Professional Pranksters I: The Hogwarts Four

Harry steadied himself, feeling slightly dizzy. As the swirling lights cleared, he saw he was in the room he had just left - but everyone was gone: Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, Professor McGonagall, everyone. He shook his head as if trying to rid his ears of water. Had it worked?

A bell rang near him, making him start, signalling the end of classes. He sighed once he realised what it was. He could hear students beginning to make their way up the corridor outside.

He checked his watch - it still read the same time, but the small digital box that said the date now read 15/09/1942.

He'd made it. There was no going back now.

Harry's hold tightened on his belongings. Dumbledore had advised him not to take a school trunk, as the style had changed quite dramatically over the last few decades. The same could be said for the uniforms, so Harry was dressed in a shirt and trousers that fitted in with the year, and sported a small suitcase that also blended in.

"Right," he muttered. "To-do list."

He fished in his pockets and brought out a large sheaf of parchment. Most of it had been written by Dumbledore, though Professor McGonagall had apparently added in her bit. Harry hadn't looked through it, but he supposed it was a list of things that he would need to learn to fit in with the year. He'd also had to brush up on his history before he came - he'd had a three-hour lecture on the Grindelwald war (which was apparently still running in this time) from Dumbledore, and a brief list of do's and don'ts regarding revealing future information. The last thing anyone wanted to do was change the future dramatically.

1. Tell Professor Dumbledore who you are and why you're there. (This part looked very odd to Harry in Dumbledore's own handwriting.) Do not reveal Tom Riddle's name. Do not tell him the outcome of the war. Avoid mentioning the war if you can help it. Do not tell him your parents' names or about the prophecy. Do not mention the Voldemort war(s) at all. Do not tell him anything about future teaching placements at Hogwarts. Do not tell him about sherbet lemons.

"OK," Harry muttered aloud, "I can do that."

He waited until he couldn't hear anyone outside, then slipped out of the door and quietly made his way to the office that to him was Professor McGonagall's, but now should be Dumbledore's.

"Right," he thought, "here goes."

-----

"Come in."

Albus heard the door open and close. He held out a hand to stop whoever-it-was from speaking as he finished signing the paper, then looked up, replacing his quill. "What do you ..." He trailed off.

He knew all the students by name and was positive he'd never seen this one before. The boy looked around fifteen and was wearing Muggle clothes. He had messy black hair that flopped in his face, deep green eyes Albus had only seen on one person before, and a just-visible mark on his forehead.

"Um ... Who are you?"

The boy sat down on the chair next to his desk without invitation. "My name's Harry, Harry Potter, and I'm from the future." He spoke quickly, as if doing so would lessen the shock.

"Well." Albus leaned back in his seat, staring at the boy who, now he thought of it, reminded him of someone he couldn't place. "I can't say I've heard that one before."

Harry pulled a Chocolate Frog card from his pocket and dropped it on Albus' desk. He picked it up. The back had been wiped blank deliberately, but on the front was a picture of himself ... an older self. His hair had gone silver and he had many more wrinkles. Albus was pleased, however, to see that his photographic self at least looked just as energetic as himself now.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I've been working too hard."

A smile curled Harry's mouth. "You're not hallucinating, Professor."

"I'm not? Damn." Albus rubbed his eyes. "Who are you?"

"I've already told you sir, my name's Harry Potter. But I'm afraid I can't tell you more than that."

"If you're really from the future -"

"I am."

"- how did you get here?"

Right on queue, Fawkes appeared in a burst of flame and settled on Harry's knee.

"I think Fawkes has just answered that," Harry said with a smile, petting the phoenix.

"What are you here for?"

"Not to change anything, if that's what you mean," Harry replied. "Merely to gather information. But I can't tell you what or what for ... at risk of changing the future."

Albus nodded. "I understand. May I ask you how far in the future you come from?"

Harry chewed his lip, before apparently deciding it wouldn't do too much harm if he said. "Fifty years, give or take."

Albus let out a low whistle. "Quite a period." He paused, then added quietly as a thought struck him, "You're not German."

Harry stared at him, and suddenly seemed to realise what he meant and laughed. "No, I'm not."

Questions exploded in Albus' head and he pushed them away, but a bubble of hope swelled inside him nonetheless. By the look on his face, Harry seemed to be thinking he'd said too much, and Albus forced himself to swallow the subject.

"You wish to stay at Hogwarts, I take it?"

"Yes, sir."

"May I ask why you came to me, and not the Headmaster? You don't have to answer," he added quickly as Harry hesitated, "I was just curious."

"Well," Harry seemed to be choosing his words very carefully, "I know you, sir - the future you - and I have reason to trust you with the information." Albus nodded. "I would rather the Headmaster or anyone else didn't know where I was from, sir - or my name, for that matter."

"Understandable," Albus agreed. "But we will have to have some sort of story for the Headmaster - I doubt he would accept a student with no apparent background or education."

Harry bent down and opened his suitcase, taking out a sheaf of papers on the top. "I have these, sir. Records of home tutoring and OWL results, all signed and official."

Albus took them, unable to hide the fact that he was impressed. "These are very good. They are forgeries, I take it?"

"Yes, sir. I attend Hogwarts back in my own time, the only things that are the same are the OWL results. I decided it was best to be honest - actually, you did."

Albus chuckled as he noted the D for Divination, but then he spotted the mark for Defence and whistled. "Outstanding with Honours? I'm impressed."

Harry flushed. "Thank you, sir."

"May I ask how long you think you will be staying? Professor Dippet will want to know that."

"Probably till the end of the year," Harry replied. Albus detected a note of sadness in his voice.

"Is there something troubling you?"

Harry sighed. "It's just my friends, sir. I'm going to miss them."

Albus smiled at him. "I'm sure you will find some friends here, Mr Potter. We have some very interesting pupils in sixth year - You are a sixth year, correct?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. I'm taking NEWT Defence, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology and ... hopefully Potions."

"Hopefully? You got Exceeds Expectations."

"I know - It's just my previous Potions master would only accept students with Os. I wasn't sure what the situation here was."

"I see. Yes, you will be able to do Potions here, Mr Potter." Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Now, I think it is time we paid a visit to the Headmaster, don't you?"

Harry grinned.

TBC ...