Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations I put them all in. Everything else belongs to somebody else and that's just the way it's gotta be. Thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!
Clutching his head James Sirius Potter sat up, staring all around him as he tried to get his bearings. The last thing he remembered was standing on the Quidditch pitch, celebrating his team's utter decimation of the Chudley Cannons. They'd been standing in front of the cheering crowd and then one of the Chasers from the other team had thrown something at him. He'd caught it and then-he couldn't remember anything else but darkness after that. What had the git thrown at him?
Where ever he was it was dark, James thought as he staggered to his feet, still holding onto his aching head. He was on a Quidditch pitch, his team's if he wasn't mistaken, but there was no crowds, no team mates, nobody it seemed but him. Eyes scanning the grounds around him James spotted his Phoenix Firebolt lying close to him, and quickly bent down to retrieve his beloved broom, looking it over for damage in the dim light of the full moon.
After making sure that it was all right James looked down at himself and noted that he was still wearing his Quidditch robes, which definitely needed a cleaning now. Looking around James saw no sign of his Beater's Club, and cursed its possible loss. He'd just broken it in. Getting more pissed off by the second James couldn't figure out what the hell was going on, especially since everyone had apparently just left him here on the pitch to die of exposure. His cousin was his captain for Merlin's sake! Victoire better have some explanation when he got a hold of her or else…
Retrieving his wand from his robes James used it to light his way as he made his way slowly out off the pitch and quickly found the doors necessary to access the now deserted hallways, using his wand to unlock the doors that kept him from getting into his team's dressing rooms. Slipping inside James turned on the lights and then frowned fiercely, looking around him with shock. This was not his team's dressing room. Walking over to the locker that should have been his James took in the plaque that declared it to be belonging to Henry Hefner. Henry Hefner? He hadn't played for the Tornados in decades; he'd played when James's grandfather and namesake would have still been at Hogwarts. What the hell was going on here?
A thought occurring to him, one that had the color draining from his face, James really looked around him. He'd seen pictures of their stadium at different times in its history and this…this was what it had been depicted as looking like in the seventies, when Hefner would have played for the team.
His broom sliding out of his hand James's didn't even hear the thud as it hit the wooden boards beneath his feet.
Twenty minutes later James sat on a park bench outside the dark stadium, dressed for sneaking about in black trousers and the black muscle shirt he always wore under his team robes. His uniform and broom were now stuffed in the deceptively small and ordinary pouch he wore around his neck, alongside the chain Teddy had given him one birthday for luck. Fiddling with the charm at the end of the golden chain James stared down at his lap, his eyes reading for the fifth time the date printed on the section of Daily Prophet he'd retrieve from a garbage can minutes before.
"May 12th, 1978. How the hell can it be 1978?! My father isn't even born for another two years if it's 1978!!"
But no matter how many times James looked at it he couldn't quell the certainty in his gut that said that not only was this right, but it wasn't a dream from being hit too many times with a bludger. And what the hell was he supposed to do if this was really all real? Where was he supposed to go, how was he supposed to get home again? He couldn't bloody well kill that friggin Chaser if he wasn't even born yet!
He needed his cousin Rosie to tell him what to think ASAP. Unfortunately, if he wasn't born she sure as hell wasn't either. Mind trying to think of someone who could help him James suddenly leapt to his feet as he realized exactly who he needed to see.
If it really was 1978, then the smartest, most brilliant wizard the world had ever known was still alive and perfectly capable of guiding James down the right path, just as he had done for James's father when he'd lived.
The four Marauders walked down the trail towards Hogsmeade on paws and in Prong's case hooves. Between Prongs and Padfoot was Moony, already transformed and being herded for a late night walk in the beautiful May weather.
Moony and Padfoot smelled him first, the scent of a human male walking towards them from the direction of Hogsmeade. Alerting the others to the situation they all quickly moved into action, herding Moony into some nearby bushes with the stag and dog ready at any moment to tackle the werewolf if he attempted to bolt in the direction of the lone figure making his way towards them.
The man looked a little older than them, likely early twenties wearing a sleeveless shirt which was completely unsuitable for the still cool night air. He was tall; about six foot three with dark red hair that reminded Prongs' of his girlfriend Lily's hair. The physic of the man suggested someone used to hard physical labour and Lily would have called him seriously ripped.
'Who was too stupid to dress for the weather.' James Potter thought with a snicker, keeping still so that his antlers would blend in with the tree behind him.
Snickering in agreement the other three regarded the other man with derision and suspicion.
"Bloody hell." The man was muttered, pausing near them to reach into a leather pouch he had looped around his neck. The four watched in interest as he drew out a long bottle of some sort from a pouch that wasn't much bigger than an apple. A wizard then, they thought to themselves.
The man was now close enough for them to make out a face, which reminded them enough of Prongs' to have them all blinking in surprise.
'A relative?' they asked James, who couldn't recall anyone mentioning a distant cousin who looked like him.
Intrigued, they decided Padfoot would go in for a closer look. Separating himself from the others Sirius slinked out of the shadows and lopped off after the man, who heard him coming and turned around to greet the large, black dog.
Getting down on one knee the man held out a hand to pet, Sirius allowing this since it would provide him with the opportunity to get a good, up close look. As his head was stroked Sirius took in the warm brown eyes of the man, the kindness there as he smiled down at him. They had been right in their age estimate and Sirius wondered who this man could be, out on the grounds so late and all alone.
"Well aren't you a big brute." James commented as he stroked the large dog's glossy black head. "What are you doing way out here, with no one around? Do you belong to someone at Hogsmeade then? Or perhaps one of the-it's a full moon." The significance of that sinking in James looked down at the dog with new eyes. It couldn't be, could it? A large black dog, one that looked a bit like a Grim, out and about at night on the full moon, so close to Hogwarts. A Hogwarts that should currently be the residence of the infamous Marauders. Coincidences were hooey, right?
Eyes scanning the nearby bushes and trees, James was sure he could just make out the form of a stag blending into the trees nearby, but too tall to hide completely in such small vegetation.
By, Merlin, he'd interrupted the Marauders on one of their full moon strolls. The dog who looked up at him with such intelligent dark eyes was Sirius Black, his father's godfather and the man who'd provided James with his middle name. In the trees not more than ten meters from him was James Potter the first, his namesake and the grandfather he'd never known. His god brother Teddy's father would be there too, a werewolf kept only in check by his faithful, mischief making friends. And there would be one more, hiding out of sight, his mind as weak and evil as his form.
Hand just itching to reach for his wand and blow the rat to smithereens, James forced himself to get to his feet. No, he could not alter history; he could not change what had been done. All four of the animal/men near him were going to die before their time, his grandfather, than Sirius, than Peter and Remus. There was nothing he could do to change that without risking changing everything, including the fall of Voldemort. That could not be undone for any reason.
Reaching out James gave the dog one more quick pat on the head before motioning towards the hidden Marauders. "You better get back to them." He said softly, only loud enough for Sirius to hear him. "They need you as much as you need them."
And so Sirius watched the unknown man continue walking up towards Hogwarts, knowing in every fibre of his being that this was not going to be the last time they met. That and that the man walking away from him was far more than what he seemed.
Since he'd memorized his father's Marauder's Map during his time at Hogwarts James got into the castle without a lot of trouble. It occurred to him that when he found Dumbledore it might be prudent of him to mention some ways to tighten security a little, especially since it had proved even easier to get in than it had been in his time.
Sneaking through the castle James noted the time, wondering if eleven twenty was too late to be waking up someone of Dumbledore's age up. He did want the man in a good mood after all. Pausing, James looked over in the direction of some portraits thoughtfully.
"Maybe I could ask one of them or a ghost to see if he's awake." James muttered under his breath.
"If who is awake?"
Nearly jumping out of his skin James whirled around to look into a face he'd never seen outside of pictures and the painting he'd seen when been sent to see his own headmaster. The long white beard, half moon glasses, brilliant blue eyes, and that all seeing aura. "Dumbledore."
"Yes, or do you mean that it was I you were seeking to find?"
Wiping his suddenly nervous hand on the side of his trousers James took a step forward, holding his hand out to Dumbledore. That way the older wizard would know that he wasn't armed and meant no harm. "My name…is Jamie Prewett, Sir." Jamie was a pet name his mother and Gran called him sometimes, and Prewett at least started with P and he'd remember it since it was his Gran's maiden name.
"I think not, but that could just me being a cynical so and so. And what can I do for you, young Prewett?"
"Sir, I'm in a great deal of trouble…and you were the only one I could think of who could perhaps suggest a way to remedy it. You're right, the name I just gave you isn't really mine, the last name isn't anyway, but the reason I can't tell you who I really am is because…because I am not from this time, Professor. I am from later on in time and someone threw something at me that…well when I caught it I was brought back here to this time. I can't tell you much more than that other than to say that my father was someone close to you and who admired and spoke of you with the greatest of affection and trust. I'm a Gryffindor, Sir…or I will be."
Removing the pouch from his neck James sorted through it until he came across what he was looking for. Holding it out James watched the older man take the Gryffindor Prefect badge from him with an air of calm completely at odds with the situation. "The entrance to our common room is behind the portrait of the Fat Lady, and …and you saved Hagrid from being thrown out of Hogwarts after he was accused of opening the Chamber of Secrets, which was actually done by Tom Riddle." That at least was okay to reveal.
After a long, drawn out minute of silent contemplation, Dumbledore handed the badge back to him. "What is it you want from me, young man?"
"A place to stay for starters, Sir. If they send someone to come for me this is one of the first places they'd look. I have money, thankfully, enough that if you don't want me here I can find someplace else to stay. But I don't know much about this time and I don't know how to get home. Do you?"
"Do you have the thing this person threw at you?"
"No, Sir. I looked but couldn't find it."
"Hmmm, interesting." Tapping a finger against the side of his weathered cheek, Dumbledore appeared to have come to a decision. "This will take some research and…further questioning. For now I think it best to show you to a room and see that you stay there till morning, no offence intended."
"None taken. Students here are the future grandparents of friends of mine. I'd be disappointed in you if you just let me in not knowing whether I was a wolf in sheep's clothing or not."
"And just how old are you, exactly?" Dumbledore inquired as he led James down the hallway.
"I'm twenty one, Sir."
"And how were your grades here when you when graduated from Hogwarts?"
"I was fifth in my year."
"Excellent. Follow me then, Mr. Prewett."
"Hello, Gorgeous!" Whistling under her breath Sandy Lepange elbowed her friend Lily Evans in the side from her seat beside Lily at the Gryffindor table. "Sexy hot man coming this way."
Sandy wasn't the only one who noticed. Most every female head was already turning to watch the unknown man walk up the aisle between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw like he owned the place. He was definitely yummy as hell, the long sleeve, black shirt he wore under his black robes hugged every muscle of his well developed chest in truly drool worthy ways. The light from the windows made his red wine coloured hair shimmer and it seemed to the girls to glow. That he walked with the grace and swagger of a man who had complete control over himself and his body also figured into the many hearts he set a flutter.
"It's him." James hissed to Sirius from Lily's other side as he draped an arm over his girlfriend's shoulder possessively. They were sitting at the head of the table as Head Boy and Girl and James was more than ready to hex the new arrival if he so much as looked in Lily's direction.
"I can see that." Eyes narrowing from his place across from James Sirius watched the man carefully, trying to figure out just what it was about him that struck him as so odd. Then he realized what it was. The man was deliberately not looking at anyone sitting at the Gryffindor table. His gaze and attention was directed in front of him, but he was casually glancing around at the OTHER houses. But not theirs. Hmmm…interesting.
"What do you think he's doing here?" Peter asked nervously, fiddling with his napkin as he tried not to stare at the man everyone else was watching.
Watching the man walk past them and up onto the raised platform everyone watched in wrapt attention as the man took a seat at the end of the table on the right, in a chair that must have been brought out for him especially. The teachers were watching his curiously as well.
When all the students had arrived and were seated Dumbledore got to his feet and tapped on the side of his goblet with a spoon to get their attention. Once all eyes were on him instead of their new arrival, Dumbledore began the speech he'd concocted the night before.
"As you all have no doubt noticed, we have a new face with us today. I would like to introduce you all to Jamie Prewett, who will be staying with us for an as yet unset period of time. He is the son of a dear friend of mine and I have asked him to stay with us for a while in the hopes that he might impart to you some of the knowledge he has gained in his twenty one years of life. For those of you who are studying for OWLs or NEWTs, Jamie will be available to you to help you with your studying and spell casting practice as you prepare for these tests. He will be given Professor Cuttle's old office and there will be notices upon the door indicating his office hours and when you can book an appointment with him to go over any problems you may have. You can, of course, always approach your teachers as well, Jamie has simply volunteered to help you all out this way as he is here visiting me anyway. Is there anything you'd like to say, Jamie?"
Since this was the first he had heard about any of this a slow shake of his head was the best James could come up with. So that was why Dumbledore had quizzed him about his classes and grades the night before. The sly old bastard.
"Well then, everyone dig in and let us begin a new day!"
Note: In every chapter after this James Potter II will be referred to and will think under the name Jamie in order to differentiate him from his grandfather. Thanks and hope you'll continue reading!