Awkwardness ensues in this chapter.

Ok, first thing's first, guys. I am extremely sorry. I know it's been almost a year. I never really meant to abandon this. Life just happened, like it seems to make a habit of doing. I have been working on this little by little, and spouted out this chapter. It is longer than the first chapter, so that's a positive. And I'm hoping to keep this story going, so... Don't give up on me yet!

Disclaimer: Forsooth, for the tale of Harry wasn't scribed by I. 'Twas written by the magnificently talented J. K. of the Rowling clan.

Recap:

"Ah, Evans! Your beauty glows warmer than a summer day!" A voice came from behind them.

Lily groaned tiredly. "Not now, Potter."

'Potter?' Albus turned around. "James, you-"

He stopped when he saw the figure. Sure, he shared a lot of similarities, like the cocky smirk and messy hair, but this guy wore glasses while James didn't, and had hazel colored eyes.

The boy shot a glance at him bemusedly. "Do I know you?"

"Just leave him alone, Potter," Lily snapped. "He shouldn't have to be subjected to your idiocy."

"I didn't do anything yet!" Potter protested, ruffling his hair. "Anyway, Evans, go out with me?"

Suddenly, everything seemed to click for Albus. Evans. Potter. Lily Evans.

"It's May 26." Lily hadn't mentioned the year when she told him this. It wasn't May 26, 2020. James hadn't sent him back six months.

He sent him back 40-50 years.

CHAPTER 2

"Al? Are you okay?"

Albus blinked, brought back to attention by Lily. "Huh?" He looked around. "Where did Ja... James go?"

Lily furrowed her eyebrows. "He left about a minute ago," she said, her voice laced with concern. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm..." Was he alright? Albus couldn't say for sure. "I need to see McGo- the headmaster," he corrected, remembering that McGonnagal wasn't headmistress at this time.

"Dumbledore?" Lily said. "Is this about the time turner issue?"

"Sort of... It appears my calculations were a bit off," he told her, being intentionally vague.

"What do you-" Lily began, but stopped at the look on Albus' face. "Sorry, I won't intrude anymore. The password to his office is 'Treacle Tarts'. You know where it is, right?"

"Yeah," Albus said, still a bit unnerved by the realization that he was talking to his dead grandmother. "Thanks for your help."

Lily waved her hand, dismissing his gratitude. "I should be telling you that. You are the one who helped me with my homework. I hope you get all this sorted out soon!"

Albus nodded and left the library, slightly relieved for the escape. He didn't know what to think about the whole thing. His mind was in a jumble, various thoughts occasionally jumping to the forefront of his brain.

'I can't believe I'm actually in the 70s!'

'James is dead.'

'At least there's no chance of me running into my past self.'

'It's one thing to read about a time period, but to actually experience it... This could be a great research opportunity.'

'I just met my teenage grandparents! Dad hasn't even been born yet!'

'James is so dead.'

He eventually arrived at the statue that acted as the door to the headmaster's office. He spoke the password and went in, somewhat nervous at meeting someone who was not only one of the most famous wizards of all time, but also his namesake.

When he came in, he saw Dumbledore sitting at his desk, watching Albus as if he was expecting him. He raised an eyebrow at the fidgety boy.

"And who might you be?" he queried, peering at Albus through his spectacles.

Albus straightened his back, summoning up his courage. "My name is Albus Severus Potter. And I'm . . . I'm from the future."

Dumbledore stared for a moment, his expression unreadable. ". . . Explain," he said eventually.

And Albus did. He told him how he had been in the library, and how James had come and given him the time turner, and he appeared here, 45-some years in the past. He didn't tell the headmaster that he was dead in the future, or that Voldemort wasn't around, or even that all the time turners were destroyed. He didn't dare risk changing some vital event that may end with him not being born.

When he was finished, Dumbledore peered at him. "Am I right in saying that you are related to a Mr. James Potter?"

Albus flushed slightly. "Yes, sir. He's my grandfather."

Dumbledore smiled, a twinkle in his eyes. "As I thought. Do you still have the time turner?"

He nodded and pulled the infernal artifact out from around his neck, giving it a slight glare before he handed it to the old headmaster.

Dumbledore took it. "Thank you," he said calmly, tucking the time turner into a pocket hidden in his robes. "I'll be looking into this, and will let you know when I find something. For now, you may pose as a temporary exchange student. You are in Ravenclaw, correct?"

"Yeah..." Albus said, then frowned as a sudden thought occurred to him. "I've already told someone that I've gone back in time, though. She does think I've only gone back 6 months, but it could still pose a problem if I'm to masquerade as an exchange student."

"I see," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Who is this exactly?"

"Lily Po-Evans, sir," Albus replied, barely catching himself and using her maiden name instead.

Dumbledore's eyes glinted, Albus's only indication that he could have possibly caught his slip up. "I see. I could erase her memories, although I have some qualms about obliviating a student. It wouldn't do to just leave her be, either. It's up to you whether you want to tell Ms. Evans the truth or not."

Albus was quiet for a moment, before speaking slowly and carefully, as if weighing each word. "I think it would be best to only tell her a part of the story. I won't tell her any vital information, like what happens in the future, but just enough to satisfy her. But... In case I do let anything slip... I don't want to make you, but-"

"I understand," Dumbledore interrupted. "I'll be here, with my wand ready."

He smiled somewhat halfheartedly. "Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore pulled out a sheet of parchment and a quill, and started to scribble on it. He rolled it up and handed it to Albus.

"Take this to the Ravenclaw common room," he told him. "Ask around for Ryan Perrison - he's the current head boy. You may give him this scroll, which will explain your current situation."

"My situ-" Albus started. "You're going to tell a random Ravenclaw I've never met who I am? Are you sure we can trust this guy?"

Dumbledore's lips turned up in a slight smile. "Your situation," he continued patiently, "By which I mean your temporary transfer from your old wizarding school, the name of which I have carelessly forgotten to mention, and will implore you to become temporarily deaf when the question of its nomenclature pops up in conversation in order to avoid unnecessary investigating of an innocent institution merely caught in our crossfire. I do hope this explanation placates you somewhat."

Albus could feel his cheeks burning in humiliation. "Yes, sir," he muttered. "Sorry, I'm a bit frazzled at the moment."

"Then I suppose a good night's sleep is in order, Mr. Potter," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I find that's always the best route when one is looking to be defrazzled. And with that, I bid you farewell and good fortune." He went back to looking down at his papers, not even glancing up when Albus tripped over a copy of Sorcering, Swimming and Stargazing on his way out.

Sleep really did sound good, he mused as he walked through the school halls, but he had business to take care of first. He hoped... He wasn't sure how to address her, even in his head - Lily? Grandma? - Neither sounded right. Well, putting the matter of her name aside for now; he hoped he could catch her before she left the library. Meanwhile, he could plan exactly what to tell her as he walked there.

One thing was for sure: There was no way he could skip over his relation to Ja- his grandfather. If she really was as clever as he'd been told, she would put the pieces together fairly quickly. He'd just try to avoid looking her in the eye, and hope she doesn't notice their color. Finding out that she is fated to reproduce with the man she hates; well, he wouldn't be surprised if she avoided him for the rest of her life, and thus wiped Albus out of existence.

He groaned and put his head in his hands. This whole thing was giving him a headache. "Maybe I should just go back and tell Dumbledore I changed my mind," he muttered. "Obliviating her is starting to sound like the least stressful solution."

"Al?"

He lifted his head to see Li - You know what, he was just going to call her Evans - standing in front of him. "Obliviate?" she repeated, watching him with amusement. "Planning on erasing someone's memories?"

"No - Yes - Maybe. I don't know," he stammered out. He glanced around helplessly. "Would you mind coming with me real quick?"

She took a step back, giving him a dubious look. "Wait. You're not going to Obliviate me, are you?"

"I'm only a second year. I don't even know that spell," he said truthfully.

"Then why were you talking about Obliviating somebody?" she demanded.

Albus furrowed his eyebrows, the way he did when he was trying to gather his thoughts. ". . . It was only a joke," he claimed lamely.

Evans crossed her arms. "Sure didn't sound like a joke to me."

"Listen, can you just come with me?" he pleaded. "I promise I'll never ask anything of you ever again."

"I'm not going anywhere until you explain to me what's going on," she insisted with stubborn determination. Her eyes were narrowed, the way his little sister's eyes got when she refused to back down about something or other. Albus felt a sudden surge of homesickness, along with the realization that if this thing doesn't get figured out, he might never see his family again - or at least not for a few decades.

All he wanted to do was crawl into a corner and shun the world. But he couldn't do that, not with Evans staring him down. He took a deep breath and forced himself to think rationally for a second.

Another ally could be useful right now, he determined. And if push came to shove, he could always ask Dumbledore to get rid of her memories after he left. No big deal.

. . . Who was he kidding. By telling this to Evans, he was risking her maybe telling others behind his back, or writing it down somewhere, or even possibly subconsciously experiencing impacts of this revelation, even after being obliviated. If this turned out to be a big mistake, he might never be born. But his emotional state was a wreck and all he really wanted was some sleep. He wasn't in the mood to be cautious.

". . . Alright," he said eventually. "But not here. Somewhere else, with less chance of running into anyone."

"Fine," Evans conceded. "I'll choose the spot. Follow me."

She led him to a portrait of a basket of fruit, which Albus immediately recognized as the entrance to the kitchens. James had dragged him there countless times, much to his annoyance. He had to admit it was a good idea - the house elves wouldn't listen in on them as long as they told them not to, and the location to the kitchens wasn't exactly common knowledge. At least, not in his time. He was hoping it was the same here.

"I found this place last year," Evans told him as she tickled the pear. "Somebody... Well, they showed it to me. It's a good place when the library is crowded and I want to get some studying done, or if I'm just feeling a bit peckish."

He followed her through the portrait and into the kitchens, where they were immediately confronted by a small elf. "Hello, Miss Evans and Mister Potter!" it said cheerfully. "What can Dandy do for you?"

Evans shook her head. "Oh, no, Dandy. This isn't Potter. His name's Al," she explained. Albus blinked, having not even noticed that the elf had called him 'Mister Potter'.

Dandy looked horrified. "Oh, no! Dandy is terribly sorry!" It turned to him, its wide eyes brimming with tears. "Dandy will never make such a horrible mistake again!"

Albus waved his hands in an attempt to calm the house elf down. "Oh. . . No, s'alright," he said. "I don't mind, really."

It immediately broke into tears. "You is too kind, sir! Dandy does not-"

"Dandy," Evans interrupted, "Do you think you could go get us some muffins and pumpkin juice? And after that, we could use a little privacy." She sent Albus a sideways glance. "We've got some things to discuss."

"Of course! Dandy will go get it," it said, and scurried off.

Evans led Albus to a small table, where they sat down and waited for their food. They spent about a minute sitting in silence. He began to feel unbearably awkward, and tried to think of something, anything to say. So, how about those Cannons? Did you finish your essay? I was wondering, have you ever thought about marrying James Potter?

Dandy arrived with the food before he had the opportunity to say any of these things, which was probably for the best. As soon as the elf was gone, Evans' eyes shot in Albus' direction. He grabbed a muffin and shoved it in his mouth to try and calm his nerves.

"So. . ." she said. "Mind telling me just what exactly is going on?" She frowned. "It doesn't have anything to do with this time travel business, does it?"

Albus decided to just jump straight into it. He swallowed his food. "Actually, it has everything to do with it," he said. "Turns out I'm not just six months in the past - it's more like 45 years in the past."

Evans' mouth opened for a few seconds. "Oh." She licked her lips. "Oh. That's. . ."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Exactly."

"But how is that possible?" she exclaimed, her brows furrowed in bafflement. "45 years? That's just, I don't know. How is that even possible?"

"I'm not quite sure. And as curious as I might have been under other circumstances, right now I frankly don't care. Unless it can help me get back." He looked down. "All my family, my friends, the vast majority of them don't exist yet, and the ones who do don't know I exist." His voice cracked, and he coughed to cover it up. "It's really not an ideal situation to find oneself in."

Evans' eyes were filled with something akin to pity, which annoyed him, and she made a move to comfort him. He pulled away. "Don't," he said. "I'll. . . I'll be fine. I just need some time to collect myself. And Dumbledore's currently trying to figure out a way to get me back. I'll be alright."

Evans looked doubtful, but she pulled her hand away. "I had some questions, but they can wait until tomorrow if you're not feeling up to it right now."

He scowled. "It's fine. I'm not some little kid who needs to be treated like a glass doll. I'm twelve years old."

A smile snuck its way onto Evans' face. "If you say so," she said. "What year are you from?"

"2020," he answered. "Do you mind if I ask you some questions as well?" He didn't wait for a response. "What year are you in?"

"I'm currently in my fourth year," she told him. She paused. "Um, if this isn't the case I'm going to feel really stupid for asking this, but I've really got to know. You wouldn't happen to be. . . uh, related to James Potter, would you?" She cringed slightly when he didn't respond right away, and quickly fought to justify herself. "It's just, you look a lot like him, so I thought - maybe it's just the glasses, and that's what made me think that. On second thought, you really don't look that much like him. For one, the eye color is all wrong, and-"

"No, no, it's fine," Albus hurriedly interrupted. "You're right. He's, uh, my grandfather."

She peered at him dubiously. "Are you sure?" she said.

He drew back, staring at her in confusion. Out of all the reactions he had been expecting, that was not one of them. He wasn't sure whether he should be offended or not. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

Evans shrugged. "It's just, you don't act at all like him. That's a compliment, by the way. Er, not that I mean to badmouth your grandfather," she added. "I'm sure he's, uh, very nice to you. In the future." She was grimacing as if it pained her to say that. "This is too weird."

"Tell me about it," Albus agreed, searching desperately for any opportunity to change the topic. "Um, how about those Cannons?"

Evans gave him an odd look. "I'm not sure. I don't really follow Quiddich."

Albus inwardly cursed himself for asking such a stupid question. "Yeah, sorry, forget I said anything," he muttered, his face burning.

She smiled somewhat awkwardly. "Do you play?"

"Huh?" He blinked. "Uh, I mean, yeah. I was planning on trying out next year, actually."

"Not this year?"

"Nah." He shook his head. "The Ravenclaw team's got a seeker already, and she's pretty good. She graduates next year, though, so it's open season then. And I'd say I've got a pretty good chance. After all, I did learn from the best."

Evans raised an eyebrow. "'The best'?" she questioned.

"My dad." He felt a smile form on his face as he recalled their flying lessons. "He's really good - well, that's a bit of an understatement, he's brilliant. He could probably play professionally if he wanted. In fact, he was the first first-year on the Hogwarts team in a century! He still has his old Firebolt; it doesn't really work very well anymore, but he keeps it for sentimentality's sake. I tried riding it once, and I accidentally crashed through the window and broke my arm. Mom got really mad, and probably would have killed me if Dad hadn't calmed her down. I was lucky nothing happened to the broom other than a few scratches, though, because I doubt he would have held her back if anything had. Apparently his godfather- hey, do you know Sirius Black?"

Evans scowled. "Unfortunately," she muttered.

Albus blinked, not expecting such a strong reaction. He knew that Evans had hated James, but he didn't think that extended to the rest of the Marauders. "Uh, okay," he said, feeling slightly more awkward now. "Well, apparently it was a gift from him."

"Oh," Evans said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Albus' cheeks burning in humiliation. What had he thinking, babbling on like that? He had forgotten who exactly it was he was talking to. He resolved to never get pulled in like that again.

He stood up. "Uh, I should probably get going. Nearing curfew, and all that."

Evans laughed nervously. "Yeah. Good idea. See you, Al."

"Bye, Evans," he said.

She blinked. "Evans? No, you don't have to call me that. Call me Lily."

"I will," he lied. He began to leave.

"Hey, Al?" she said, and he turned around. "Meet me in the library tomorrow at 10:00 in the morning. It's a weekend, so we should be able to get a good amount of research done."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Research?"

Evans sent him a grin. "Yeah. You trusted me enough to tell me who you were, so I'm not going to let that trust go to waste. I won't let you regret sharing this with me. I'll help you figure this thing out, don't worry."

Albus stared at her.

She waved a hand to dismiss him. "You can go now," she said.

He found himself unable to help a smile as he left, a warm feeling bubbling in his chest.