I am doing the cliché time travel HP fic! I am well and open to constructive criticism, but if it's about minute canon details, I don't really care, sorry, and I'll hope you see they don't really matter in the end.

The Timeless in You Is Aware

Chapter One – A Way to Get Out of Detention

Tonks's feet shook from behind the tapestry. She ran her wand along the brick wall, desperately looking for the secret entrance she knew was there. "C'mon," she muttered.

"Professor Turpin," she heard McGonagall's stern voice drift down the hallway. "You haven't happened to have run into Miss Tonks, have you?"

"Minerva," Professor Turpin answered in her soft lilt, "don't you think if I ran into Tonks I'd have a few more bruises to show for it?"

To Tonks's chagrin, the two professors chuckled. Ruddy bastards, she thought. Now where is that goddamn passage?!

Despite her cursing, no such door appeared. The footsteps were getting closer. All McGonagall had to do was fetch Filch and that goddamn cat, and she knew she would be in trouble for sure. Cats were stupid, all-knowing creatures, and they had stupid abilities to sniff out students. Tonks wondered, briefly, why McGonagall didn't do her rounds as a cat. Or teach all the stupid Prefects to do the same. That would just be bloody brilliant, wouldn't it? Cats everywhere, every Hogwarts hallway plagued with play mice and kitty litter and beady yellow eyes, desperate to give sneaky first years detention.

Well, Tonks wasn't a stupid first year at all – she was a fourth year – and that meant that, as a true and noble troublemaker, she should be able to get herself out of such a sticky situation. But how to do so… That was the question. Morph into Head Girl Anita Johnson and pretend like she had just been doing patrols? Morph into studious Elliott Brown and pretend she was on her way to the library? All seemed good and well, but far too simple.

All because of a well-timed curse on a stupid git. Really, McGonagall should be thanking her. Give her the honour of Merlin, for crying out loud! She had stopped that stupid Slytherin from making her friend Cynthia cry.

"Tonks, come out from where you're hiding. I've got eyes everywhere, so any student who appears out of nowhere is going to get my wrath. You're not shifting out of this!"

Tonks grumbled to herself. Plan A was good and done. But a thought briefly drifted through her head, a dangerous thought. She had been practicing something all summer long, though she had never quite got the hang of it.

Apparation.

Could you apparate inside of Hogwarts? For Merlin's sake, she knew Cynthia had mentioned it a hundred times, but she honestly couldn't remember. Had she said yes, or no? It was one of the two, Tonks was sure of that.

And true, maybe the last time she had tried her arm had ended up on her forehead, but that was an easy enough fix, even if a bit painful.

No bother, she decided.

It was worth a shot at least. Those cursed footsteps were drawing closer.

"Miss Tonks," McGonagall finally said. "I can see your boots underneath the tapestry. Come out of there, this instant!"

Tonks closed her eyes and imagined the Hufflepuff common room. Everything began to swirl. She felt dizzy, like she was taking a portkey, and when everything finally stopped moving, she swayed a bit before promptly falling on her ass. She begin to inspect herself. Everything seemed to be in place.

"Who are you?!" she heard a voice behind her cry out. She turned and noticed the familiar portrait of Demeter Derwent, placed carefully over the Hufflepuff fireplace.

"Oh, don't act like you don't know me!" Tonks grinned. It had worked! She had really done it. What a genuis she was!

"I'm sorry, dear, I'm afraid you gave me quite a fright," the portrait smiled. "Did you hit your head? Perhaps I should fetch someone."

Tonks was about to scream, No, don't! but then a thought occurred to her. Derwent would most likely fetch Madam Pomfrey, who she could no doubt manipulate into giving her the perfect alibi (Pomfrey could be quite protective of her students sometimes). Tonks had skirted through most of the year – well, really, these past few weeks of school – with only having to do lines once, and she wanted to keep up her hot streak.

Even if she had decided to object, it was pointless because Derwent was good and gone in an instant. "Ahhh," she exhaled, plopping herself into one of the many Hufflepuff beanbag chairs (the bright orange, her favorite), crossing her legs and sprawling them across the table in front of her. She truly was a genuis sometimes.

"Hello," a distinct, male voice said as the common room door opened. Tonks made to stand up, but in her excitement just ended up falling onto her hands, the stupid beanbag coming along with her. She jumped up quickly.

"Professor Dumbledore!" she said. "What are you doing here?"

The good ol' headmaster stood before her in his bright blue robes, staring her down with a unique expression that seemed neither angry nor pleased.

"I should think the answer is obvious," he said after a rather uncomfortable silence. "I work here. Now as for you… Perhaps it would be better if we were to discuss this matter in my office."

He turned to the portrait. "Thank you, Demeter."

The pretty blonde woman was back in her place, hands running through her flowing locks. "Yes, you're quite welcome, Albus."

Tonks didn't quite know what to say. Had setting a pimple curse on someone truly been as awful as meriting a visit from the Headmaster? She followed him blindly into the hallway, her feet moving, seemingly, of their own accord. It wasn't until she realized that there was no sound around them that things seemed strange.

Shouldn't the other students be rushing to classes, or snogging in the alcoves, or tripping each other up in the corridors? No, there was nothing here – the school was so empty that their footsteps seemed to echo. She saw the Fat Friar lingering next to a bannister, but she stopped herself before waving at him stupidly. He was smiling at her, though hesitantly. It was not the warm, broad grin she was accustomed to, and it made her stomach turn to knots. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What had she done? Did she… did she kill herself?

"Smarties," Dumbledore said, and a door opened before them. Dumbledore stepped back. "After you," he said with a curt nod and Tonks returned it, not quite sure what it all meant.

She had never been inside the headmaster's office before, and she was blown away by everything around her. Magical instruments she had never seen before adorned bookcases stacked to the brim. A wall a potraits stood behind an ornate desk, each frame empty, as if Dumbledore – or maybe Demeter – had shooed them away.

"Please, take a seat," Dumbledore said, his voice sounding more amiable.

Tonks sat across from the desk and felt her leg start to twitch. Just to think she had done all this in order to get out of doing lines!

"I'm sorry, Professor," her mouth started without her brain, "I don't know what I did, exactly, but it's obvious that I mucked something up. If you want to give me detention that's fine, but I do ask that you please, please do not expel me, because even if I did send all the other students to an alternate dimension or something, I'm sure you can get them back!"

The Professor Dumbledore she knew would've laughed at this, but instead his eyes just continued to examine her from above the glasses perched on his nose. He was taking in many things about her, she noticed: her bright pink, spiky hair; her choice of muggle clothing (plaid skirt, fishnets under leg warmers) underneath her robe; the traditional Hufflepuff colors on said robe. But he never once looked directly into her eyes.

"The most obvious explanation," he said at last, "is that you are a student at this school."

"Of course, Professor!" Tonks started, "You know me, I'm –"

"But there are other possibilities, as well," Dumbledore continued like she hadn't spoke at all. "Possibilities that I would be remiss to not look into."

He waved his hand and a large silver bowl appeared on his desk. "Would you like a lemon drop?" he asked conversationally, a few pieces of yellow candy suddenly appearing in his hand. Since this was the closest he had come to sounding like the headmaster she knew, Tonks grinned.

"Of course, Professor."

She took the candy and sucked on it carefully, deciding she didn't care much for the way it burnt the top of her mouth.

"If my suspicions are correct," Dumbledore said around the two sour beasts he had popped into his own mouth, "you are not quite where you're supposed to be. If that is the case, it is best that we not dwell on your memories too much. I may see fit to…well, no bother." He shook his head. It was not like Dumbledore to act so guarded, and Tonks gave him a confused look. He continued, "Given the current cultural climate as it stands, I must proceed with the utmost caution."

Tonks had begun to chew on her candy, deciding she did not like the way it stuck to her teeth. "I'm not sure I follow, Professor," she said.

"I do not ask much of you, but someone I do not know merely appearing in my castle must provide me with some proof of their identity."

Tonks blinked in rapid succession, not quite sure what to say. "Someone you don't know?! But professor…"

"Please." He held up his hand. "Do not tell me anything else." He sounded harsh. "I have had many mishaps with students before, but nothing this… extreme. It is a matter that must be handled carefully. Do not tell me your name. Do not tell me what year you were born. Instead, I simply ask for three things."

What year I was born?

"Okay, Professor," Tonks said.

"There is a simple way of extracting memories from one's own brain. Will you do the motion with me?" Dumbledore picked up his wand as if to demonstrate. Tonks followed suit.

It was a flick of the wrist against one's forehead that was not unlike the turn necessary to perform an unlocking charm, and after several tries, Dumbledore seemed satisfied with Tonks's ability.

"Okay," he said simply. "The first thing I ask you to remember is the very first time you saw Hogwarts. Remember to do the motion as I showed you."

Tonks remembered. The boats. The castle. The lights. The stars. The tense feeling in her stomach.

A small strand, like a piece of gray hair, had attached itself to her wand.

"Good," Dumbledore said. "Put it in this bowl."

Tonks put her wand over the silver bowl he'd conjured, surprised by the way the strand simply fell in.

"Now remember when the sorting hat was put onto your head – after your name."

Tonks nodded and did the same as before.

"Finally, remember your first Transfiguration lesson."

That was an easy one, Tonks thought. McGonagall, catwoman that she was.

"There!" Dumbledore was truly smiling now. "I shall investigate these later, but I have no doubt of their authenticity."

"How can you be so sure, Professor?" Tonks asked, once again without thinking. This time the Headmaster did meet her eyes, though he looked more curious than not. "You seemed pretty suspicious of me before," she went on, feeling nervous.

"Ah!" The old man clapped his hands together and grinned. "I was merely exercising the appropriate amount of caution needed in such a situation. I feel now it is prudent to tell you that it is September of 1975 and the students shall be arriving in two days time."

'75… 12 years ago…

If he noticed the way she gaped at him, Dumbledore didn't seem to mind. "We will prepare you – we will give you the current Hufflepuff robes; that will be a good house for you, anyway, as they will be friendly but not too demanding of your personal details. We will give some more plain clothes to wear, as you need not stand out too much. And I will personally perform glamour charms to make you look less –" Here he motioned to her hair. "…Conspicious."

"No need, Professor," Tonks said, "if you want me to plain Jane it, so be it." Tonks closed her eyes, and, with a sigh, thought of her boring old face. The boring, long brown hair. The thick, dark eyebrows. The nose that was wider and larger than she preferred to wear. When she opened her eyes – now just brown, without the flecks of gold she liked to put in – her headmaster didn't look happy.

"You're a Metamorphagus," Dumbledore said flatly. "That was something I needn't to know."

"But you would've found out anyway when your stupid glamour charms didn't work," Tonks said pointedly, feeling a flush of anger at her old Headmaster. She quickly shut her mouth, realizing she had called the magic of the most brilliant wizard of all time "stupid."

He smiled. "Yes, I suppose you're right. But you must keep that detail to yourself. Along with the fact that you're from the future."

"You gathered that just from talking to me?" Tonks asked. "Is it… Are you putting me on? How the hell did I wind up here? How are you acting so calmly – I've got friends and family, you know. They'll notice if I'm missing. And this is just… I know wizards can't travel back and forth like this. I must've done something wickedly dumb to wind up here. And you're just acting like this is a normal, everyday thing."

"This is not a normal, everyday thing. That is why I must insist that you do everything in your ability to keep yourself invisible. Keep quiet during lectures. Keep quiet during meals. Act as normally as possible without causing anything of a stir. I gathered you were from the future based solely on the fact that I did not remember you from anything in my past, and your clothes, while somewhat fashionable in this time, still seemed a bit removed from what I usually see my students wearing.

"So yes, either you were from the future, or there was a less savoury alternative. I hoped it was the former, and I daresay I hope you don't prove me wrong.

"As far as your friends and family, I will research relentlessly to make sure that when you arrive back, no one will have noticed a thing. But the show you've put on in here today… This attitude. It simply cannot go on. If you want your friends and family to be exactly where you left them, I reiterate this piece of advice: Stay quiet. Also, have a gummy worm." The professor held out a dish to the shell-shocked teenager. "I find the red ones to be delicious."

Tonks, not in the mood for sweets anymore, but not wanting to feel rude, took a red worm and began chewing on the rubbery thing obediently.

"Good. Now what year did you say you're in?"

"Fourth, sir."

"Good," he repeated. "You seem bright, so I'm sure you'll keep up in your studies, even if your curriculum is somewhat different. I just simply ask you don't speak much in class; no one in Hufflepuff should press you. If there are any problems with the Slytherin students, let a professor handle it."

Tonks's eyelids suddenly began to feel heavy.

"And I ask you one last thing, before you leave here today."

Tonks yawned. "Yes, Professor?"

"Do not attempt to recreate how you got here. It was obviously a fluke, so I don't hope you would be foolish enough to hope it would work in reverse."

Tonks thought she mumbled an agreement, but she couldn't remember. Dumbledore continued to speak, but everything grew hazy.

When Tonks opened her eyes, she was on a bed. It was most certainly in the Hufflepuff girls' dormitory, although the bunk beds seemed different than what she was used to. There was a note on the pillow next to her, which was a stupid place to put a note, she thought, as she was likely to drool all over it.

Dear Miss Brunhilda Bathswitch,

It is my pleasure to invite you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is wonderful to have a student from the Salem Institute join us, and I am happy to hear your father finally returned to London, as I have missed sharing a pint with him.

I know you are quite shy and modest, but do not feel afraid to make friends while you are here. If you see someone who reminds you of home, it may be best to stay clear of them, because we know how messy one's memories can get.

I have had your luggage delivered and it should be at the end of your bed. I have supplied you with all the needed things for your fourth year. Keep your chin up (and the same size!) and I am sure we will have a wonderful school year.

I would hate to have to expel you.

Sincerely,
A. Dumbledore

P.S. This note will soon disintegrate, so remember all it says.