Harry Potter and the Backwards Glance

Harry Potter was dreading his future instead of eagerly anticipating it as he should have been. His whole demeanor had been off for days, not even a snide remark about his least favorite teacher had gotten a smile out of him.
This was his seventh and final year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Soon, he would be out in the real world and would have to choose a career. He was qualified to go into Auror training, join a Quidditch team, or any number of other possibilities. This was one of those times a young man needed his parents. It sucked being an orphan. With Sirius gone he felt he had no one to guide him. Sure, he could go to McGonagall, but she’d just tell him he’d have to decide for himself. There was only one person who had any possibility of telling him what his future held. Crazy as she was, there was that one time when she had told him of a fateful event before it happened. Had he not been so shocked, he would have stayed and waited for details; then maybe he would have caught the one who betrayed his parents before he got away. Maybe, if he did become an Auror he cold throw Peter Pettigrew into Azkaban where he would be left to rot. On the other hand, becoming an Auror could prove to ruin his future, if he did something against the rules as he so often did. Maybe, just maybe, Professor Trelawney could see his future. She might be able to tell him if his career choice would lead to success or failure.
He could already smell the perfumed fire as he climbed up to North Tower on a cold Friday evening. The door hidden at the back of the classroom creaked open as Sibyll Trelawney stepped out. “Come into my office, dear boy. I’ve been expecting you. Don‘t mind my familiar he knows where you will step and has situated himself accordingly.” Harry still stepped cautiously to avoid the fluffy black cat. He spoke with the same hesitation. “Professor Trelawney?”
She gave a strange smile. “Dear boy, do not be afraid. Seeing is a powerful gift, but I am really quite harmless.”
He cleared his throat and tried again. “Professor, I need to know what the future holds for me.”
She gave a strange half hearted laugh. “Dear boy, you have not been sleeping well. You should lie down on my old couch over there.”
Well, he thought, it didn’t take a Seer to know that he hadn‘t been sleeping well. He had looked in the mirror in the boys’ lavatory earlier and his eyes were bloodshot and had purple bags under them. Maybe he hadn’t needed to drag his tired body all the way up here. “Thank you Professor, but I have a bed in the dormitory so I’ll just go and come back to see my future when I’m more rested.”
Trelawney spoke in a kind but firm tone. “No, I am sure you’ll be more ready to see after a nap on this couch.”
Harry gave a questioning glance, but the room was so warm his tiredness was beginning to overwhelm him. He went over to the couch, lied down, and within seconds was in a deep sleep.
After what seemed like no time at all he awoke with a start. The desk on the other side of the room was empty and the crystal ball that had was on it had been replaced by a spread of tarot cards. Wait a minute. Hadn’t the room been pink not green? He ran through to the empty classroom. It was strangely bright. There were desks rather than the small velvet covered tables. He ran down the stairs and saw Madame Pince, the librarian, standing there with her nose in a book. For some odd reason her hair was down rather than in its usual bun and she was wearing a Ravenclaw uniform with a prefect badge pinned to the robe. “Madame Pince, did you happen to see Professor Trelawney come down the stairs?” She looked around the empty hallway before answering him. “What did you just call me? I’m Irma Walters the Ravenclaw prefect. I haven’t seen anyone except you come down those stairs. Now, if you’ll excuse me I must be getting back to the library to study.”
Harry muttered a quick, “Thanks!” and watched her walk away. She wasn’t even quite as tall as Madame Pince so it must not have been her, but he could have sworn it was. A group of Gryffindors came down the hall, but he didn’t recognize any of them. Didn’t he know all of his fellow Gryffindors? This was just getting too strange for him to comprehend. In that sort of situation there is only one person to ask, Professor Dumbledore.
Harry made his way to the office, not recognizing a single person he passed. He came to the stone gargoyle and said “milkshake strawberry” which he knew was the current password to the Headmaster’s office. It did not move. “Oh come on now! That is the password. I really need to see Professor Dumbledore.” The stone gargoyle moved aside and the stairs came down with Albus Dumbledore riding on the next to last step. He spoke unconcernedly, “Is there something I can help you with?” Harry nodded and Dumbledore led him to his office where Harry proceeded to tell his crazy story.
“Professor, something strange has happened. I was lying on Professor Trelawney’s couch and I woke up and everything was strange. The room had changed colors and the classroom was different. It’s almost like I’m a stranger to the place where I’ve spent the last seven years.”
Albus rubbed his beard a few seconds before replying. “Yes, strange indeed. I take great pride in knowing each one of my students by name and face. I cannot say I’ve seen you before, yet I’m quite certain we have met.”
Harry was stunned silent for a few moments. This was terrible. What had that strange woman done to him? Maybe he had changed in appearance.
“It’s me. Harry Potter, Sir.” Dumbledore spoke again with a quiet calm. “Potter, a fairly common name. You wouldn’t by any chance be related to James Potter?”
Harry’s stomach lurched. Had an evil wizard managed to modify Dumbledore’s memory? No, it just couldn’t be possible. He told Dumbledore in disbelief. “My father is James Potter.”
Dumbledore shook his head. “The James I know is around your age. You do resemble him, but looks can be deceiving.”
This was so horribly strange. Harry collected his thoughts. There can’t have been that many James Potters to pass through Hogwarts. “Is the James Potter here dark haired with glasses and the Gryffindor chaser?”
Dumbledore looked at him with a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. “Yes, that is James Potter. Where was this couch you were lying on?”
Harry said with his most confused look yet. “In the North Tower.”
Dumbledore rubbed his long beard in contemplation once more. “Hogwarts holds many secrets that few have ever heard of. It has been rumored by the Seers who have inhabited the North Tower over the years, that when there is something of deepest importance to be seen, one can lie on that couch and be transported back in time only to return when the thing has been learned. They call it the Backwards Glance. Such couches are exceedingly rare and having it deem your situation worthy of the Backwards Glance is even more rare.”
Harry was not fully comfortable with this explanation. “Is that what has happened to me?”
Dumbledore nodded. “I do believe so. Now, Harry, while you are here you mustn’t tell anyone about their future. To do so could have disastrous consequences.”
Harry thought about his parents doomed to die. “Worse than death?”
Dumbledore spoke with a tiny chill his usual warmth. “Yes indeed. Knowing one’s date of death can cause irrational fear of life and that fear can only bring death closer.”
Harry nodded. If he couldn’t save his parents then what could be important enough to send him back through time? “What do I do now?”
Dumbledore glanced thoughtfully at the piece of candy in his hand. “You said your father is here. You should spend time with him. I would suspect that what you have to learn has something to do with him. I‘ll have a house elf bring you some plain robes. You will be my guest and stay in Gryffindor Tower. To avoid questions you can‘t answer, I‘ll ask that you use the surname, Underwood.”
Harry nodded, barely able to comprehend any of this.