Miss Moony would like to say that she doesn't own Harry Potter and that she wrote this without help from Miss Wormtail, Miss Padfoot or Miss Prongs.
------- I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good -------
It was midnight as 16 year old Harry Potter ran through the hallways of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His destination was the Headmaster's office.
Professor Dumbledore had asked if he could come at half past eleven (probably to talk about how his mage training sessions with Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna and Ginny were going on), and Harry was already late.
Finally, he skidded to a halt outside the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office.
"Chocolate Frogs," he said hurriedly to the gargoyle, and it moved aside, revealing a moving spiral staircase.
"Sorry I'm late, Professor," Harry said as he entered the circular room, "I lost track of the time."
"That's quite alright, Harry, just take a seat." Dumbledore replied, "Would you like a lemon drop?"
"No thank you, Sir," Harry answered.
Dumbledore took a lemon drop and popped it into his mouth, then put the packet away.
"Now," he started, "you may be wondering why I called you here."
He waited for Harry to nod.
"After the - unfortunate - events of last term," he continued, "I noticed that you'd been a little out of spirits, and I've thought of a way to cheer you up a little.
"I seem to recall that in the year of 1977, this school had a very peculiar arrangement for the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher - or perhaps I should say teachers, because there were six. The eldest of them were 16, and the youngest, 15. There names were Harry Patterson, Luna Cox, Ron West, Hermione Grant, Neville James, and Ginny West."
"What does this have to do with me?" Harry asked, "even if the teachers did have the same names as me and my friends?"
"They looked rather like you as well, Harry," Dumbledore continued, "they were war mages, and there was no record in the ministry of such people ever having existed."
"I came to the conclusion about a week after they left, and due to the slip ups that they made, that they were time travellers."
Harry's eyes widened in realisation of what he was trying to say.
"They were us?" he asked in disbelief.
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling, and immediately confirmed Harry's suspicions.
"So, what's going to happen?" Harry asked.
"I will send you and your friends back in time 19 years, to teach in the Marauders' seventh and final year."
"What will you tell people?" Harry asked.
"I will tell my colleagues the truth, and I will tell the students that the six of you are on a practical Defence Against the Dark Arts field trip with Remus. He has already agreed to cover for you."
"And how will we get back?"
"I will give Miss Granger instructions to get you all back safely, as she is the one who is most likely to remember. But, perhaps now you should go to bed. I will meet you here at midday tomorrow, and the six of you have the morning off lessons. And don't pack your clothes, Harry, I will provide them."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, beaming.
"You're quite welcome, Harry," was the answer, before Harry turned and left.