DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything and I have a mortal fear of lawyers, so please don't sue.


October 1974.

The calendar on the wall really did say that.

Harry was sure it had read 1996 a minute ago. Either he had been seeing things, or nobody had been in this room for a very long time - although, all things told, magical calendars ought to change on their own.

Deciding that he would ask Dumbledore about it later, he pushed open the door and went out. He had ducked into a secret passage to avoid Mrs. Norris. He had no idea where he was, but he was pretty sure he could find a way back to his dormitory.

He took the Marauders' Map out of his pocket.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Lines of ink appeared on the parchment. He was alone in the corridor. No - not alone. Two black dots were approaching him. They were labeled 'Sirius Black' and 'James Potter'.

Harry shook his head. He was hallucinating. It was the shock of his godfather's death; he was hallucinating. First he thought that a calendar read 1996 when it hadn't been changed for 22 years, now he imagined dead people walking through the corridors of Hogwarts.

But, no, he was not hallucinating. He erased the map and let it draw itself again, but the two dots were still there.

Harry's first panicked thought was that there were Death Eaters in Hogwarts. When he had calmed down enough to realize that the Marauders Map could see through Polyjuice Potion, he decided that the best thing to do was to consult Professor Dumbledore immediately. According to the Map, he was still in his office.

He hurried through the hallways as quickly as he could. Whatever had happened could not be good - Harry did not imagine for a moment that Sirius Black and James Potter had returned without a price.

He stopped at the carved gargoyle.

"Fizzing Whizbee."

Nothing happened.

Puzzled, Harry repeated the password.

"Fizzing Whizbee."

The gargoyle stayed a statue.

Apparently Dumbledore had changed the password sometime that day. There was only one thing for it.

"Sherbet lemon," he began. "Chocolate frog. Droobles Best-Blowing bubblegum. Sugar Quill."

At the last, the gargoyle sprang to life and aside. Not wanting to waste any more time, Harry practically ran up the moving staircase and hammered on Dumbledore's door.

"Come in," the familiar voice said.

Harry opened the door.

"Professor - I saw Sirius! And Dad - they were in the fourth floor corridor near the west tower."

Dumbledore looked at him, apparently waiting for more.

"Er. do you know why they're here?" Harry asked uncertainly. "Shouldn't they be dead?"

Dumbledore frowned.

"Now, really, if this is a joke it's in very bad taste. Your father, as you know, is in the best of health. As for Sirius, I would worry more if he were not wandering around Hogwarts after hours."

"But - Professor - when did Sirius come back? If he's alive why hasn't he even spoken to me for months?"

"I saw the two of you planning a prank just this morning, James, so -"

"Wait a moment," Harry cut in. "I'm not James. I'm Harry, Professor."

Dumbledore peered at him through his half-moon spectacles.

"True - you are not James. Your eyes... I seem to know them, but not James... the resemblance is uncanny. Well, if you are not James, then who are you?"

Harry wondered if Dumbledore had gone mad as well.

"I'm Harry, Professor. Harry Potter. Sixth-year, Gryffindor."

Dumbledore smiled suddenly.

"Ah, I understand. Tell me, Harry, which year is this?"

"Er... it's 1996, Professor. Just under a month until Hallowe'en. Don't you remember?"

Dumbledore's smile broadened.

"I remember quite well, Harry, but I'm afraid you don't understand. You see, you think it's 1996 - and I daresay in your time it is 1996 - but you are no longer in your own time."

"What?" Harry gasped. "But - Professor - it can't be - it simply can't - I don't even have a Time-Turner, and I don't know how..."

"Nevertheless, Harry, you are in 1974. Just under a month, as you pointed out, until Hallowe'en. The problem, now, is how we will get you back to your own time."

He surveyed Harry consideringly.

"I assume you are related to James? Am I right? I assume, also, that you are his son? Very well then, it is certainly not surprising that you should be out of bed in the middle of the night. You said you were in Gryffindor... you can join the Gryffindor sixth-years tomorrow. What are your subjects?"

"Potions," Harry said with a grimace, "Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms."

"Excellent! You'll fit in with the class nicely. Here is your timetable -" he pulled a sheet of paper from midair "- and as for your books and things... there's no time to go to Diagon Alley so I shall have a set in your dormitory tomorrow morning. You cannot call yourself Harry Potter, so it must be something else. Harry... Thomson? Do you like that?"

"That's fine, Professor," Harry said.

"Do not worry, Harry, I shall find a way to send you back to your own time - if I can manage, then you shall reenter your time at the exact instant at which you left it. It will save my future self from worrying too much. Oh, and one thing, Harry..."

Professor Dumbledore looked up at him, and the blue eyes were cold and firm.

"I trust that you are telling me the truth. I do not believe you are one of Voldemort's servants... and I hope, for your sake, that you are not - in which case forgive me for suggesting it."

Well, what do you think? Please review and let me know. Should Harry see the infamous prank involving Severus Snape and the Whomping Willow? How soon should he get back to his own time?