Only Time

Sirius slid into a seat next to Remus at lunch, where James stopped eating momentarily to ask, "What'd he want?"

Sirius beamed, wriggling in excitement and causing Remus to glare at him when he shook the table. "He's going to help me be able to break the curse! He said I can have private lessons with him!"

"Why did he do that?" asked Remus, the ever-practical. Sirius glared at him, mad at Remus for being pragmatic in spite of Sirius's jubilation.

"Well, first he said that it seemed like it hadn't been the first time I've come into contact with that curse," Sirius started explaining, and James blinked.

"He didn't make you tell him, did he? If he made you tell him..." James snarled, only aware that he was half-standing up when Sirius leaned over the table and forced him to sit down again.

"He didn't make me tell him. In fact, he told me I didn't have to tell him if I didn't want to. But I told him, because I trust him," Sirius said clearly, looking James straight in the eye. James blinked, looking at him incredulously. Sirius, the person who didn't trust anyone he didn't know well, was trusting someone they just met a couple weeks ago?

"You trust him. You trust a new teacher we know practically nothing about, except that he's obviously powerful enough to use the Unforgivables and to break the Imperius when he was fourteen? For all we know, he might be a Death Eater!" James exclaimed, but Sirius shook his head.

"He's not a Death Eater. He's on the side of the Light as much as you or I. I don't know how I know, but I do. There's just something about him...something that reminds me, strangely enough, of you, James..." Sirius said, and James blinked again.

"Reminds you of me?" James repeated, feeling like he was missing something. How did a teacher they barely knew remind Sirius of his best friend?

"It's hard to explain, but...there's just something about him that makes me think of you," Sirius explained. "Maybe it's because of his eyes--however brown they are, it seems like it's you looking back at me through them. Like your spirit or something. It's hard to explain."

"Maybe they're related," Peter suggested, after swallowing a gulp of pumpkin juice. His friends turned to look at him, and he flushed a bit. "Do you have any cousins with the last name of Patterson, James?"

"Not that I know of," James said slowly, mentally going over his family tree. "I don't think I've ever met any wizards with the last name of Patterson, so he might be Muggle-born. And besides, he's probably too old to be my cousin. He has that white streak in his hair, you know. He has to be old if his hair's already going white."

Remus shook his head. "White streak notwithstanding, I think he's rather young. I'm only seventeen and I have gray streaks. I think he's probably rather close to our age."

"But you have gray streaks because of...you know! You aren't suggesting he's one too, are you?" James asked, and Remus shook his head.

"No, I'd know if he were. But still, he just seems young. Sometimes he seems older, but war can age anyone, I suppose, and we already know he's been through fighting," Remus explained patiently.

"But wouldn't we know him, if he's not that much older than us?" Peter asked. "I mean, we did know a lot of people older than us."

Remus shrugged. "I don't know, maybe he's from a different house, or maybe he didn't even go here. Hogwarts isn't the only wizarding school in the world, you know."

"I suppose you're right," James conceded, then turned to Sirius. "Sear, d'you think you could ask him for us?"

"Me?" Sirius asked, surprised. "Why me?"

"Because you're taking private lessons with him now, and we're not! It'll be easier for you to talk to him when there aren't so many other students around," James replied. Sirius nodded, his blue eyes thoughtful.

"Yeah, I suppose," Sirius agreed, then grinned suddenly. " 'Sides, it's only fair for me to ask him about his family, after I told him stuff about mine."

Just as the conversation turned to other things, James thought he heard Remus mutter, "Private lessons...for throwing off the Imperius..." He sounded thoughtful, and James blinked, wondering why he was talking about that, but then Remus laughed at one of Sirius's jokes, and James let it drift to the back of his mind.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That night, as James was working on an essay for Charms, Sirius, who had been playing chess with Remus, came and sat down next to him, pulling out a blank roll of parchment, a quill, and several books.

"Defense assignment," Sirius said shortly, when James raised an eyebrow in inquiry. "Best to make a good impression on Patterson by doing the assignment well."

James, who was already mostly done with the assignment, nodded and smiled a bit, going back to work on his essay, though inwardly he was musing about Sirius's abrupt about-face regarding homework. Sirius's usual policy was to get it all done at the last minute so he'd have more time for planning pranks and other ways to torture the Slytherins and exasperate the teachers, so Sirius putting so much effort into an assignment for any class was a bit of a surprise. Sure, Sirius always did well in his class; he had natural talent and the intrinsic knowledge of how to use it, but he didn't typically 'wear himself out'--as he put it--doing homework when there were other things to do. What was there about the Defense professor that sparked this new desire to do well in that class? Suddenly incredibly curious, James rolled up his parchment and stood up, resolving to go and talk to the professor.

Sirius looked up as James stood up. "Going somewhere?" he asked, and James racked his mind for a plausible lie. He didn't want to tell his best friend that he was going to Professor Patterson to talk about Sirius, after all.

"Going to the kitchens. I rather fancy an éclair right now," James said, and Sirius nodded before going back to his essay.

"Bring one back for me, will you?" he said, and James nodded before going upstairs and getting out the Marauder's Map. He decided not to take the Invisibility Cloak, as the fewer teachers who knew about that, the better, and he figured his Head Boy badge would be enough to discourage anyone from giving him detention. He could just claim that he was patrolling the halls, as it wasn't that late yet.

He stuffed the Map in his pocket and made sure that his Head Boy badge was placed where everyone could see it before leaving Gryffindor Tower. He walked a few hallways down and made sure that no one was around before he pulled out the Map, taking out his wand and softly saying the password.

From the point where his wand touched the Map, spidery lines branched out until they formed words, and then the map of the castle itself. James gave it a cursory glance, making sure that there was no one between him and the Defense office, where he was reasonably sure the professor was, but just in case...he looked over the part of the Map where the Defense office was, and saw that there was indeed a name there. But just as he was about to put away the Map, his eyes widened when he saw what exactly that name was.

Harry Potter.

His mind completely blanked out in surprise, James stood stock still for several minutes, unable to take his eyes off the dot that proclaimed someone in his family was in the castle. But I don't know any Potters named Harry...and where's Professor Patterson? Why is this Harry Potter in Professor Patterson's office? James thought as soon as his mind started up again. But he figured the only way to know would be to go find out, so he set off, still carefully watching the Map to make sure that no one was coming his way, and the make sure that the dot labeled Harry Potter did not go anywhere.

James arrived in front of the Defense office and wiped the Map, stuffing it back in his pocket. He stood there, looking at the door for a while, before steeling himself and knocking. He was surprised when the voice of his professor called, "Come in," and he frantically took the Map out and whispered the password, then shook his head in confusion. Harry Potter was currently the only one in the Defense office, so why had he heard Professor Patterson's voice? He was just wiping the Map again when the door opened, and James forgot about putting the Map away as he stared at the man in front of him.

He looked nearly exactly like Professor Patterson, but this man was wearing glasses, had bright green eyes of a shade James had only seen on Lily Evans, and from under his fringe James could see the outline of an oddly shaped scar.

"Mr. Potter?" asked the voice of his professor, but James could do nothing but gape at him.

Finally James gathered himself together enough to blurt, "Are you related to Lily Evans?" Even as James berated himself for the unexpected question, the man stiffened, and slowly brought his hand up to his face, swearing when he touched his glasses.

"Oh bloody hell..." he muttered, then held the door wide open. "Might as well come in, James. Sit down." James was still so surprised that he just walked straight in and sat down in a chair in front of a desk cluttered with papers. James barely noticed that he still had the Map clutched tightly in his fist.

The man--Harry Potter? Professor Patterson?--sat down behind the desk, sighed, and steepled his fingers. "I can't answer all your questions, James," he began, but James interrupted him.

"Are you Professor Patterson?" James asked, and the man nodded. "Why are you calling yourself that?"

The professor looked confused. "What do you mean?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Your real name is Harry Potter, isn't it?" James asked, eyes focused on his teacher. He didn't even notice the perch near the window, on which slept a bird similar to the one in the Headmaster's office.

"How did you--" Patterson's eyes narrowed, then widened as he saw the parchment crumpled in James's fist. "Ah. The Marauder's Map. I should have known."

Now James was really confused. "But...how did you know about our Map? We only finished it last year, and we haven't told anyone about it yet. And if your surname is Potter, why are you saying it's Patterson? And if you are a Potter, why don't I know you?"

The professor sighed. "Yes, my name is Harry Potter," he admitted reluctantly. "But you don't know me because I haven't been born yet."

"What do you--oh," James's eyes widened at the realization. "You're from the future." From the future! Merlin...I wonder how he got here and why he's here. And who his parents are. And how old he is. It'd be weird if he was older than me, and he's not even born yet...

"Guilty as charged," Harry Potter agreed, smiling a bit ruefully. "But I couldn't let someone know I was a Potter, or they'd be clamoring to know what relation I am to you, and you'd want to know why you'd never met me before...and it would all be a big mess."

"Well, what relation are you to me?" James couldn't help asking. Harry Potter laughed softly.

"I'm your son," he said, and James stared. My...son? My SON? This...is so incredibly weird. I wonder who the mother is...wait...those eyes...that means...

"YES!" James yelled suddenly, jumping up and dancing around his chair. Harry Potter looked startled, then looked like he was wondering if James had gone mad. Over by the window, the bird lifted its head up to see the commotion, but James was so busy with his victory dance that he didn't notice.

"Ah...James? Mind telling me what you're so happy about?" the other Potter asked tentatively, brilliant emerald eyes wide behind his glasses. James stopped dancing and sat down in the chair again, grinning widely.

"Your eyes!" he exclaimed. "Those are Lily Evans's eyes! If you have Lily Evans's eyes, then she must be your mother, which means she married me, which means she'll have agreed to go out with me! I've been asking her for years now, and it's wonderful to see that she finally will! YES!"

Harry was still looking at James as if he'd gone mad, but soon the corners of his mouth began to twitch and he started to chuckle softly. The chuckle soon became a full-fledged laugh, which had Harry bent over his desk, tears streaming down his face as he laughed. James soon joined in and both Potters laughed as neither had for years.

"This...is so weird!" James gasped as he fought for control over his laughter. Harry sat up, still wheezing a bit, grinning.

"You think it's weird? You have no idea how odd it is to see your father when he's your age! If I cut my hair, it would go back to its normal mess, and we could pass for twins! Well, except for the eyes, of course, and the white streak," Harry said, and James blinked.

"My age? You're my age? As in seventeen?" James asked incredulously, and Harry nodded. "But then why are you teaching, if you're only seventeen?"

Harry winced. "Ah, that's a very long story. I can't really tell you without giving away too much of the future, and that could change it. I'd really rather not cause a paradox."

"Okay...then can you tell me why you have a white streak in your hair if you're only seventeen?" James asked instead. Harry sighed and pulled the streak of white in front of him, then let it fall back into the folds of his hair.

"Stress," Harry said simply. "Along with a great deal of magic usage in a small amount of time, but I believe stress was the main factor."

"Stress?" James blinked again. "What could a seventeen year old be doing that's so incredibly stressful that they get white hairs?"

"I can't answer that," Harry replied.

James exhaled noisily. "Ah well. Hmmm...Remus will be glad to know he was right about you..."

Harry sat straight up in his chair, his eyes suddenly hard emerald as he pinned James to his chair with his piercing gaze. "Right about me how?"

"When he said you seemed more like our age, despite the white streak. We were talking about you after Sirius told us you were going to help him with the whole Imperius thing, and Remus insisted that you were young," James answered. Harry relaxed a bit and he looked away, his eyes softening a bit. James relaxed too as that green gaze left him. Reminds me a bit of Dumbledore and how he always seems to be able to look through you, James thought. Then he decided to ask more. "So...how far in the future are you from? What are Lily and I like? And Sirius, Remus, and Peter? What kind of jobs do we have? Is You-Know-Who still around?"

"I'm not supposed to give anything away about the future," Harry said, looking a bit annoyed at all the questions. James frowned a bit. He can't tell me anything! he complained to himself, but was careful not to say it out loud. Son or not, from the future or not, Harry was still his teacher, and pissing off a teacher was not a good thing to do.

"James..." James looked up to find Harry's eyes fixed on him again, and he gulped. "Where were you going before you decided to come see me?"

James frowned more, his brow furrowing a bit. "I actually was coming to see you in the first place, because I wanted to talk to you about Sirius, and see if I could trust you casting the Imperius curse on him, though now that I know you're my son, you're definitely trustworthy!" James laughed a bit, but Harry didn't. It seemed like Harry was waiting for something else, so James continued, "But I told Sirius--by the way, are Sirius and I still best friends?--that I was going to the kitchens for an éclair and that I'd bring one back for him."

"Ah. I see," Harry ignored his question and turned away, towards the window, trilling something. James turned in time to see the candlelight glint off something golden before whatever-it-was flew towards the desk, landing on Harry's outstretched arm. Once he could see clearly what it was, James gaped. How the HELL did Harry--my son--end up with a phoenix? I thought only Professor Dumbledore had one of those!

"This is Hikari," Harry told James, softly stroking Hikari's feathers. Hikari trilled and reached up, nuzzling Harry's neck before hopping off his arm, soaring a bit until she was sitting on James's lap. James sat stock still, afraid to move because he didn't want to upset the golden creature on his lap. He glanced up, about to ask how Harry had gotten a phoenix, but then he met Harry's piercing emerald stare for a second before lowering his eyes to the phoenix before him, his throat suddenly dry. Hikari looked up, and James's hazel eyes met the golden ones of the phoenix. Then he knew no more.