Author's Note: It's hard to believe I wrote this when I was just a high school kid. I've learned a lot since then-like writing in first person isn't my strong suit. It only took me a couple chapters to figure that out. I'm working on my first original novel. If anybody is interested in getting updates, follow me on twitter. AlinaJHensley I'd love some support and encouragement.

Chapter 1: The Hospital Wing

I woke up suddenly with a nagging suspicion I had forgotten something very important. Keeping my eyes closed and willing my head to stop throbbing I wondered when I hurt my head. Rubbing my face, I sat up and reached for my glasses. The moment they touched my face I realized something was wrong. I wasn't in my bed. I was in the hospital wing. The only problem was I had no idea how I got there. I thought back, remembering the previous night. The last thing I remembered was going to the library with Ron and Hermione. Even though it was only the first month of school Hermione was already studying for her N.E.W.T.'s and insists that Ron and I do the same.

Was I injured in the library? I doubt the Monster book of Monsters attacked me. Of course there is the obvious reason I would be in the hospital wing. Voldemort could have attacked me, but wouldn't I remember something if he had? Hadn't I already defeated Voldemort? If I was attacked Hermione and Ron must have been attacked too. A kind of panic took hold of me.

I began to frantically look around. The beds were arranged in a way that I had never seen before and they were all empty. That could mean anything, that they were okay or that they were... A gut clinching dread filled me. After Sirius's death I vowed I would never be the cause of another friend's death. But then where were Ron and Hermione, if they weren't hurt they would be here with me. I stood up and started searching around the room. I foolishly searched underneath beds, in cabnets, even a couple of draws. Subconsciously I noted the hospital wing was different from how it was the last time I was here. The beds had been rearranged and there were different portraits on the walls. I didn't stop to ponder why the hospital wing looked unusual.

"Hermione! Ron! Where are you?" I shouted desperately. I was on the verge of running out of the hospital wing to look for them when Professor Dumbledore walked into the room. I immediately started to calm. The familiar twinkle was sparkling beneath his moon shaped spectacles.

"Professor Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione they are alright, aren't they?" I said the panic evident in my voice. Dumbledore paused a moment before answering.

"Child, please sit down. I have a few questions for you. When Professor McGonagall-"

"What happened to Ron and Hermione? Just tell me the truth." My temper was beginning to flare. Why couldn't he just answer my question? Embarrassed I realized I was standing by an open cabinet I had been peering into in hopes of finding a trace of Ron or Hermione. I shut the door quickly. Dumbledore pretended not to notice.

"If you would kindly tell me who Ron and Hermione are I would be glad to help you find them, but first thing first. It might be, ah, beneficial to know who you are," Dumbledore replied peacefully, looking as if it was perfectly normal for a stranger in a hospital to yell at him.

"What!" Dumbledore must have finally lost his mind. "Er, I'm Harry, well, er, Professor Dumbledore are you alright?" I stammered out. It's finally happened, Dumbledore has gone crazy. Not normal Dumbledore crazy but actually crazy. It's not like somebody just forgets The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"Actually I am feeling quite superb today. I mean you can image the shock of finding a boy passed out in the library that nobody seems to know. Poor Professor McGonagall didn't quite know what to make of you. At first she thought you were Mr. Potter." My confusion just increased. "You probably don't know but Mr. Potter and his friends are quite the practically jokers. You wouldn't believe what they did last Monday. See they took some boomslang and—Are you alright?" he inquired as I started choking on my own tongue in shock.

"Er, you, you can't mean James Potter?" I sat down on a nearby bed. This can't be happening I thought. This has to be some kind of sick joke, but Dumbledore would never do that. He does have a strange sense of humor but this would be to much. How is this possible? Dumbledore's piercing gaze cut through me.

"You know of him? He does have quite the reputation," Dumbledore said with amusement his sharp gaze never leaving my face.

"But he can't be here, now, can he? I...I mean, not here!" I stuttered out realizing I sounded like Ron talking about Voldemort.

"Harry, of course James Potter is here at Hogwarts. It's his seventh year," he said.

"Its his seventh year. . .but that would mean. . . " I muttered to myself. "Er, I was just wondering, well, what year is it?"

"It's September 4, 1977 dear boy. That reminds me Madame Pomfrey told me to ask you some questions if you were to awaken while I was here. Do you know if you received a head injured? Who is the Minister of Magic? Do you have any known allergies? And of course how did you end up here?" he asked politely without pausing between questions to give me a chance to answer.

"Head injury—no clue, Minister of Magic—Cornelius Fudge, allergies nothing serious just sea food, and I'm not sure how I got here, professor. The last thing I remember was going to the library with Ron and Hermione, and, well this might sound crazy, but I'm from 1997." If Dumbledore thought this idea was strange nobody could tell. I suddenly noticed how young Dumbledore looked.

"Hmmm," Dumbledore began thoughtfully, "that would explain why you're about seventeen, carrying a wand, and as far as I know no one has ever seen you before. You're young enough to still be in wizardry school and you're obviously a wizard," Dumbledore mused. Dumbledore was about to continue when a young Madame Pomfrey walked into the room.

"Good you're awake I was worried you might not wake up until tomorrow." She paused a moment to make some motions with her wand. "Everything seems to be alright, you should eat this chocolate," Pomfrey handed me a great block of the stuff, and glared at me until I took a bite, "and get some sleep," she finished, giving Dumbledore a pointed look that clearly said 'you should leave' Dumbledore was, of course, oblivious to the glare. Harry began to eat his chocolate.

"Poppy, could you tell us what exactly is wrong with Harry?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Hmph, I'm not sure. It seems that he was knocked unconscious. There doesn't seem to be any permanent damage as far as I can see. That is all I can tell," Pomfrey admitted. "Unless you know what happened?"

"No, I don't remember anything about how I ended up here," Harry replied.

"At first I thought Minerva had brought in Mr. Potter, goodness knows he and his friends spend enough time in here...always causing problems. Are you related to Mr. Potter? You do look incredibly like him." This question confused Harry so he wisely choose not to answer.

"Poppy, if the child will be alright, would you mind if I speak with him alone?"

"Very well, it is your school," Pomfrey said giving Dumbledore a slight glare. She left the room and Dumbledore cast a silencing spell.

Suddenly I got an idea that might help get some explanations. "Professor Dumbledore, here, look at my wand," I said as I handed him my wand. "It contains the feather of a phoenix. Your phoenix to be exact."

"Hmmm... I asked Mr. Ollivander to contact me the moment this wand was sold. Eleven inches made out of holly. Good thing it's not made out of yew..." Dumbledore murmured. Dumbledore must have been thinking I was related to 'Him'. Maybe he still does; I do have the brother wand of Voldemort. Voldemort was definitely not what I want to think about because that always leads to... I groaned. Dumbledore must have noticed because he gave me an odd look.

"You don't remember how or why you were sent here, do you?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, professor, all I can remember is sitting in the library with my friends and the next thing I knew I was here," I replied.

"Well my child, time travel is a dangerous type of magic. I shall, of course, investigate how you were sent here and how to send you back to the future, assuming you would like to go back?" I nodded hesitantly. "In the meantime I would ask you not to tell anyone you are from the future. I will say that you have been home schooled and your parents decided to let you come to Hogwarts for your final year. You are in seventh year?" I nodded again. "Now to conceal your obvious relation to Mr. James Potter." Dumbledore clapped his hands twice and I felt as through a bucket of water was dumped over my head. Dumbledore must have put a glamour charm on me. Dumbledore handed me a mirror. My appearance was the same except my hair was dusty brown.

"If you would tell me what house you are in I will call down the Head Girl to show you to your dormitory," Dumbledore said.

"I'm in Gryffindor." I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I'm going to summon Lily Evans, she is the Head Girl this year, to take you up to the Gryffindor tower and show you your bed. It's rather late, so you should get some sleep. I'll need to talk to you more tomorrow, but Madame Pomfrey will have my head if I keep you up too much longer. Remember to stick to the home school story and, oh, I almost forgot, your new name is Harry Smith. We can't very well have two 'unrelated' Potters in the school. Come to my office tomorrow morning. I'll tell Lily to show you the way and the password is Mars Bars. Do you have any other questions right now? I'm sure your mind is brimming with curiosity."

I felt as through I had been punched in the stomach. My mum. She, Lily Potter, was the Head Girl. I would get to meet my mother. And my father. I would get to see Sirius again. I would be seeing my parents for the first time in sixteen year.

"How did you know I was related to James Potter?" I asked.

Dumbledore smiled, "You look extraordinarily like him, except for your eyes. Perhaps he is your father?" Dumbledore prompted gently.

"Er, yes, he is and Lily Evans is my mother," I answered.

"Interesting, it's not surprising they're going to have children. Remember you cannot tell your mother or your father who you are. You must not do anything to change the future. Is there anything else you would like to know before we talk tomorrow?" I shook my head no. I had about a hundred more questions but they could wait; I didn't want to wait any longer to see my mum. Dumbledore stuck his head into the fire and asked Lily to come down to the hospital wing.

"Madame Pomfrey wouldn't have left me in here alone with you if you were seriously injured, so I will let her know that I gave you permission to leave. I will tell Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey who you really are as they have both seen you without your disguise. I will inform the rest of the staff that you were home schooled. I will see you soon Mr. Smith."

I watched Dumbledore leave the room, my mind racing. Everything was a blur, I felt like I had just fought a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Any moment now I would be seeing my mother. The woman who had died for me, my mind thought angrily. Just like Sirius, and so many others. Died so that I could kill Voldemort. How was I going to look her in the eye knowing what I was going to do to her, to all of them? Guilt wracking my body I rubbed my temples...suddenly, I wasn't looking forward to seeing my mum at all.