2

1976

1976

Slowly, Harry regained awareness. His whole body was sore and he was lying on his back. He blinked slowly, then opened his eyes to see a blue sky dotted with high, thin clouds. Huh? Why am I outside?

Grunting in pain, Harry pulled himself into a sitting position. It felt like he'd traveled a very long distance via portkey. He glanced around, orienting himself to his new surroundings—only to realize they were very familiar. Wasn't that…Honeydukes? But why did it look so run-down? Last he knew, business was booming. And that was Hermione's favorite shop, Shriveners. It looked a lot…newer. Like it was just built.

A groan sounded a few feet away. Harry looked toward the sound to see Tonks sitting up, blinking confusedly. Her eyes widened as she looked around, then she turned sharply toward Harry.

"What in Merlin's name did you do this time?" she demanded. Her hair turned a dangerous shade of orange.

"It's not my fault!" Harry said automatically, getting to his feet. Suddenly he found himself staring Tonks directly in the face.

"It is entirely your fault. You never mean to get into trouble, yet it follows you like a magnet!"

"You don't have to yell at me," Harry protested. "I don't do it on purpose!"

"Maybe not, but it still happened. Now we could be Merlin knows when!"

"I know exactly where we are—Hogsmeade!" Harry retorted. Then her words registered. Wait…when? "Bollocks."

"Finally caught on then, have you?" Tonks crossed her arms, her hair turning dark red. "We could literally be anywhere in time."

"Well, we're obviously not in the Stone Age," Harry offered, trying to quell his growing panic with humor.

Tonks scoffed. "That depends on who you ask." Then she glanced around again, her hair turning a less dangerous shade of blue. "You're right, though. We can't have gone more than a hundred years or so in either direction." Her voice carried a little more than a hint of sarcasm.

"So let's find a newspaper and find out."

"If they even exist yet," Tonks muttered.

They split up, scanning doorsteps and rubbish bins for a recent newspaper. It was late afternoon, but there was no one about and most of the shops were closed. So they were spared, at least for now, any curious glances. After a few minutes of searching, Harry heard a gasp.

"It's not possible," Tonks breathed.

"What's not possible?" Harry asked, rejoining her in front of Honeydukes.

"This," she said, pointing at the top corner of the crumpled Daily Prophet she held.

Harry furrowed his brow, scanning the headlines. Then he spotted the date Tonks had indicated. 1976, it read. They had traveled twenty years into the past.

Harry stared openmouthed at the date, hoping this was some kind of prank. Words were beyond him. They needed to be getting back soon. Not that the Dursleys would worry, but still. And Tonks had work in the morning. Then it hit him. Twenty years. Harry's parents were still—

"So, now what?" Tonks's voice broke Harry out of his daze. He shook himself a little and glanced again at the newspaper Tonks still held out. The actual date read August 3, 1976. While it may have been a few days old, it was the same time of year as when they'd—left? Been transported? Whichever it was, it was scarcely a week's difference.

"I guess we find someplace to stay, at least until term starts."

"What does the start of term have to do with anything?"

"Obviously, I'm going back to Hogwarts. I'm about to start my sixth year," Harry said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He couldn't fathom otherwise. "Besides, Dumbledore can help us figure out how to get back to our time." Harry tried to tell himself it wasn't because he wanted to go to school at the same time—and maybe even in the same year!—as his parents.

"I'm not going back to school," Tonks declared. "I don't want to go back into that cesspool of teenaged angst and drama."

"You'd leave the poor, underaged orphan to fend for himself?" Harry made his best puppy-dog eyes and secretly smirked to himself when she hesitated.

Tonks glared at him for a good minute before she finally huffed. "Fine. I guess someone has to keep you out of trouble. Little brother," she declared, smirking at Harry now.

Harry brightened. "I've always wanted a twin sister."

"Oy! Who said anything about being twins?"

Harry shrugged. "It's either that or you become a seventh year. And you'll have to retake your NEWTs," he added, smirking.

"Twins it is, then," Tonks said quickly. "Still remember what I showed you?"

Harry nodded, then closed his eyes and concentrated. Over the summer, through a completely innocent recounting of childhood accidental magic, Harry had discovered that he was a metamorphmagus. He was still very much a beginner, but Tonks had been coaching him ever since he found out, and Harry had been practicing every chance he got—innate magic, such as with a metamorphmagus, was the only type of magic the Ministry couldn't track.

After a moment, Harry opened his eyes. Tonks gave him an approving nod and handed him a hand mirror (the newspaper was nowhere in sight). Harry smirked at his reflection—straight midnight black hair that hung just past his ears (and over his forehead, hiding the famous scar), grey-green eyes, slightly sharper cheekbones. There was only the slightest trace left of Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, and only if you knew to look for it would you find it.

Harry glanced up just in time to see Tonks transform herself into a female copy of Harry's chosen appearance. She even kept the short-cropped hair. If it weren't for Tonks's obviously female figure, they would have been exactly identical.

"Shall we find a room, dear brother?" Tonks asked, her now-blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

"We shall, dear sister," Harry teased back. Tonks rolled her eyes, but grabbed his arm and apparated the pair of them to Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron.

The next day, Tonks and Harry faced several new problems. They had new appearances, but they needed names, and a story, and basic necessities. Harry had his Hogwarts bag on him in which he'd brought supplies for his tests, but all that had were a few books, parchment scraps, and some quills and ink, and a bag of gold, plus his four most prized possessions that he kept on him at all times—his invisibility cloak, the Marauders' Map, his photo album, and his (shrunken) Firebolt—tucked into a secret compartment. Tonks had nothing but her wand and the clothes on her back and a few sickles stuffed into a pocket and forgotten.

So, after renting a room, the day was spent buying necessities, like clothes, and looking for temporary employment (because Harry's gold wouldn't last long and wouldn't cover any emergency expenses that might come up). They also wrote to Dumbledore.

Harry tried to convince Tonks to ask the headmaster for help getting back to their own time, but Tonks declared this was a perfect time for Harry to finally learn some responsibility. So, they'd research on their own for a while and only ask for help if they couldn't find any answers by Christmas. Instead, Tonks composed a letter explaining that two recently orphaned and previously homeschooled sixteen-year-old siblings desired to attend Hogwarts to complete their education.

By the time the letter was finished, Harry had found a temporary job helping Tom the barkeep around the Leaky Cauldron, mostly doing dishes. By the time they finished shopping, Tonks had been hired on as Madame Malkin's assistant, as the previous one had only just quit. By evening, the pair—now known around Diagon Alley as twins Harrison and Joselyn Carter—were exhausted but content.

The next two weeks kept Harry and Tonks busy. Their official Hogwarts acceptance letters arrived the Monday following their arrival, as well as a letter from Professor McGonagall stating that should they need any kind of assistance to simply contact her. So as soon as their new jobs permitted, they went shopping for school supplies. Harry spent his free time continuing his studies from the summer and keeping up his Occlumency. Tonks spent her free time borrowing Harry's notes and brushing up on what she should know as a new sixth-year student at Hogwarts.

After the first week, the Alley—previously sparsely populated—began to fill up as students started coming to get supplies for the new term. Harry began to make a game out of how many he could pick out as possible parents or relatives of the kids in his year, back in 1996. Even Tonks started to catch the excitement of returning to Hogwarts.

Then they both received a brutal reminder that this was anything but peacetime.

Without warning on a Tuesday afternoon, red-robed figures began Flooing into the Leaky Cauldron while Harry was on shift, and patrons began storming the pub in their rush to get out.

"Death Eaters! Attack in Diagon Alley!" came the cry.

Harry's heart stopped. Tonks! Surely the robe shop would be a target. He glanced pleadingly at Tom, who nodded resignedly at Harry's panicked request. Without looking back, Harry took off through the pub and into the Alley

Immediately upon entering, Harry ducked and rolled to the side to avoid two curses, one a sickly orangey-red and the other a vibrant green he was all too familiar with. Smoke filled the air, muffling the sound of the panicked shouts that rang across the whole Alley. Rubble littered the ground and Harry scraped up his hands and knees as he stumbled his way toward Madame Malkin's. Four times he was forced to cast a shield charm, and twice he retaliated to spells sent his way.

"Ton—Joselyn!" Harry called, choking on the smoke. He knew she could take care of herself—she was a fully-trained auror—but that didn't stop him from worrying about his surrogate sister.

He spotted her by the light blue over robe that was her work uniform and the short-cropped black hair. He rushed to her side, gasping. She gave him a tight smile, then immediately cast a shield charm as spells came at the pair of them from both sides. Almost automatically, Harry moved to cover her back as she moved to cover his and they furiously fought off the black-robed assailants.

The fight seemed to last an eternity. Death Eaters were everywhere and they clearly had the upper hand. Already Harry was battered and dirty, and Tonks was hardly faring any better. Suddenly a surge of figures clad in dark red flooded the streets of Diagon Alley—the aurors had arrived! Almost immediately all the Death Eaters vanished but for about half a dozen who had been incapacitated by the fighters.

In the wake of their disappearance, the Alley was left in confusion and fear. There was rubble everywhere; hardly any of the main shop fronts remained undamaged. The few Death Eaters who had been left behind were quickly apprehended and transported to the Ministry. Then the cleanup efforts began. Harry and Tonks helped where they could, moving in and amongst the aurors and shopkeepers to help the wounded, clear the worst of the rubble, and begin rudimentary repairs.

"Good job, kids," one of the aurors said, wiping his brow.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, turning toward him. Then he did a double-take—this man had the same messy black hair that Harry did (when he wasn't morphed into Harrison Carter, that is), similar features, and hazel eyes that seemed somehow familiar.

The man Harry was now certain was his grandfather smiled. His eyes crinkled and the expression fairly took ten years off his face. "I should be thanking you. Between the three of us," he said, lowering his voice, the smile still in place, "you kids were more effective than half my auror team put together."

Harry tried to hide a flush of pride; Tonks smirked. "We try," she said.

It was dusk by the time Harry and Tonks returned to the Leaky Cauldron, dusty, bruised, and exhausted. Tom took one look at Harry and gave him the day off tomorrow. Harry managed a tired smile in thanks. The moment they returned to their room, he collapsed onto his bed and was almost immediately asleep.

Before Harry knew it, it was the day before term was to start. The mood of the Alley had changed drastically since the attack, but even a Death Eater attack couldn't forestall the influx of new and returning Hogwarts students coming to get their supplies. Harry and Tonks had received their official Hogwarts letters two weeks previous and they had purchased all their supplies just a few days ago.

Around nine o'clock, Tom the barkeep insisted Harry take the rest of the night off and go to bed early. Harry gladly agreed. He had a feeling he'd need his sleep for tomorrow—the day he'd meet his parents for the first time. He was already nervous, and he had no desire to make things worse by being tired. So, as soon as he returned to his room, he got ready for bed. Tonks returned just as he was beginning his Occlumency practice—a habit he'd gotten into shortly after returning from his fifth year, realizing how useful it was, not only for keeping his mind clear, but also for keeping it organized. Studying was far easier if he took the time to organize his mind each night.

"Turning in?" Tonks asked as she came in.

"Yeah. Tomorrow will be bad enough; I don't want to be tired on top of it."

Tonks smiled sympathetically. "Don't let me keep you up, then."

Harry nodded. "Thanks. Good night." And with that he turned in, hoping for a good night's rest.

Things did not go according to plan.

Watch out!

No! Sirius, no!

You're weak, boy. You could never hope to defeat me...

Spell fire. Shouting. His friends were in danger. He had to get to them. Running, shouting their names. He had to—

Running through the Department of Mysteries. Taunting laughter from a wild-haired woman. A fluttering veil.

Running through Little Hangleton graveyard. A bubbling cauldron. Echoing voices. Names on the tombstones, familiar ones. Cedric Diggory. Luna Lovegood. Nymphadora Tonks. Ronald Weasley. Ginny Weasley. Hermione Granger. Remus Lupin. Sirius Black. James Potter. Lily Potter. A flash of green light. A scream.

Harry woke with a stifled cry. His heart was pounding; his eyes were damp and stinging. He took a deep, unsteady breath and glanced over. Tonks was undisturbed. She lay sprawled across the bed like always, silhouetted by the pale light of the growing dawn. The covers were lopsided, her hair splayed across the pillow, her chest gently rising and falling with each slow breath.

Harry took another breath and whispered a tempus charm. It was just after six. Harry sighed. He wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight—or rather, this morning. He sighed once more and quietly got out of bed.

After a quick shower and dressing in dark trousers and a button-down shirt, Harry felt a little more like himself. But the nightmare lingered in the back of his mind. Lack of a proper night's sleep made him queasy, and even after the hot shower his face was still pale. Dark circles ringed his eyes and if it weren't for his metamorphmagus abilities he would look downright sickly. As it was, he wasn't adept enough yet to make all the evidence disappear.

After a good two hours spent reading and trying to distract himself, Tonks finally began to stir. Harry mostly ignored her as she went about her morning routine bleary-eyed. She tripped over her trunk twice, slipped on a discarded shirt, and banged her shin against the table leg before her eyes were fully open. Then she glowered at Harry's faint smirk and finished getting ready. She only dropped three things, and thankfully none of them were breakable.

"You know, I get the sense that you're nervous, somehow," Harry observed dryly.

"Shut it. Like you're not."

He was; his stomach was twisting into tighter and tighter knots as the hour drew nearer for them to leave. Just the thought of boarding the Express, usually cause for excitement, filled Harry with dread. He was glad he'd packed last night; it gave him one less thing to worry about. Of course, the way Tonks was scrambling about gathering her belongings didn't help—her anxiety made him nervous. And her hair would not settle on a single color. It flickered through every color of the rainbow and then some before Harry finally intervened.

"Relax, Joselyn!" he snapped. "Or we'll miss breakfast and the train."

Tonks blinked in surprise. The alias seemed to bring her back to her senses. "Right. Harrison," she tried to wink and pass off her nerves but didn't quite manage it. Either way, she started packing a little more thoughtfully and eventually managed to stuff everything into her trunk.

"Okay. Let's go," she announced at half past nine, dusting her hands on her black jeans. Harry rolled his eyes as she checked her reflection in the mirror one last time. Then she straightened her Pink Floyd t-shirt and fixed her hair from orange and waist-length to a black pixie cut with blue streaks. When Harry raised an eyebrow, she just shrugged.

"It adds character. Why don't you try it?"

"I would, except we're supposed to not draw attention to ourselves," Harry groused. "And if you leave it like that, you'll want to change it every day."

"So? I'll just say I like playing with color-changing charms and human transfiguration."

Harry gave a longsuffering sigh. "Fine. Do it your way. But don't expect me to join in."

Tonks pouted. "Spoilsport." But she led the way out of their rooms and down the stairs to the bar.

"Off t' Hogwarts, then?" Tom asked as the pair emerged from the stairwell dragging their trunks.

"Yep," Tonks answered cheerfully. Harry nodded; he wasn't in the mood to even pretend to be as chipper as his companion. But he did give the old barkeep a smile of gratitude.

"Thanks for everything," he said.

Tom smiled back. "Keep in touch, then, lad. I'll be missin' yer helpin' hands 'round here. And keep yer sister in line, will ya?"

"I will," Harry promised with an almost-genuine grin.

"Oy!" Tonks protested. Harry shrugged, raising an eyebrow. Then he waved at the old barkeep, and led the way out of the Leaky Cauldron. Tonks took his arm and, with a wink, she brought him by side-along apparation to Kings' Cross Station.