’t look so well.”


“Actually, I don’t feel so great.” Harry replied, and it was the absolute truth. The headache that had been bothering him for the last few hours was now worse than ever, causing him to feel a bit off center and dizzy. He felt like he was about to sick up, and his body felt unnaturally hot. How he longed for water or something to drink, thinking it may help with his dry mouth and throat. 


Severus stood, peering at Harry with a look that was a mixture of concern and curiosity, “I’ll find someone who can help. Don’t move.”


That wasn’t going to be a problem, as Harry was growing increasingly sure that if he moved, he would either faint or vomit, and he didn’t plan on doing either one of those things on the train in a compartment he was sharing with Snape and Lily. He could hardly believe this was really happening. 


The door opened up and Lily walked in, concern for the boy she didn’t even know written across her features. Harry was absolutely certain that she must be the kindest person who he had ever met. Remus followed, and both made their way to the boy, Severus behind them. 


“Hi, I’m Lily and this is Remus.” Lily said gently, squatting so she was eye level with Harry, “Sev tells us you aren’t feeling too good? One of the other prefects is fetching a professor, and you’ll be right as rain soon enough.”


Harry was mesmerized by his mother, and he tried to hold on to every word she said because he knew that as soon as he was catapulted back to current times, these would be one the few memories he held of her voice. It was hard to focus, though, and he was growing increasingly embarrassed by the attention he was getting. He wasn’t supposed to be drawing attention to himself, he was going to mess everything up. 


A hand grazed Harry’s forehead and he startled, relaxing slightly when he realized it was Remus. The prefect frowned, telling Lily, “The kid’s burning up. Do you know any healing charms?”


“Not that I’d feel comfortable practicing on a younger student.” Lily replied. She transfigured a sheet of paper into a cup, and then filled it with water and handed it to Harry, “I’m sorry we can’t do more for you.”


Harry gratefully took the water, relieved to have something to cool him off and combat the dryness of his mouth and throat. He had finished half of the glass when he realized it had been a very bad idea to drink so much when he was feeling sick. He struggled to get up, but both prefects pushed him back down into the seat. 


“Don’t move.” Remus ordered, “Someone’s going to come help you.”


“You look like you’re going to pass out.” Lily mentioned, concern evident in her voice, “Do you want to close your eyes for a few minutes and rest?”


“Move, you idiots.” Severus sighed, pushing Remus out of the way and gently moving Lily aside. He took out his wand and quickly transfigured a basin, thrusting it at Harry seconds before the time traveller began to heave. To Harry’s dismay, as the contents of his stomach escaped, so did tears. How he wished he was anywhere but this moment. How more embarrassing could things get?


“Hey, it’s going to be fine. Don’t cry, kid.” Severus said reassuringly, patting Harry’s shoulder as the boy continued to retch, “You’re really sick, huh? It’ll be over soon.”


It seemed to go on forever, long after Harry had brought up the water and the small amount of food he’d had for lunch hours ago. He was pretty sure that if it were possible to die from embarrassment, he’d be dead by now. At some point, Lily had sat down beside him and was rubbing his back, and Severus had left to see if someone had found a professor yet. 


Remus guarded the door, and Harry wasn’t sure if it was to keep a watch out for a professor or to keep the other students from looking in to see what the commotion was all about. He felt a flood of gratitude for all three of the others who had helped him, knowing that things could have gone drastically different. 


A new voice appeared in the doorway, “What’s going on in here?”.


There was a pause, and another new voice loudly stated, “Ew, is that kid puking?”


“Get out.” Remus said forcefully, “Leave the kid alone. He’s clearly miserable and you lot are just going to make him feel worse.”


“Come on, Mooney, don’t be like that. We aren’t being mean to the kid.” there was a pause, and then the voice laughed, “Is that Evans in there with you? Evans, was Snivellus with you? No wonder the kid’s sick, I feel sick when I have to look at Snivellus’s greasy face, too.”


“Go away.” Lily replied cooly, “We’re busy. Bother someone else.”


Harry trembled slightly, ashamed that this was the first encounter he was going to have with his parents and their friends, and hurt that they were such bullies that they were going to pick on Snape even though he wasn’t even there to defend himself. 


“You’re upsetting him, Black.” Lily said furiously, “Go away before I take points.”


“You wouldn’t!” James gasped from beside his best friend, sounding betrayed, “You wouldn’t take points from your own house.” 


“Watch me.” Lily retorted forcefully, “As a matter of fact--”


Her voice was cut off by the arrival of the professor everyone had been searching for. “Mr. Snape informs me we have an ill student?”


“Yes, Professor Slughorn.” Lily replied, standing up and moving to the opposite side of the compartment, “He was sleeping when we left the station, but woke up feeling sick and he’s been getting sick for the last 5 minutes or so. He feels feverish.”


Horace Slughorn took in the boy’s appearance and frowned deeply, “Do you have any pain anywhere?”


Every instinct Harry possessed was telling him to say no and brush it off as being fine. It’s what he would do if he were in his own time with his own friends and his own professors; actually, in his own timeline he wouldn’t have found himself in a train compartment as sick as he was, he would have retreated somewhere with more privacy before getting to this point. 


Surprising himself, Harry replied, “Everywhere, but mostly my head.”


“Did you fall or hit your head against anything?” Slughorn asked, reaching in his jacket pocket for some potions, “Or has anything else unusual happened?”


Harry wanted to ask him if time traveling back twenty years qualified as unusual, but he lacked the energy to engage in that discussion, so he just shook his head, dry heaving once more and wincing as it caused another stab of pain to shoot through his head. 


“It’s probably nothing serious.” Slughorn said after a few moments of studying the boy, “You’ve been out in the sun, judging by the looks of you. Did you make sure to stay hydrated while outdoors in the heat?”


“I had a fizzy drink...” Harry replied tiredly, “Other than that, I guess I forgot to.”


“That’ll do it, son.” Slughorn said knowingly, reaching into his pockets and pulling out several vials, “Alright, then, I do believe you’re just overheated and dehydrated. Take these and you’ll feel right as rain soon enough. When we get to school, Madam Pomfrey can take a quick look at you just to be sure everything’s fine before the feast.” 


Harry took the potions, grimacing at the taste as he swallowed each one, and then followed them with a hesitant sip of water. When the water stayed down, he visibly relaxed and allowed the professor to banish the basin. 


He looked at the unfamiliar professor, and then at the students who had helped him, “Um, thank you. I’m sorry to be the cause of so much trouble.”


“Don’t be silly, lad - that’s what we’re here for.” Slughorn reassured Harry before patting him on the shoulder and moving towards the door, “If you start to feel poorly again or need anything at all, send someone and I’ll come back.”


An uncomfortable silence filled the compartment. While Lily was still watching Harry with concern, James and Sirius were silently beckoning Remus to join them in the hallway, while the prefect rolled his eyes and tried to shoo them away. Harry, on the other hand, stared intently at the lot of them.


Only in his wildest dreams did he ever think he’d be in a room with his Mum, Dad, Sirius, and Remus. He couldn’t believe that what had started off as such a terrible day had turned into a day where he was being cared for by his mother, while all of those he cared about (and most of those he’d lost) stood about and took the mick from each other. 


He was so absorbed in the moment that he completely missed the fact that Lily was speaking to him until she shook his shoulder lightly. Pulled from introspection, he met her gaze, warmth flooding through him as he realized he truly did have her eyes - though he would argue hers was filled with much more kindness and empathy than his typically held. 


“Are you alright?” Lily asked softly, as if afraid to worsen his headache. “What an awful way to start the term, yeah?”


Harry nodded slightly, embarrassment tinging his cheeks yet again, replying wryly, “Yeah, memorable for all the wrong reasons.”


“What’s your name?”


“Harry. Harry Pot--” he hesitated, his mind racing. He couldn’t very well give the surname Potter, but he hadn’t given much thought to how he’d introduce himself, still in shock that this was even happening. He couldn’t very well tell them right now about time travel and who he actually was, they’d think he was a complete nutter. He gave a slight cough to hide the hesitation, and continued, “Harry Pottingham.” 


Pottingham. Could he have picked a worse name?


“Nice to meet you, Harry. Are you a transfer? You look big for a firstie.” Lily continued, clearly curious about the student she had never seen before. 


Remus had apparently managed to successfully shoo away the rest of the marauders, and he took a seat across from Harry with a kind smile, “Is there anything we can get for you to make you more comfortable? Are you feeling better?”


“I’m fine.” Harry replied, embarrassed by the attention - he’d always hated being in the spotlight, “And yes, I’m new here. I’m a-”, Harry hesitated and thought of what to answer. Technically, he had finished his fifth year already, so he’d be a sixth year student, but what if it took awhile to get the time situation sorted out? He’d want to be in the same year as his parents and hopefully get to spend some time getting to know them and their friends. And, of course, there was the fact that if he had to stay in this time period for awhile, it would be less stressful to take classes he already knew (more or less) the content of. Feeling pleased with his quick logic, he continued, “a fifth year.”


“Oh, brilliant - we are fifth years, too.” Remus responded with a warm smile, “Do you know much about Hogwarts? Where did you go to school before?”


“I know a bit,” Harry replied, feeling more at ease as the conversation progressed, “I was, uh, home educated, I guess you would call it.” 


Harry definitely was not the best at making up lies on the cuff today. 


“I live with my Aunt and Uncle, and they’re unable to oversee my education this year…”


Because they’re twenty years in the future from now. And muggles. And abhorrent. 


“...so here I am.” Harry finished lamely. “Do you guys enjoy it? Hogwarts?”


“It’s my home.” both Remus and Lily said at the same time, causing the two students to look briefly at each other and then look away quickly. 


“You don’t often hear students say that their school feels like their home.” Harry observed, although he felt absolutely the same way about Hogwarts. Just knowing that it was their destination had made this entire surreal experience less terrifying. 


Lily shrugged slightly, “I’m muggleborn, and while my parents are supportive of me and happy that I’m a witch, my sister is pretty awful and makes the summers long and stressful. I can be myself at school without having to worry about anyone’s reaction. And honestly, I really miss magic when I’m away for the holidays.”


“My friends are my family.” Remus said, his eyes lighting up and a grin appearing on his face showing just how much truth was in that statement, “They’re like my brothers and life isn’t the same without them. We’re in the same house, so we get to share a dormitory and spend most of our time together, so when I go home for the summer it can be a bit lonely.”


“I can understand that.” Harry replied, picturing Ron and Hermione and how much better life was when they were by his side. He felt a sudden pang of emotion as he realized that he was completely alone without them, unable to even owl them if he missed them or if he needed to pick Hermione’s brilliant brain for anything. “My mates are aces, I’m not sure how to get by without them.”


“We can introduce you to our mates and hopefully you will find where you belong at our school.” Lily said enthusiastically, “There are so many different personalities and interests, I’m sure you will find someone who is the perfect match for you. What do you like to do for fun? What’s your favorite subject?”


“I like Defence Against the Dark Arts.” Harry replied, “And Quidditch. I played Seeker on my team before coming here.”


“You’d probably like my mate, James, then.” Remus acknowledged, “Those are his favorites, as well. He plays Chaser for our house team.”


“And he never lets anyone forget it.” Lily added, rolling her eyes slightly, “You’ll be able to spot him instantly in any crowd. He’ll be the one chatting up the girls; messing with his hair and regaling everyone with tales of his latest game or prank.”


“He’s not as bad as Lily makes him sound.” Remus promised, although the mirth in his eyes indicated there was some truth to her analysis. 


“He has delusions of grandeur.” Lily scoffed.


“Don’t most 15 year olds?” Harry questioned, thinking back to his previous school year. The majority of his classmates hovered on the line of arrogance, especially in whatever field they seemed to be excelling at. 


“Touche.” Lily replied, “You make a fair point, Pottingham.” 


“Please, call me Harry.” Harry replied, still in dismay that he hadn’t come up with a better surname for himself. 


There was a commotion in the hall, and Remus stood to investigate, “Lily, why don’t you stay with Harry here, in case he starts feeling ill again. I’ll see what’s going on this time.”


“It’s probably James and Sirius.” Lily retorted, rolling her eyes, “I was hoping that with you being made prefect, they would calm down some.”


“If anything, they think it gives them more leeway to break the rules.” Remus replied dryly, “Ever the optimists.” 


Remus disappeared down the hallway, and seconds later, Severus walked in once more. “I thought he’d never leave.”


“You didn’t have to wait for him to leave to come back in, Sev, honestly.” Lily sighed. 


Severus’s eyes rolled to the ceiling, and he said plainly, “I don’t like him.”


“Sev...you don’t like anyone.” Lily giggled, nudging him with her arm, “I suppose I’m lucky you tolerate my presence.” 


“It’s barely tolerable, at that.” Severus replied, deadpan, which caused Lily to laugh even harder. 


Lily settled after a moment, then turned her attention back to Harry, “Harry, this is Severus Snape. Sev, this is Harry Pottingham.”


“Pottingham...I’ve never heard that surname before. Are your parents muggles?”


“My parents are dead.” Harry replied, annoyed that Snape was bringing blood into the conversation, “But I’m not muggleborn, I’m a halfblood.” 


“Don’t look at him as a pureblood elitist.” Lily told Harry, shooting Severus a glare that showed her opinion on the way the conversation was turning, “He’s a halfblood, too.”


“Lily--”


“No, we’re not going to talk about this any further.” Lily said firmly, “I’m so sick of the blood lineage focus and discrimination. You and I have the best potions marks in our year, and neither of us are purebloods. Magic is magic. It’s what you do with it that makes you powerful or influential, it shouldn’t be who you’re born to.”


Severus looked like he wanted to argue, but he apparently suppressed the urge and instead stared moodily at the wall. 


“So your parents are dead?” Severus asked Harry, muttering under his breath something that sounded like ‘lucky you’, which earned him an elbow from his childhood friend. “Was it recent?”


“No, not recent.” 


“How did they die?”


“Sev!” Lily gasped, “You can’t just ask--”


Harry was not offended, though. He’d dealt with adult Snape, and this moody teen was nowhere near as intense as his adult counterpart, “They were murdered by a dark wizard.” 


“Oh.” 


An uncomfortable silence fell over the train car, and Harry looked out the window at the passing scenery, the excitement of talking to those he had only previously known as adults vanishing rapidly. He was tired, his head still hurt quite a bit even with the potions, and as they got closer to school Harry was starting to wonder what he would do when he got there. He couldn’t very well join the Gryffindor table and go with the flow, and he had laid out an intricate web of lies about his background, so immediately coming clean with Lily and begging for help was now out of the question. 


The more he contemplated how he would possibly pull this off, the more his head hurt, so he closed his eyes and tried to stay calm while he brainstormed a solution. 

To be continued...
Chapter 3 by LaileeJane

He was vaguely aware of Lily and Severus whispering quietly, his mother telling off her friend for making the new kid uncomfortable. If only she knew how much adult Snape thrived on making Harry uncomfortable. This was just practice, and not even good practice. He thought back on Snape who had tried to provide comfort to him earlier on the train when he was sick and miserable, and then Snape who had just interrogated him on blood status, and wondered what had happened to spark that change. Earlier Snape had been fairly nice, but suddenly he was irate and cold. Had he encountered the marauders and spoiled his attitude? Had he gone to socialize with his housemates and brought out his repulsive Slytherin side? 


A voice from the door caused the whispering to immediately cease, and the tension in the compartment became so thick that Harry nearly opened his eyes just to determine if he needed to fend himself. 


“Severus, if you wouldn’t mind extracting yourself from the mudblood and joining us, it would be appreciated.”


Harry tensed at the word ‘mudblood’ and resisted the urge to pull out his wand and attack whoever dared called his mother that vile slur. 


“My blood may not be pure, but at least my soul isn’t as dark and dead as a dementor’s.” Lily shot back. Harry couldn’t tell if she was offended or if her feelings were hurt, as her voice remained strong and unwavering. 


There was a rustling sound as Severus stood and the door shut loudly firmly behind him. “Bloody useless Death Eater.” Lily fumed quietly, answering Harry’s silent question of her feelings regarding the matter. He wanted nothing more than to inform her that pretty soon, her friend ‘Sev’ would be another amongst the ranks. Just as the impulse came to him, it evaporated as rapidly. She seemed to actually like Snape, and he wouldn’t want to alienate her from her friend. 


How weird, his mother being friends with Snape. If he hadn’t seen it with his own two eyes, he’d hardly be able to believe it. He can’t imagine anyone would want to spend their time with someone who was always so bitter and judgemental, though he supposed Snape had to have friends somewhere. It seemed like in his own timeline, the staff seemed to get along with him as well as anyone could possibly get along with him. Maybe he just hated students. 


Of course, Snape did call his mother a mudblood at one point, though he could imagine that it hadn’t happened yet, since Lily seemed to still care a great deal about her friend. He couldn’t help but wonder what drove them apart and how their friendship could change so drastically - they seemed to be pretty close, from what he could gather in the time he had observed them. 


His head gave another painful throb, and he remembered he was supposed to be drinking water and rehydrating. It wouldn’t do him any good to ignore that advice; he’d never be able to explain what he was doing there if he wound up in the hospital wing upon arrival. He needed to straighten everything out, and quickly. 


He forced his eyes open, noticing that Lily was now reading a book and didn’t seem to be dwelling on the exchange that had just taken place with Snape’s other friends. He was pretty sure that in the same position, he’d still be fuming. Perhaps he got his temperament from his father, in that regard. 


He held his wand to the cup Lily had transfigured earlier, filling it with water once more and taking a sip to hopefully combat his dry throat and the ache in his head. Harry grimaced slightly as the water did more harm than good to his already on edge system, and he stood shakily, not wanting to run the risk of embarrassing himself any further than he’d already done. 


“Harry, are you alright?” Lily asked with concern, rising and reaching out to press her hand against his forehead, “You’re feeling a bit warm again and you don’t look well.”


“I’m fine.” Harry managed to say in a light tone, hiding the growing discomfort he felt, “I just need to stretch my legs for a bit. I’ll be right back.”


Before Lily could attempt to persuade him to stay, he slipped into the hall and began making his way to the toilets, hoping to find the nearest one empty. He made his way to the end of the corridor, relieved to find that luck was on his side as he ducked into the room and locked the door behind him. He stood at the sink, splashing some cool water on his face and breathing deeply in an attempt to stave off the sickness that threatened to burst free. He didn’t have time for this, nor did he want any additional unnecessary attention brought his way.


His mouth watered and he spit into the sink, gripping it tightly as he focused on breathing in and out slowly, all while silently yelling at his body to pull itself together. He stood there, body braced and eyes shut tightly, for awhile - he wasn’t even sure how long, as he had lost track of time trying to focus solely on not getting sick again. Eventually, he was pretty sure he’d won the battle against his rebelling stomach and was about to declare it a victory when the train came to a stop and the sound of students disembarking met his ears. This was it, then. He’d made it to Hogsmeade station, and now he’d have to find a way to locate Dumbledore, get him alone, and convince him of this incredibly unbelievable adventure he was on. It came as no surprise when he found himself heaving over the toilet a moment later, nerves winning out over self-control. 


Harry rinsed his mouth out, splashed water on his face yet again, and took a long look at himself in the mirror. Everyone had been right, he looked awful. It had been a long day, and he was exhausted and vaguely ill. He wanted nothing more than to find a place to lie down and sleep before revisiting this situation in the morning. Unfortunately, that was not an option. 


The sounds of students exiting the train tapered off, and Harry slipped back into the hall with a bracing deep breath, summoning all of his Gryffindor courage before stepping off the train. It appeared as though he was the only one who remained, and that actually worked out perfectly for him because it gave him the opportunity to rehearse his plans on the trek to the castle. 


He would seek out Dumbledore, introduce himself, produce the time turner for proof, and ask for help. In the scenario that played out in his head, Dumbledore would ask him a few questions to gauge how truthful he was being, perhaps even using veritaserum or legilimency for proof, and then he’d find some trinket on his desk that would send him on his way. There would probably be a lemon drop offered, he may ask about the war and how it turned out or he may demand not to know anything less Harry’s appearance in the 1970s mess it all up. Dumbledore was trustworthy and the two of them got along well enough in his own timeline, so in theory they should in the past as well. Harry was still the same person, just misplaced in the timeline. 


It was ridiculously easy to get into the castle, leaving Harry to wonder if things were the same in his own timeline - if so, what’s to stop Voldemort from waltzing in the front gates to snatch him? He assumed that the protections came later, possibly as a result of the first war, because if it were so easy to come and go from the castle, surely it would be the talk of the Gryffindor common room. 


By the time he made it to the castle, most of the students had already gathered in the Great Hall, and he could see a slightly younger looking Dumbledore standing in front of the crowd. Slipping into the shadows of the school, Harry ascended the staircases, on the familiar path to Dumbledore’s office. He’d wait there for the headmaster to arrive after the feast; hopefully the fact that everyone should be in the dining hall would be enough to keep him from being caught and questioned until Dumbledore arrived.


The meeting did not go as planned. 


“How can I help you?” Dumbledore asked kindly, a twinge of suspicion in his voice, as he looked down on Harry, who had been seated on the floor with his head against his knees, enjoying the cool concrete on his warm body. He had been close to dozing off, and hadn’t even heard the headmaster approach. 


Harry startled, then hastily rose to his feet feeling like a bundle of nervous energy. The headmaster motioned for Harry to follow him, and they ascended the spiral staircase to Dumbledore’s office. 


“Lemon drop?”


“No, thank you, sir.” Harry said nervously, “I, uh, I…”


Dumbledore waited patiently, seemingly deciding that the stammering teen was more amusing than a threat, judging by the twinkle in his eye. 


“Well, the thing is...I, um…”


“Why don’t you just start at the beginning?”


“That’s a little hard to do, actually, because the beginning is the end and I’m actually right in the middle right now, but I’m not sure where to actually begin, and--”


“Let’s start with something easy. What is your name?”


“Harry, sir.” Harry replied, some of the anxiety loosening with a question he actually knew the answer to, “Harry Potter.”


“Potter? I wasn’t aware the Potters had any other living relatives, especially one so young.”


Harry took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he tried to formulate a response that wouldn’t make him sound mental, “Well, technically speaking they don’t yet.”


So much for not sounding mental. 


Harry tried again, taking a steadying breath before confessing, “I’m not actually from this time. I’m from the future.”


He paused, expecting laughter, denial, or some sort of reaction. Instead, the Headmaster tilted his head slightly, as if to urge the boy to continue. 


“James Potter is my father. I was in our family vault, and I found a time turner. Everything is so messed up, I just wanted to go back and fix it, but I didn’t really know what I was doing. Then I saw him and I panicked and wanted to get away, and I guess I spun it too many times - really, I had no idea what I was doing - and then I was on the train platform and it was now and not then and I didn’t know what to do, but I knew that if anyone could help, it would be you, sir.”


Harry didn’t like the way his voice shook nor the way it was painfully obvious how nervous he was about the whole thing. He didn’t like his lack of ability to form a coherent thought in the face of the headmaster. He didn’t like that Dumbledore was still staring pensively at him, as if trying to put together a puzzle. He really didn’t like 1975. Except for his mother, he did like seeing her.


Silence stretched on for several minutes, and with each passing moment, Harry’s anxiety grew exponentially.


“Alright.”


“Alright, sir?”


“Let me see if I’m understanding this correctly…” Dumbledore began, tapping his fingers together, “Something bad happened to you, and you wanted to fix it, and you thought a time turner was your best option?”


“I didn’t say it was a good plan, sir.” Harry retorted, unable to help himself. He tensed, waiting for rebuke, but relaxed a bit once a small smile appeared on the Headmaster’s face. 


“What could have possibly led you to take such a dangerous risk for not only yourself, but everyone else as well? Were you aware of the risk a time turner poses?”


“Yes, sir.” Harry replied meekly, “I, uh, I used one before. You urged me to, actually, to help rescue a free man from being sent to Azkaban.”


“I what?” Dumbledore asked, apparently surprised by his own future self, “Actually, don’t tell me any more about that, I don’t want to cause any lasting damage to the timeline.” 


Harry nodded, then continued, “I lost someone close to me, and it was entirely preventable; if I had only done things differently, he’d still be alive. I needed to go back and fix my mistake; I couldn’t live with myself any longer.”


“If it were so easy to rectify the mistakes of the past, dear boy, I’d wager to say a lot of the darkest part of our histories would be wiped clean.”


Harry nodded, recognizing the chastisement for what it was and acknowledging that he understood. And he did, really - deep down he had known it was a foolish idea. Had it not been, he would have waited until Ron and Hermione were with him to embark on this adventure. Keeping it a secret from them proved that he had known his plan was wrong. 


“I had it all worked out in my head. I just needed to go back in time a few weeks. I was going to fix my mistake and everything would turn out right, and I’d have him back.” Harry paused, “I realize now that it doesn’t work that way, but at the time I wasn’t thinking clearly.” 


Dumbledore nodded solemnly, “Decisions based purely on emotions often lead to obscured views of the outcome.”


“Then when I was trying to figure out how I was going to do it, I was spotted by a professor of mine. I, uh, I wasn’t supposed to leave my relatives’ house because it was too dangerous, but I didn’t listen. It’s, um, a really bad habit of mine.”


“I’m beginning to notice that pattern, my boy.” Dumbledore said kindly, “And is this when you panicked?”


Harry nodded, “The time turner I used before brought us back one hour for every rotation. I realized I’d need to do a lot of rotations to get back months, yeah? But it wasn’t exactly the same, this time turner. I guess it rewound time by days? Years? All I know is that I turned it a bunch of times and I ended up in this year, on this day.”


“And you decided to board the Express and come to school?” Dumbledore questioned, clearly wanted to know more details about the event. 


Harry nodded, “I wasn’t really thinking clearly, I guess. I just knew that everyone who I knew could help me would be here. I mean, even the other adults I know would probably be here as students or maybe just barely adults and definitely wouldn’t be where they would be in my timeline, because they’re, like, young and all. I knew you’d be here, though, and you always have the answer to everything.”


“Harry, my boy, you don’t have to flatter me to get me to help you.” Dumbledore smiled kindly at the frazzled teen, “Although I have to admit that I don’t have a readily available answer for you. I will need to do some research and figure out how to send you back on your way.”


“I’m not trying to flatter you, sir, it’s the truth.” Harry replied earnestly, flushing with embarrassment. He tried to hold a neutral expression at the news that Dumbledore didn’t have an easy answer, but tears welled up in his eyes anyway. He’d have to blame the stress of time travel, because Harry Potter did not cry, especially over something non-life-threatening. “What…” his voice shook, and he cleared his throat before trying again, “What should I do until you figure something out, sir?”


Dumbledore was silent for a moment, then waved his wand towards the door, making a motion that Harry recognized as a messaging system he’d seen Dumbledore of his time use. “The most logical choice would be for you to stay here in the castle and attend classes until we get this sorted out. I’m assuming you were a student here in your time?”


“Yes, sir.”


“What year were you in?”


“5th, sir.” Harry replied, torn between excitement that he’d get to attend classes with his parents and dread that he’d have to attend even more classes even though during his timeline, it was the height of summer break. 


“Very well, then. I will place you with the 5th year students here.”


The door opened, and McGonagall walked in. She startled slightly at the sight of the unknown yet slightly familiar teen, and then turned to the headmaster, “You needed me, Albus?”


“Yes, yes.” Dumbledore replied, not seemingly phased at all by the situation that had unfolded, “Young Mr. Potter here is visiting us from….when did you say, Mr. Potter?”


“1996, sir.” Harry replied, looking down at his shoes. He could picture his own Professor McGonagall staring at him through tightly pursed lips with an expression of bewilderment and exasperation at yet another mess he’d landed himself in. Stealing a glance towards his head of house, he was not at all surprised to see that the 1975 version was looking at him with the same expression. It made him want to laugh, but he bit his lip and tried to hold it back - he didn’t think either professor would be inclined to find the situation funny, and in reality it wasn’t, he was just overtired and stressed out. 


“Yes, 1996. He had a slight time turner mishap, and has found himself in our year. While I help young Mr. Potter return to his intended time period-”


Harry’s eyes snapped up, as it sounded like Dumbledore was hinting that he was going to help Harry return to where he wanted to go and not where he originated from. 


“I would like to offer him room and board; I can’t very well let a teenager live in the streets while I work out a solution, wouldn’t you agree, Minerva?”


“Children using time turners...what a recipe for disaster.” McGonagall said gravely, as if she would never permit such a thing. That, too, made Harry want to laugh as he thought about Hermione being allowed to use one at even a younger age. 


McGonagall seemed to compose herself quickly, and she nodded, “We can’t turn him away, it’s much too dangerous for him to be out on the street in times like these.” She turned to the boy, clarifying, “I’m not sure what the world looks like for you in the future, but right now we are in the midst of a war. You will be safe here, but elsewhere…”


“We’re in a war in my time, too.” Harry replied dully, flashes of Sirius falling through the veil surging through his mind. His heart and stomach clenched in sorrow at the memory, reminding him why it was important to return to 1996, albeit earlier 1996. “A lot of the same players involved, actually.” 


He could practically feel Dumbledore’s desire for more information palpable in the air, but the headmaster had the self-restraint to not probe further, knowing the dangers of doing so. He looked at McGonagall, and then at Dumbledore, “I suppose I should tell you that I talked to some students on the train...I couldn’t tell them my name, of course, because I’m sure that James Potter knows he’s the only living Potter of his age. I introduced myself as Harry Pottingham - I know, what a stupid name, right?”


“And what else did you tell the students you encountered? Try not to leave anything out.” Dumbledore replied encouragingly, “You did well to remember that you couldn’t use your real name.”


“Uh, just that I was home educated by my relatives because my parents were dead - I actually do live with my relatives, so I knew I wouldn’t forget that part, though I couldn’t tell them I was a Hogwarts student because they’d know they’ve never seen me here before. Other than that, nothing that would need to be corroborated; just that I like to play quidditch and my preferred position is seeker and that my favorite class is Defence.” Harry paused, thinking back to the conversations he’d held with Lily, Remus, and Snape on the train, “I’m pretty sure that’s it, though.”


Dumbledore and McGonagall shared a somber glance, and Harry tried to figure out what they were silently communicating with their expression. He realized it probably had to do with knowing he was a Potter, which meant he must be James’s son, and also learning that he lived with relatives, which implied that James was dead. If they thought 35 was a young age to be dead, they’d probably be upset to know that he’d only made it to 21.


“Is he to attend classes?” McGonagall asked, scrutinizing the teenager as if trying to determine solely by looking at him if he knew anything of use. “Where are you planning for him to stay?”


Dumbledore looked over his glasses at his closest colleague with a smile that Harry had come to recognize as the man’s ‘calculating’ expression. A glance at McGonagall’s face made it seem to Harry as though she recognized that expression as well. “Of course he will attend classes, we are a school, after all. I would dare say that the son of James Potter allowed to roam the castle without any sort of timetable would be a recipe for mischief.”


Harry wanted to feel insulted, but considering he’d had one day of freedom and wound up twenty years in the past…the headmaster was probably correct in his assumptions. 


McGonagall actually paled slightly at the idea of the progeny of James having free reign to do whatever came to his mind, and Harry had to question what sort of mischief the marauders got into beyond what he already knew through tales from Remus and Sirius. 


“Yes, you’re absolutely right.” she looked from Harry to Dumbledore with a thoughtful expression, “Are we going to sort him into a house? Shall I procure him supplies and clothing?”


Leave it to McGonagall to be logical and thorough in her approach, it was nice to see that some things didn’t change with time. 


“I have some money.” Harry offered, “I can buy what I need. In my own timeline, I’m a Gryffindor.” 


The last thing he wanted was to wind up being sorted in a different house when he had the opportunity to spend time with his parents and their friends. 


Apparently, Dumbledore was thinking about Harry spending time with his family as well, and he tapped his fingers together thoughtfully as he spoke, “I don’t feel it’s wise to place you in Gryffindor. There is too much risk involved with you and your father in close quarters; if you reveal the future to him, permanent damage to the timeline may be done and we may never get you back where you belong.” 


Harry felt like someone punched him in the gut and he froze, staring at the headmaster. He wanted to beg and plead that he would never give them information that would mess up the timeline, and that he would be careful not to do anything that could end in disaster, but he found it impossible to formulate the words necessary to do so. Blood rushed through his ears and the room faded out for a brief moment as the impact of the situation hit him; he was going to have had the chance to spend time with his parents, but now it would be a lost cause - he’d seen and heard enough to know that the marauders were very prideful of their place in Gryffindor and didn’t seek companionship outside of the common room. 


“Where would I go, then?” Harry asked softly after a few moments of silence. He hated how pathetic his voice sounded, but it did seem to endear McGonagall, who gave him a kind smile as if to reassure him. 


Harry swallowed thickly, hoping that Dumbledore didn’t pull out the sorting hat and place it on his head. The blasted thing had almost sorted him into Slytherin first year, and if Gryffindor was removed as an option, it may try to do so again. Teenage Snape didn’t seem as bad as adult Snape, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be roommates with the man. 


“Oh come on, Albus.” McGonagall sighed, “Don’t you think the lad’s been through enough already? I’m sure he understands the dangers of revealing the future; Mr. Potter, would you be able to keep your identity a secret?”


“Yes, Professor.” Harry replied, hope blossoming in his chest, “I would never want to do something that could possibly result in changing the future. I have great friends in my own timeline that I can’t wait to see again, and I wouldn’t jeopardize that friendship just for a temporary moment here.”


He was surprised to realize that it was true. 


“If you’re certain, Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore said, giving Harry a stern look, “You have to be very cautious with what you say and do, as to not make any changes to the timeline. It may sound easy right now, but I’m sure there will come to be a point where it will be more difficult, and you must rise to the challenge. Do you understand?”


“Yes, sir.” Harry replied enthusiastically. He would really need to buy McGonagall a nice gift once he returned to his normal time - he wasn’t sure he’d ever done enough to show her how much he appreciated her. 


Dumbledore nodded, taking a sheet of parchment from his desk and writing a few things down before handing it to McGonagall, “Can you arrange for Harry to have these items in time for class tomorrow after you escort him to the tower and introduce him to his new classmates?”


“Certainly.” She looked down at Harry and gave him a small, reserved smile, “Come along, Mr. Potter--Mr. Pottingham, let's get you settled in. I can expect you’re exhausted after such an eventful day.”


“Thank you.” Harry told the headmaster gratefully, then allowed himself to be led out of the office by his head of house. To imagine that the previous night he was alone in his room at the Durlseys, mourning Sirius’s death and wishing for an escape and now he was about to meet the teenage version of his family...he simply couldn’t believe it. 

To be continued...
Chapter 4 by LaileeJane

Chapter Four:


The Gryffindor common room was exactly as he remembered it. 


He paid little attention to those who were present as McGonagall marched him through the room; he hadn’t spotted anyone he recognized, though he was paying close attention when they approached the dormitory door, McGonagall clearing her throat as she led Harry into the room. 


“Harry!” Remus greeted kindly, taking a step towards the boy, but falling still as McGonagall spoke. 


“Boys, we have a new transfer student this year. His name is Harry Pottingham, and will be joining you in your fifth year classes. I do hope you will be kind to him, introduce him to the rules and expectations of Gryffindor and the school, and treat him as part of your Gryffindor family.” Her gaze narrowed on Sirius, and she added, “Do not prank, initiate, or engage in any tomfoolery under any other phrase your new roommate - he has had a long day and doesn’t need to be inaugurated into your dormitory under duress.” 


“What?” 


“Don’t worry, Peter, I’m sure that one of your roommates can explain it to you in smaller words.” McGonagall retorted dryly. She put her hand on Harry’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, “Do come to me if you find yourself in need of anything.”


“Thank you, Professor McGonagall.” Harry replied with a genuine smile. 


As McGonagall disappeared, Remus guided Harry to the bed next to the door, “We were wondering why we had an extra bed all of a sudden; it makes complete sense now. This will be your bed, desk, and set of drawers. Mine are next to yours - we all have our own space, but don’t let that fool you thinking there’s much privacy here. If you go through that door over there,” he motioned to a doorway across the room, “you’ll find the toilets. Did she show you around the rest of the tower? Across the way are the girls dorms, but we aren’t allowed in there, they’re enchanted to keep boys out--”


“Which we are hoping to overcome this year, eh James?” Sirius proclaimed loudly, leaping over Remus’s bed and landing in front of Harry, who looked startled by Sirius’s abundance of energy, “Welcome, Harry. My name is Sirius, Sirius Black.” He motioned to the other two boys, “That’s Peter Pettigrew, and this handsome lug--” he took a few steps to reach for James and pull him by the collar to where Harry and Remus stood, “This is James Potter.”


“You’re the kid who was sick on the train.” James commented, realization dawning on his face, “Feeling better now?”


“Loads.” Harry replied, finding that it was true - now that the situation was under some sort of control, he was feeling much more like himself. “Sorry about that.” 


Sirius laughed, sounding much happier and carefree than Harry had ever heard him before, “Don’t be - things like that happen. At least it wasn’t because you lifted a bottle of firewhiskey from your parents and decided to have a party in your train compartment.” Sirius nudged James in the ribs, the grimace on James’s face and the glee on Sirius’s indicating that this was a true story. 


James rolled his eyes, shoving Sirius lightly, “If I recall, that wasn’t my idea, that was the brainchild of a certain houseguest of mine.”


“Actually, I think an idea that terrible could have only been hatched by you two conspiring together.” Remus retorted, his voice stern but his face giving away the fact that he thought it had been just as funny as the other two boys had.


Peter frowned from his bed, “We got in a lot of trouble for that.”


“And who was to blame for that?” Sirius asked, turning around with a raised eyebrow, “As I remember it, we had the situation under control--”


“We did not have the situation under control.” Remus whispered to Harry, his eyes twinkling with laughter. 


“We had the situation under control.” Sirius reiterated firmly, “But someone can’t hold their drink, got paranoid that they’d get caught, and ratted us out to a prefect.”


“I didn’t rat you out--”


“Yeah, Peter, you did.” James jumped in, rolling his eyes, “You can’t ask a prefect a hypothetical question about alcohol while smelling like the inside of a bottle.”


“Sorry.” 


Harry noticed that Peter did have the good sense to look ashamed. Just the sight of the other boy, though, made Harry want to pull out his wand. He had forgotten Pettigrew would be part of the group of boys he wanted to spend time with; it was hard to picture the one who betrayed them as part of their group - every time he had pictured his parents and their friends in school, Pettigrew was missing from the mental images he created. He wished he could make Pettigrew disappear right now, too, but knew he couldn’t. Even if he hadn’t told Dumbledore that he would be careful not to reveal the future, he knew that not only would the others not believe him if he told them Pettigrew was going to sell them out to Voldemort, but if he disclosed something so important to them he could mess up everything.


“It was worth the detentions.” Sirius proclaimed, “So, new kid--”


“Harry.” every other boy in the dorm corrected. 


“Right, yes, Harry. What are you?”


“What am I?” Harry asked, confused. 


Sirius nodded, circling the boy as if trying to decide something, “Yes, what are you? Do you keep your nose in a book? Do you play quidditch? Do you like to have fun? Do you like to chase skirts?”


“I don’t think I’m just one thing.” Harry replied, still a bit confused by the line of questioning and honestly not sure how to answer. He wasn’t just one type of student or one type of person, and neither were these boys. “I mean, I don’t particularly like to read and study, but I do it when I have to. I do like quidditch and to have fun. Girls are nice.”


“Girls are nice.” James laughed, “Did you hear that, Sirius? Girls are nice.” 


“Shut up.” Harry grumbled good naturedly, familiar with this sort of teasing because of the time he’d spent with Fred and George, “You know what I mean.”


“He’s clearly never met Viola Avery.” Sirius grinned, “I can’t think of a single thing about her that’s nice.”


“She’s nice to look at.” Peter offered from his bed, not bothering to look up from the comic book he was reading. 


“Ew, gross, no.” Sirius retorted, throwing Remus’s pillow at Peter, “I wonder about your taste in girls, Peter.”


“You know who is nice to look at?” James asked, seemingly distracted easily by the topic of girls and their looks. 


“Lily Evans.” Remus, Sirius, and Peter said in unison. 


“You’ve only told us a hundred-”


“A million!”


“Sixteen trillion times.”


“Oh shove off.” James muttered, “You have to admit, she’s nice on the eyes. And she’s gotten taller this summer and let her hair grow out some.”


“She’s too smart to be interested in a guy like you.” Remus teased, dodging a Bertie Bott’s bean that James threw at him in retaliation, “I’m pretty sure she thinks you’re a prat, anyway.”


Sirius was quick to pick up where Remus stopped, “Not to mention that she is friendly with Snivellus. Anyone who can stand to be friends with that one isn’t worth the trouble.”


“You’ve got a point there.” James agreed, “Although the fact that she can find good in anybody means she’s genuinely a nice person. You’d have to be, to find something likeable about Snivellus.” 


“He’s not that bad.” Remus argued, but fell silent as his friends gave him an incredulous look in response. 


Sirius grabbed the box of jelly beans from James’s hand and popped one in his mouth, pulling a face and spitting it out just as quickly, “All we’re saying is that the chances of Lily Evans ever thinking of you in a romantic way are nearly zero, mate.”


“You’ll see.” James promised, seemingly rising to the challenge, “Just you wait.”


Sirius popped another Every Flavour Bean in his mouth and then spit it out with a scowl, “Why do I always get the nasty ones?”


Remus reached into the box, taking a random bean and chewing it cautiously, “I got a cherry flavoured one.” 


“Couldn’t be me.” Sirius grumbled, then turned to his friends with an inspired look, “What do you say we go down to the kitchens for a snack.”


“We literally just ate.” Remus replied, clearly accustomed to being the voice of logic within the group.


James took the box of Bertie Botts and dropped them on his bed, “Mate, it’s been at least an hour since the feast and I’m a growing boy. Let’s do it.”


“Your trousers will be the only thing growing if you keep eating like this.” Peter spoke up, clearly trying to make a joke and looking down in embarrassment when the other boys only stared at him, straightfaced. 


“You coming, Harry?” Sirius asked as the four mates migrated to the doorway, “The more, the merrier.”


“Not to mention we need all of the eyes we can get - we need to keep an eye out for the prefects. You know how eager they are to prove themselves at the start of term.” James added, indicating his approval at the invitation. 


“Isn’t Remus a prefect?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. 


The other boys started to laugh, and Harry felt a warmth spread through his body, flowing like blood through his veins. They were just like he’d pictured them. They were brilliant. Never in a million years did he think he’d ever get an opportunity to talk to his father, and here he was being included with him and his mates as if he belonged to their group. 


It was all fun and games until they reached the common room and ran, quite literally, into Lily. 


“Where do you think you’re going?” Lily snapped peevishly, “It’s past curfew.”


“Ah, yes, we’ve found ourselves an eager new prefect, just as expected.” Sirius told his friends knowingly, “I didn’t expect it to happen so soon.”


“Remus! Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall made you a prefect because they trusted your ability to uphold the rules. Do you really think they would want you encouraging - and participating in! - sneaking around the castle?” Lily continued, ignoring Sirius’s commentary. She paused, as if just now realizing they had another member to their group, “And Harry - you shouldn’t be running around the castle when you’ve been ill. You need to go right to bed.”


Harry could see the moment the marauders realized Lily had just given them an out. Surprisingly, it was Remus who spoke up.


“I’m well aware of my responsibility, Lily.” Harry had always pictured Remus to be the Hermione of their parents’ group, and he was pleased to find that the more reserved of the group was a quick thinker and convincing liar like Hermione could be, when needed. 


Remus motioned to Harry, continuing, “As you said, Harry’s been ill. We were just escorting him to the hospital wing to get checked over.” he paused, then continued, “Unless, of course, you’re suggesting we send him alone, even though he’s unwell and new here?”


“Of course not!” 


“With the staircases moving around and the labyrinth of the hallways, he’d probably get hurt, and the blame would lie on us.” Remus added, “We’re looking out for our new roommate.”


The other boys looked at Harry expectantly, and he tried his best to look pathetic and ill. He supposed he must have been believable enough, because Lily moved out of their way, those she questioned, “Does it really take four of you to escort him?”


“And if he collapses on the way? Do you really think Remus here could get Harry all the way to Pomfrey without help?” James scoffed, “No offense, Remus. We’re just thinking of all possible outcomes. We’re mature now.”


“As opposed to two hours ago, when you shoved a pea up Pettigrew’s nose?” Lily asked cynically, “I don’t know what you lot are up to, but I don’t think involving the new kid in your shenanigans will get him off on the right start.”


“We’re just going to the hospital wing, Evans.” Sirius huffed in exasperation, “Honestly, you’re a prefect, not our mother.” 


“Thank Merlin for that.”


“I’m wounded.” Sirius replied, deadpan. 


Moments later, they were out in the hallway, and both James and Sirius were patting Harry on the back and messing with his hair. James nudged Harry with a bright grin, “You were brilliant Harry, you didn’t miss a beat there. You’ll fit right in, in no time.”


Harry grinned, ducking his head so they couldn’t see him flush with embarrassment at the praise. He hadn’t expected them to like him, for some reason, but was relieved that they had taken him under their wing and included them right away. He hadn’t expected that at all; the boys were known to be a tight knit group. For a brief moment, he considered staying and not returning back to his timeline. Ron and Hermione’s faces flashed through his mind, but for once, it didn’t cause a pang of sadness. 



~*~


As it turned out, Harry was a much better fifth year student the second time around. 


During the first week of classes, Harry had done so extraordinarily well in Defence that their Professor Laughlin had allowed him to demonstrate some of the spells they were using. 


Professor Flitwick was so thrilled with his Charms work that he had awarded Gryffindor 40 points over the course of a double lesson, which offset the points Sirius had lost that same morning when he’d coloured the hair of every Slytherin in the great hall a bright pink. 


McGonagall had complimented his Transfiguration work, and he had been the only student who could turn the leaf into a squirrel and back. He was astonished to find that even Potions had gone well; although that could have been due to the fact that he had been paired with Snape. 


“I see you’ve recovered nicely from your illness.” Severus told him on Friday morning during their double lesson, “Without the sunburn and the vomit, you nearly resemble James Potter.”


Harry wasn’t sure how to respond, his palms suddenly sweaty and his heart racing. Severus wasn’t the first to notice a resemblance, but he certainly was one of the people Harry felt were bright enough to figure out his secret. 


“Though, I suppose Potter is reminiscent of vomit...sour, unpleasant, and not something you’d want to be afflicted with.”


Harry glanced over at James, who was ignoring his cauldron and trying to get Lily’s attention with little success. He wanted to be angry at Snape’s remarks about his father, but he found he couldn’t really bring himself to get riled up when he recalled the way James and Sirius had bullied Snape both in the memories he’d watched a few months back and since the school year began in this timeline. In the same situation, he probably would have had nasty things to say about his bully as well. 


“Do you really think I resemble him?” Harry asked, his tone implying that it was a ridiculous comparison in hopes of deflecting it, “I don’t see it.”


Severus shrugged, as if he didn’t care enough to want to finish talking about it, “I try not to spend too much time analysing Potter and his friends. Grab the eel eyes, and I will get the terry beet roots.”


Harry did as he was told, reading the instructions carefully. He certainly didn’t want to mess everything up like he normally did in potions; Snape may be a teenager now, but Harry was certain he knew enough curses and hexes to make his life miserable. 


“Chop the roots into 2 cm uniform pieces.” Severus instructed, “I will need 26 of them.”


“The instructions say they need to be cut into 3 cm squares.” Harry replied, pointing at the book with his finger. He looked at Snape, who didn’t look particularly pleased at being questioned. Some things never change. 


Severus sighed, placing the pestle he had just picked up back down onto the table, “You could use 3 cm squares, but if you use 2 cm pieces and stir in a pattern of 5 times clockwise and 2 counterclockwise, the potion will be completed 14 minutes sooner, giving us the only fully completed and perfect sample in the classroom. Slughorn will wet himself with excitement, and we’ll get points.”


“You’re absolutely brilliant.” Harry replied in awe, his statement truthful. He honestly had no idea potions could be manipulated like this, and he wondered why Snape never told them about these changes when he was actually teaching the class. His mind wandered as he chopped, and he pictured the potions classroom in his timeline. Was that how Malfoy always managed to achieve the highest marks? Did Hermione change the rules, too? He forced himself to concentrate, and decided that Hermione probably followed the text instructions perfectly. 


Severus’s cheeks turned the slightest bit pink at Harry’s praise and he was silent for a few moments before offering, “Lily and I practice potion making in our spare time - in the student lab. If you want to check out some other tips and tricks, you’re more than welcome to join us sometime.”


“Really? Thanks!” Harry replied, genuinely pleased. He couldn’t believe he’d willingly spend more time with Snape, but Lily….after she had spotted him goofing off with James and his friends, she had become much more distant than she had originally been, and he regretted it.


The rest of the period was quiet, the two working together amicably but focused more on their work than socializing. It wasn’t uncomfortable and Harry was surprised to find that working with teen Snape was actually quite pleasant - he made a good partner, better than Hermione, who had a tendency to take over their potions when they worked together so it would be done correctly, and better than Ron, who was just as awful as potions as Harry himself was. Severus made sure Harry did his share of the work, but guided him through things that he was doing incorrectly or didn’t know how to do. Sure, he wasn’t as fun to talk to as his own friends from his own time, but it hadn’t been so bad. He’d even realized that Snape’s quick, snarky wit was a bit amusing when it wasn’t directed at him or his friends. 


Once the class period ended, Severus asked Harry to wait, and crossed the room to speak with Lily, who looked back at Harry and then nodded. They finished putting away Lily’s supplies, then met up with Harry as he finished doing the same. 


“Sev says you’d like to brew with us.” Lily commented to Harry, her eyes bright in a way that spoke volumes to Harry about her interest and excitement in potion making. “We meet in the student lab over the weekend and sometimes during free periods, has anyone shown you where that is?”


Harry hadn’t even known there was a student lab.


He shook his head, and allowed Lily and Severus to lead the way down the hall and into a room that Harry had never noticed before. He wondered if this no longer existed in his time, or if he had just walked by it hundreds of times without paying attention.


“In this cupboard you will find supplies that anyone can use. Most of them come from the herbology classes or students who enjoy gathering materials.” Lily explained, leading Harry to the far corner of the room to show him. 


Sev added, “And some come from students who have had detention with Slughorn - those students that he particularly likes. If I were teaching this class, I’d make my students disembowel remains to harvest ingredients. Nothing deters bad behavior like guts and eyeballs.”


Harry snorted, having been on the receiving end of such a detention from Snape in the past, and added, “Or scrubbing out crusty cauldrons. That would probably be a good deterrent.”


He was well familiar with that type of detention, as well. 


“I’d just make students write lines.” Lily contributed, leaning against a table with a thoughtful expression, “It’s boring and tedious - I’d much rather be doing something active like cleaning or separating ingredients than sitting still and writing the same thing over and over again.”


Severus raised an eyebrow, asking, “And when a student decides they’re just going to use a replicating spell to do their lines for them?”


“I’d tell them not to use magic.” Lily retorted, “I’d know if they were cheating.”


“And if they could cast nonverbal or wandless spells, then how would you know?”


Lily paused, thinking it through. Harry assumed she must not have had a sufficient response, because she instead declared, “I’d be such an amazing teacher that no one would want to misbehave in my class, therefore there’d be no reason to give out detentions.” 


“They’d still misbehave.” Harry and Severus said in unison, both pausing before Severus continued, “You can’t put a bunch of kids with different personalities, temperaments and interests in one room and expect them to behave all of the time. Even if you have a fun and engaging class, there will still be little miscreants who want to spoil everything for everyone else.”


“Maybe I’d be different.” Lily said airily, and Harry grinned - he recognized that desire not to admit defeat to his mates. 


Severus was silent for a moment, then conceded, “If anyone could do it, it would be you.”


Lily smiled, clearly pleased, then resumed her tour of the lab. 


“The rules are pretty simple,” Severus told Harry once Lily had shown him where everything was kept, “We can’t brew anything illegal or dangerous. The ‘dangerous’ part is a bit flexible, since what one person considers dangerous is not what another might, but generally speaking, anything poisonous or explosive is off limits. We have to clean up after ourselves and Professor Slughorn prefers we work with a partner or group rather than alone, just in case of an emergency, especially if we are experimenting with different methodologies.”


“Mostly we just practice and tweak what we worked on in class, and sometimes we brew some healing potions for the hospital wing.” Lily told Harry, “Madam Pomfrey appreciates it and it gives us extra practice. With OWLs this year, any and all practice is useful.”


“This is brilliant.” Harry said appreciatively, “Thank you for showing me and inviting me to come with you guys.” This was one piece of information he’d need to file away for when he returned back to his time. Never again would they need to brew in the abandoned girls’ bathroom. 


“Not many people take my advice when I tell them we can achieve better results by modifying the recipe for a potion - you not only listened, but you asked questions. You probably aren’t as ignorant and insufferable as the typical Gryffindor boy.” Severus replied, as if that explained his reasoning for including Harry. Harry thought over the words for a moment, realizing that maybe it did, in a very subtle Slytherin way.


Silence fell over the room, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. After a few minutes Lily, who had been flipping through a book someone had left on a countertop, stretched and announced, “We’re going to the lake. Harry, are you coming along?”


Harry looked expectantly at Severus, trying to gauge the boy’s reaction to see if he would be welcome there. Severus rolled his eyes, then followed Lily to the doorway. “You’d better hurry up, Pottingham - she has a habit of changing her mind without warning, so we might end up anywhere.” 


Seeing the invitation for what it is, Harry hurried to tag along.





To be continued...
Chapter 5 by LaileeJane

Chapter Five:



The air was warm, a slight breeze rustling the trees and the sun shining brilliantly on the teens as they spent their afternoon by the lake. Lily had taken off her shoes and robes and stood in the shallow water, kicking her feet and attempting to splash the boys, who stood close enough to the water’s edge to converse with her but not close enough to get wet. 


“Come on--” Lily urged, her voice drifting into the range of a slight whine, “The water feels amazing and we won’t have long before it’s too chilly to enjoy the sunshine like this.”


“The last time I stood at the edge of a lake like this, my best mate pulled me in and I was soaked.” Harry replied, a grin and a pang of sadness at the thought of Ron. Hermione had been so irate with the boys after they’d gotten her soaked too and two pages of notes she’d been carefully committing to memory were destroyed. He hadn’t failed to notice she started charming her notes more thoroughly after that incident. Ron had felt that it was the price she paid for wasting a gorgeous afternoon revising, and she had made it clear that she felt his laissez faire attitude towards education was going to leave him alone and penniless in the future. 


“Better to be pulled in by friends than pushed in by idiots.” Severus grumbled, clearly having his own memories of the water. 


Lily turned to Harry, filling in the gaps in the statement that Severus clearly wasn’t going to do, “Sev is James and Sirius’s favorite target. Those bullying gits are awful to him. At the end of term last year, they pushed Sev into the lake and I think Sirius would have drowned him if Professor McGonagall hadn’t walked by when she did.”


“I got them back though, didn’t I?” Severus smirked, “I convinced a house elf to put a potion in their juice, a mixture of a truth serum and a babbling beverage. They spilled all of their secrets for hours - they were so mortified that they skived class for the afternoon in fear they’d say something that would get them expelled.”


Harry couldn’t help but think how useful a potion like that would be for Malfoy at times. 


As the two friends entertained Harry with stories of their previous years both at and out of school, Harry soaked in every detail. He wished he had a pensieve so he could remember every moment of this time he had with his mother, so he could view it at his leisure and get lost in the sound of her voice, the softness of her touch, and the joy in her laugh. 


Harry had enjoyed spending time with James, Remus, and Sirius, but spending time with Lily and Severus felt more like spending time with his own friends, in his own time. They were both so real; they weren’t showing off to whoever was around, they weren’t constantly taking the mick from each other, and he didn’t feel like he had to impress them by acting or reacting a certain way. He supposed he probably didn’t have to impress the Gryffindor boys, either, but he was a lot more worried about fitting in and being accepted by them, whereas Lily and Severus felt natural to him. 


“Do you want to walk along the lake and pick flowers?” Lily asked the boys, picking up a rock she’d found and skipping it across the water. 


Harry shrugged, and Severus nodded, “I’ve been looking for frog eggs to add to my potions kit. I’ll look for those while you find flowers.”


The trio walked along the edge of the lake, and eventually Severus and Harry both pulled off their shoes and rolled up their trousers to dig for eggs while Lily trailed beside them, holding a water lily that she had found and was planning to enchant to do...something, Harry wasn’t really sure what she had been talking about when she had described it to him. 


They had been out for several hours, and Severus was teaching Harry how to properly charm the eggs they’d found to preserve them for as long as possible. Lily was a few feet away, crouched down in the shallow water to collect a few rocks that looked, in her words, ‘unique and worthwhile’. 


The afternoon had been quiet and pleasant, so Harry should have known it was going to go downhill sooner or later. 


“Oi, Snivellus! If you spend too much time in the water, you’ll poison the giant squid with all of that grease.”


The three whipped around quickly, and Severus visibly tensed when he spotted three of his four Gryffindor tormentors approaching, James their ringleader with his disheveled shirt and tie giving off the vibe that he wanted people to ask what he’d been doing to get so disorderly.


“Sod off, Potter.” Snape hissed, looking at the group of Gryffindor boys with the utmost loathing. 


“Or maybe it’s time for your annual bath?” James continued, reaching the water’s edge, “You certainly look like you haven’t seen water since your last dip in the lake, Snape.”


“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Snape growled, hand going for his wand, “The way you follow me around school...one would think you missed me over the summer.”


“Ha! You wish, Snivellus!” Sirius barked, moving to stand beside James and pointing his wand at Severus, “Pottingham, you really should be careful who you choose to associate with at this school. Some students are nasty Death Eater scumbags.”


Severus clenched his fist, Lily tensed, and Harry’s heart pounded rapidly as he tried to figure out how to diffuse the situation. He didn’t want to have to take sides, especially since he felt like Severus was in the right here yet he had to sleep in the same dorm room as the marauders. The sneer on Sirius’s face and the strut when James walked reminded Harry so much of Malfoy, though, the two boys were nothing like the men of Harry’s memories. Unable to ignore the Malfoy vibes the two boys were projecting, Harry glanced at Lily and Severus, responding cooly, “He’s no more of a Death Eater than you or I.” Yet. 


“Oh lookie, Snivellus has gotten himself a new defender.” Sirius taunted, “Can’t fight your own battles, Snape?”


Severus shot a look at both Harry and Lily that clearly told them to shut up and let him handle things. He glared at Sirius, responding darkly, “You’ll find that I’m a better fighter than you, Black. I don’t have to hide behind my name and ride on the coattails of my lineage. Not only am I smarter than you, I’m also quicker than you, I don’t need my friends to stand up for me or to stand behind me, I could take you out all on my own. Both of you.” 


“You wish, Snivellus.” Sirius responded angrily, taking a step closer to the Slytherin, “You snakes are all the same - vile and disrespectful. You talk about my lineage, but at least I have an influential and powerful one. You’re no one. You’re a miserable nobody who suckers in those gullible enough to believe you’re not utterly useless to be your friends. You hate us because you wish you were one of us, but you know you never will be because you’re a miserable, useless waste of skin and air.”


Sirius turned his attention to Harry and Lily, continuing, “Pottingham, I can forgive you because you’re new and you don’t know anything yet, but Evans - you can do better than this pathetic bellend.”


Harry felt like someone had punched him in the gut - it had been one thing to view the bullying in Snape’s memories, but another to witness it firsthand. He was gobsmacked that Sirius and James were ganging up on Snape like this, especially when Snape had literally done nothing to them to initiate it. Fury flooded his veins and he snapped, forgetting who he was even speaking to in the height of anger, “I don’t know anything yet? You can forgive me? Who do you think you are? You don’t know anything about me - I’d wager to say you don’t know anything about him, either. I have never been so embarrassed to be associated with someone as I am at this moment, looking at you.”


Harry had no idea what happened next, but in the blink of an eye there were hexes flying through the air. He narrowly missed a stinging jinx, but ducked out of the way in time and sent one back towards his father and godfather, too angry to think about how insane it was that he was fighting them in defence of Snape, of all people. 


Water splashed around them as the opposing sides fought and Harry felt more alive than he’d felt in months. There really was nothing more invigorating than a good duel. 


It didn’t take long before Harry and Severus were out of the water and onto dry land. He dodged yet another stinging hex - was that all the Gryffindor boys knew how to cast? - and sent back an ice hex, much more powerful than he’d intended. James and Sirius were frozen momentarily, which gave Harry and Severus just enough time to slide on their shoes and take cover in the nearby trees. By the time the two Gryffindors had worked through the counter to the ice hex, Lily had rushed off with Peter to find a professor to intervene. 


“Impedimenta!”


“Incendio!”


“Rictusempra!”


“Petrificus Totalus!”


“Protego!”


“Expelliarmus!”


“Depulso!”


“Confrigo!”


“Flippendo!”


“Relasho!”


“Incarcerous!”


“Stupefy!”


“Langlock!”


“Immobulous!”


“Oscausi!”


“Tenticlafors!”


“Lacarnum Inflamari!”


“Levicorpus!”


“Diffendo!”


“Inflatus!”


“Pullus!”


“Fernunculus!”


“Boys! Enough!” 


The sharp and angry voice of Professor McGonagall stopped everyone in their tracks. James and Sirius lowered their wands, and both leaned forward with their hands on their knees, trying to catch their breath. They were in complete disarray, their clothing torn in several places and a variety of obvious ailments - Sirius had a tentacle in place of his left arm, for instance. Harry didn’t spot the boils he’d sent their way, and wondered if they’d deflected them or if they were just in a place not visible due to clothing. 


Harry and Severus were also breathing heavily, sweat dripping down Severus’s pale face and Harry’s breaths coming in short gasps as he struggled to calm down and control himself. Severus’s robes, face and hair were splotched with dirt from the small explosion that took place when a blasting curse had landed right beside him in the dirt. All in all, Harry was pretty sure that he and Severus had won the duel - they’d been hit by the fewest spells thanks to great shields and a natural inclination towards duelling that Harry supposed they shared. 


Out of the four, Harry was the only one who had the common sense to look contrite and apologetic to the professor, whereas the other three were quick to jump to excuses to defend themselves and their actions. 


“Professor - they attacked us out of nowhere. You should take 100 points from Slytherin!”


“Mr. Black, even if they did attack without provocation, if I took 100 points from Slytherin on behalf of Mr. Snape, I’d also have to take 100 points from Gryffindor from Mr. Pottingham, as well as points from you and Mr. Potter for retaliation.” McGonagall responded sternly, though she appeared like the punishment was not completely off the table. 


Harry had seen McGonagall angry before, but never quite this angry. He supposed he didn’t usually find himself in the middle of a conflict quite on this scale during his time, though. 


“How could we not retaliate? Look what they’ve done to us! Pottingham shouldn’t even be allowed in Gryffindor, he’s betrayed us!” James complained. 


“Retaliate?” Harry replied hotly, itching to whip his wand out but knowing it would not be the wisest choice, “We were minding our own business when you lot came along and hexed us!”


“We wouldn’t have had to use our wands if you wouldn’t have been so disrespectful--”


“Respect is something that’s earned, not freely given.” Harry responded to Sirius peevishly. He wasn’t sure what had come over him, he couldn’t believe he had gotten into a row with Sirius and James, of all people, and he didn’t really understand why he still felt so angry towards them. He hadn’t been this angry with another student since the quidditch game where he’d resorted to muggle-style fighting with Malfoy, and even then, his temper had cooled in the face of consequences from his Head of House.


While Sirius still looked angry, James looked betrayed by what had happened. Ignoring McGonagall’s attempts to silence the group and restore order, he turned his attention to Harry, “I thought we were friends. How could you team up with the enemy like that?”


“I don’t have any enemies here.” Harry replied, glancing at Sirius who muttered something about him having enemies now before turning his attention back to James, “Honestly, I was just hanging out with Severus and Lily, just like I’ve hung out with you lot. You came to us and started picking a fight, you can’t just go around bullying people because you’re bored!”


McGonagall cleared her throat, and Harry looked down contritely, “Sorry, Professor.” 


“Regardless of Mr. Pottingham’s proclivity to continue running his mouth when he ought to be silent, he is correct. It is foolish and immature to resort to tormenting those you disagree with just because you have nothing better to do.” McGonagall said sternly, looking at James and Sirius like she had a pretty good idea of what had happened, “Perhaps all four of you have too much free time on your hands that could be better spent accomplishing something productive.”


Harry could sense where this was going and groaned. 


“Therefore,” the professor continued, “I do believe two weeks of detention are in order. Mr. Snape, you will serve your detention with Professor Slughorn, I will ask him to contact you with details once he has had a chance to verify his schedule. Mr. Potter and Mr. Black, I do believe we had an arrangement at the end of last term about what would happen if I found you two involved in trouble at the start of a new term?”


“No, Professor,” Sirius replied, his voice raising nearly an octave as he tried to backpedal out of this situation, “We made it through the first week without getting into any trouble! You can’t!”


“I do believe that the first week of school still counts as ‘start of term’, Mr. Black.” McGonagall replied cooly, “And I hardly count pranking the Slytherin house staying out of trouble.” 


“It was just a laugh! Please, Professor-”


“No. You will learn that your actions have consequences. I think two weeks of scrubbing bedpans and assisting in the hospital wing will do both of you some good.” 


Both James and Sirius looked incredibly disappointed, and Harry almost felt bad for them - as far as detentions went, that was a rather unpleasant one. 


“And you, Mr. Pottingham,” McGonagall continued, “You will serve detention with me. If I find you in any other situations like these, you will report straight to the Headmaster and he will not be as forgiving as I am.”


While Harry nodded resignedly, the other two Gryffindors snorted at the idea of Dumbledore being used as a threat. 


McGonagall shook her head as she surveyed the four students once more, “Mr. Potter, escort Mr. Black to the hospital wing to get his….tentacle….sorted out. Mr. Snape, I do believe that Miss Evans will be waiting for you in the student lab, if she’s capable of following directions better than her housemates. Mr. Pottingham, please come with me to my office.”


Harry had thought that this had been a really strange day overall; a productive potions class, being friendly with Snape, fighting with James and Sirius - but what happened next was the most shocking of all. 


“Professor McGonagall? It wasn’t Harry’s fault.” Severus said quietly, “It was mine. Harry was defending me. Please go easy on him - he was just trying to help and then things got out of hand.”


Both Harry and McGonagall stared at the reserved boy as if he’d grown another head. Harry couldn’t believe his ears - Severus Snape, standing up for him and trying to get him OUT of trouble? 


“Be that as it may, Mr. Snape,” McGonagall replied, though her voice had softened quite a bit, “Mr. Pottingham is aware that fighting is against the rules and must live with the consequences of his decisions. I will take into account during his punishment, however, that even though he was behaving recklessly and thoughtlessly, he had noble intentions.” 


With that said, the conversation was over and she motioned for the boys to follow her back to the castle. 


“Noble intentions...How Gryffindor of you.” Severus told Harry with a sly grin as they walked behind the professor. 


Harry shrugged good-naturedly, knowing that the words were phrased at an insult, but also as a joke, “We’ll see how Gryffindor I am when I have to sleep in the same room with those blokes tonight - they may revoke my Gryffindor card.”


He was only half-joking. 


Severus seemed to catch the hint of worry that Harry felt, and he gave the boy a friendly nudge, “You’d be better off without it, mate.”


Harry wasn’t sure why, as never once in his life had he had the slightest desire to be friendly with Snape, but his spirits lifted slightly at Severus’s words. He had little time to analyze what that meant, however, as they entered the castle and McGonagall dismissed Severus. 


She rounded on Harry, lips tightly pursed together. She looked as if she wanted to say something, or perhaps throttle him in front of everyone present, but instead she maintained her stare for a moment, then turned and marched towards the staircase, “Follow me.”


The walk to her office was silent and the initial anger he’d when fighting had completely melted away. The warmth he’d felt at his new friendship with the much less intimidating teenage version of Snape faded away as well, leaving Harry feeling guilty and apprehensive. He wasn’t actually a student here, and he didn’t have the same relationship with McGonagall here as he did in his timeline, even though she was so similar to his Head of House that he forgot at times that it wasn’t the same professor who was accustomed to dealing with the adventures he’d had.


He also recognized that, despite how much he loathed being treated as the famous Harry Potter, he was definitely treated favorably by professors. Without that protection from his fame, he had a very real concern that they’d chuck him out and leave him to fend off the Voldemort of this time. 


Harry stopped walking for a moment, realization dawning on him so strongly that he was left feeling slightly dizzy and disoriented. Thoughts swirled rapidly around his head as different flashes of conversations and memories combined to come up with a primitive but potentially amazing plan. What if he left the school and found Voldemort now? Neither can live while the other one survives...if he got rid of the noseless bastard now, he could not only save Sirius in his timeline, but he could save his parents and prevent Sirius from ever having gone to Azkaban. He could have the opportunity to have grown up with his parents, spared from the miserable Dursleys, he could save Cedric--


His racing thoughts were interrupted by McGonagall, who had also stopped walking and was eyeing the boy with a mixture of worry and resignation.


“You look just like your father when he’s on the brink of breaking every school rule in existence, and some who haven’t even been created yet.” McGonagall accused wearily, “Merlin help us.”


“Sorry.” Harry said distractedly, barely able to pay attention as his thoughts wandered to what could happen if he grabbed ahold of his fate and handled the situation now. They’d all be safe - he’d be able to enjoy his last two years of school with Ron and Hermione and spend the summers at home with his Mum and Dad, Sirius and Remus, enjoying the break from learning instead of acting like the Dursley’s unwanted guest. He made an effort to keep up with McGonagall as they approached her office, and once they arrived he sat down on a chair opposite her desk and tried to focus. 


“Mr. Potter, Harry,” McGonagall began, then paused as if she were trying to organize her thoughts before speaking, “I know this experience has been a huge upheaval for you and I’m trying really hard to keep that in mind…”


“You’re going to kick me out, are you?” Harry asked, wondering if McGonagall was leading up to tell him that he was too much trouble and not worth their hospitality. After all, he couldn’t really blame her - he’d just broken several major school rules and attacked his father and godfather. And while he did think leaving to hunt down Voldemort was a good idea, he still needed to plan first and he wouldn’t be able to do that as easily with no roof over his head. 


McGonagall reached into her desk and pulled out a tin of biscuits, taking one for herself and holding the tin for Harry to take one as well. She waited until he had selected one, then responded, “No, I’m not. I just think that you might need someone to talk to, and I wanted to offer to be that person for you. Don’t get me wrong, Harry, I’m still very upset with that spectacle I walked into by the lake this afternoon, but I’d like to believe that there was some sort of motivation other than just defending Mr. Snape that had you so angry and ready to whip your wand out towards other students.” 


She paused, as if carefully selecting her words, and then resumed speaking, “I understand why Black, Snape and Potter--James were quick to have each other at wand-point, as this situation has been escalating since they arrived at school as first years. However, I fail to see why you were drawn in so easily.”


“I don’t like bullies.” Harry replied, “And I don’t like being told who I can and can’t talk to. I think it’s ridiculous that they sought him out to target him when he literally wasn’t doing anything to them. I tried to tell them to back off, but they refused and I lost my temper. I swear we didn’t draw our wands first, we were just trying to defend ourselves.”


“Does your dislike of bullies come from personal experience? Were you bullied in school in your own timeline?”


“No.” Harry replied, giving the idea some consideration after he’d already answered, “I mean, I was when I was younger. And I have a fellow student who I really, really do not get along with - but we antagonize each other. Sometimes he does things that are undeserved, and sometimes I actually do deserve it, but I don’t feel picked on or ostracized by him, I just don’t like him.” 


Harry pictured Malfoy’s smug face, annoyance flaring slightly when he realized that James sort of reminded him of Malfoy at times. Disgusting. He tried to push that comparison as far out of his mind as possible, not wanting to associate the two with each other. 


“If you’re worried I’m going to start going around duelling all over school, I promise I won’t.” Harry told his Head of House, meeting her eye to show he was being honest, “I don’t know what came over me.”


McGonagall appraised him for a moment and Harry felt quite uncomfortable under her analytical gaze. “Do you think you’ll be able to get along with James and Sirius for the duration of your time here? Would you prefer if we placed you with a different group?”


As angry as he’d been with his family, the idea of being separated from them sent a pang of grief through Harry’s heart, and was quick to reassure her, “No, no, we’ll be fine. We were getting along before today, I’ll smooth things over with them and it’ll be fine. Please, don’t change anything.”


“If you’re certain…”


“I am.” Harry reiterated, looking down at his lap, “Please, don’t make me leave Gryffindor. In my own time, I can’t remember my Dad and I only had Sirius for a few years. I need this--this time, these memories.”


“And your mother?”


“She died....she died to protect me. The only memory I have of her is her murder.” Harry whispered, tears building in his eyes though he pushed them back down before they had a chance to fully develop. He sniffed slightly, then looked up at McGonagall, “I didn’t mean to come to this year, but now that I’m here, I need to spend as much time with my parents as I can, while I can.” 


“I understand, Mr. Potter.” McGonagall said kindly, reaching over to place a hand on his shoulder, “I daresay you’ll have your work cut out for you now, trying to get James and Sirius to see past the incident today, but they’ll probably come around. It’s not as if they haven’t gotten into many a row before.”


“Thank you, Ma’am.” 


“I must say...you are a pretty talented duelist. For your first detention, tomorrow at 7:00, I think we will partake in extra studies; I’ll enlist the help from your Defence teacher to oversee the experience.” 


Harry’s mouth fell open in shock. His detention for duelling was to get more practice in duelling? He knew he’d have to keep this detention a secret from the other Gryffindors; if they learned that Harry was getting extra Defence lessons while they cleaned bedpans, they’d never forgive him for fighting with them. 



Dinner came quickly after the chaotic afternoon, and Harry entered the Great Hall nearly too nervous to eat. What were James and Sirius going to say to him? Would they even talk to him at all? Would they get in yet another fight? He was relieved to see they hadn’t arrived yet and wasted no time serving himself a small portion of chicken and potatoes, hoping to eat what he could manage quickly and then retreat to the library until curfew. He wasn’t one to run away and hide from his problems, but he seemed to be having difficulty gathering up his typical courage. 


The first bite tasted like ash and he took a swig of his drink, pushing his plate away. He couldn’t eat, not when he was unsure of what to expect from his roommates. He didn’t know any of them well enough as adults to anticipate their next move, much less as their teenage and less mature selves.


He glanced at the head table, feeling like he was being watched, but no one was looking in his direction. He scanned the other tables, his eyes finally coming to rest on Severus, who was watching him intently. He tried to decipher the meaning behind the intense gaze, but couldn’t quite connect the dots. When he turned back to his plate, Harry gasped in surprise as he realized he was no longer seated alone. 


“Survived the battle, then?” Lily asked, nudging his plate closer to him, “Made it out with all of your limbs intact?”


“You told McGonagall on us; we have detention for two weeks.” Harry complained, “Not to mention I’m pretty sure James and Sirius are going to hex my bed and belongings to oblivion and back.” 


Lily laughed, serving herself a plate of food and digging in, “Better detention for two weeks than Azkaban - I don’t know if you’ve realized this yet, but none of those three know when to back down and give up, one of you guys would have been seriously injured or worse if we hadn’t gotten someone to intervene.”


“Better McGonagall than Snape, I guess.” Harry muttered, then froze when he realized his slip. There was no Snape to catch them at this point in time; Snape in this time was a student and not an authority figure. He had to do something about his slip up. 


Lily looked at him, clearly confused by his comment, and he stared back at her, mind racing as he tried to formulate an excuse for saying what he’d said. Ultimately, he decided that this would actually be an appropriate time to run away from his problems, and he pushed his plate away with what he hoped was a pathetic and miserable expression. “Gah, I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. I must have hit my head during the fight, it’s been sore ever since.” 


For emphasis, he rubbed the back of his head with a frown, “I think I’m just going to go up to bed and hope tomorrow is better.”


“You haven’t even eaten yet, Harry.” Lily replied, her voice dripping with concern in a way that made Harry feel absolutely terrible about lying to her. “Finish up your meal and then we can have Madam Pomfrey look over you, if you were hurt during that horrific display of testosterone you need to have a professional give you a once over.” 


“I’m not really hungry, sorry Lily.” Harry replied, rising to his feet, “I can make it to the hospital wing on my own, no sense in both of us missing a meal.” 


“Are you sure?” Lily asked, also rising, “I don’t mind.”


Harry gave her a reassuring smile, but waved off her concern, “Yes, it’s fine - enjoy your meal, I’ll see you later in the common room.”


“Well if you’re absolutely certain…” Lily responded, though he could tell it was taking all of her willpower not to insist she join him. 


Harry flashed her a smile before walking quickly from the Great Hall. He had no intention of going near the hospital wing, as he didn’t really have a headache, but wasted no time in making his way up to the common room. If he was lucky, he’d make it there before the other Gryffindors attacked his possessions in retaliation for their fight. 




To be continued...


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