I wrote this a while back in some challenge we had on Kamerreon's yahoo!group. I found it when I was moving school files off of my computer and onto my external hard drive, so I thought I would touch it up a bit and post it. Who knows, I may just expand it! If enough people enjoy give me feedback indicating I should do so!

The fact that I ought to be writing my last paper at this very moment, however, has absolutely NOTHING to do with me posting this now. Promise. Pinky swear and all that!

Given his notoriously fickle luck and his propensity for disaster, Harry should have realized that something like this was going to happen. Months of intricate planning and cramming more Arithmancy than one sane person should ever know into his head, and somehow he had still managed to screw it all up.

Only Harry would break countless Wizarding laws in order to change the past only to break his only means of returning to the present.

Oh well, nothing doing now. He would have to figure something out later.

He picked himself up off the ground and took a precursory look around. Hermione had warned him it wouldn't be exact, so he could only hope that he hadn't overshot by too much. A little in either direction wouldn't matter, really – if it was only a little.

He sucked in a harsh breath as he took in his surroundings. It was definitely – definitely – not just a little!

Sometimes Harry felt as if the Wizarding world was trapped in a completely different era while the Muggle world continually advanced around it. That was why he loved Godric's Hollow. Made up of an odd mixture of modern amenities and charming antiquities, Godric's Hollow was quickly becoming the place where all of the trendsetters in the Wizarding World wanted to live.

Harry had never been particularly good at History of Magic nor had he ever been particularly observant. Still, he doubted that twenty years would have been enough time to change the village in such a drastic way.

So, he was pretty sure that he'd completely screwed up and was now stuck sometime in the late 1800's, if his estimation was correct.

His estimations weren't always correct, but he was pretty certain this one was. The thing that cinched it, though, really, was the horse-drawn buggy that nearly ran him over. Would have run him over if someone hadn't pulled him back just in time. Even someone as unobservant as he was couldn't ignore something like that.

"Thanks," Harry said as he turned around to meet his savior. His eyes widened as he took in the figure before him.

He was young, maybe even younger than Harry, with blonde hair that fell to his shoulders in a messy array of curls. There was no mistaking his identity. Staring at Harry with a look of unadulterated fascination was the most notorious dark wizard the world had ever known, Gellert Grindelwald, and beside him, wearing an equally fascinated look, was a very young Albus Dumbledore.

Oh yeah, he had definitely screwed up. Big time.