(A/N) This is a male/male relationship fic. If you have a problem with this, please do not read the story as it may offend you. Otherwise, enjoy. Please note that this story has been posted on other fan fiction websites under the same pen name.

Synopsis:

Harry Potter knew the problems of time travel - that altering the past can have grave consequences - so he'd never thought to go back to change things. Fate had other ideas.

Note:

Intended to be completely compatible with the entire Harry Potter book series. Keep in mind that, though I am rereading the books as I write this, it's possible that I may mess something up along the way. If you find something that contradicts actual events as DESCRIBED in the books (this story covers events not described), please let me know so I can go back and fix it.

Warnings:

Including, but not limited to: Snarry, foul language, violence, slash sex, total screwing with the events of all seven of the HP books (while remaining "true" to cannon). Other warnings will be added as necessary.

Disclaimer:

The Harry Potter series is copyright of J.K. Rowling and various companies, not me. I just a have a lot of fun messing around with the universe for entertainment purposes; I make no profit from this.

A Stitch in Time

By O.A.I.

Edited by…

Chapter 1: Knick Knacks are Dangerous Things

Harry Potter looked out the tower window and sighed. Everything seemed to be going wrong of late. Problems had been arising at the office for the past month now. Every day it seemed he had a new crisis to deal with. A few young nitwits fancying themselves dark wizards had been stirring up trouble. Frankly, Harry was tired of it. He wanted to go out and find these idiots himself rather than leave it to his somewhat ineffectual teams of Aurors. Unfortunately, running the department meant he couldn't, and instead was saddled with loads of paperwork. Harry had been sleeping at the office for weeks; Ginny was not pleased.

Ginny hadn't actually been pleased for a while, and this situation was only making things worse; they hadn't been getting along lately. Compounding the problem was James, their eldest son, who had been getting into trouble again, and again, all term – getting into fights, casting curses, cheating on his schoolwork, taunting first years, exploding toilets, and the list went on. Harry was starting to regret naming the boy after his father and god father. Added to the problem was the fact that Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, was just about at the end her rope with James' behavior as well. In fact, that was why Harry was here in Dumbledore's old office, now Minerva's, - he's been summoned to address the situation.

He sighed again checking his watch, it was five past ten. Clearly Minerva was having some difficulties; she detested being late for anything. So, Harry decided to take his mind of the problem for the moment and chose to amuse himself. He looked at the odd collections of things about the room.

The office hadn't changed much, near as he could tell, from the way Dumbledore had kept it. The walls were still covered in books and the portraits of old head masters – all of whom were either absent or asleep. The curious silver instruments were still around, though not in operation; he'd always wondered what they were. Attempting to satisfy his curiosity, he'd moved over to the single low table the objects all sat on. They all seemed so delicate, and he didn't want to break them, so he kept his hands to himself; till he saw the strange stone cylinder on the dusty bookshelf behind the table.

He reached out lightly touching the unusual runes ringed around the object – it hummed with magic. He picked it up, his hand fitting perfectly around it, nestling comfortably between the two slightly larger ends. It seemed odd, but strangely he felt as though it somehow belonged to him. Opening his hand he examined the runes more closely, but they looked nothing like any he'd ever seen before. He ran his thumb over the strange star shaped numb on the one end.

He wasn't sure why, but he was reluctant to let go of the cylinder, however he heard someone coming up the stairs just then, speaking indistinctly and irately. He halfheartedly moved to put the object back on the shelf, when he noticed the picture that had been sitting behind the cylinder.

He was in the photograph, with all of the Hogwarts teachers – Dumbledore and Snape included - but that wasn't the thing that had caught his attention, it was the fact that he was as he is now – all long curly haired, scare-faced, adult, five foot eleven of him. Not only that, but he's grinning at the camera with his arm draped casually over Snape's shoulder, while the smoky writing hanging in the air declares "1990-1991".

"Oh, hell!" He exclaimed, his hand contracting over the cylinder, and inadvertently pressing the star shaped numb. A light engulfed him and he disappeared.

Harry felt his feet hit after a moment of weightlessness, and he opened his eyes to find he is precisely where he had been standing a moment ago, except, there is no picture on the shelf, the books are distinctly less dusty, and the stone cylinder isn't in his hand.

"Ah, you must be Parry Hartwell." Said a sage old voice from behind Harry, "I must say, I am rather impressed; few people can simply appear in my office." Harry turned, that voice sounded awfully familiar, but it wasn't possible. "I, as I am sure you realize, am Headmaster Albus Dumbledore." It was Dumbledore, there was no mistaking him. "And you, are now Hogwarts' newest Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor." The old Headmaster smiled, his eyes twinkling merrily. "Assuming, of course, that you still want the job?"

(To be continued)

(A/N) This is in answer to aliciamasters' "Deathly Hallows Cannon Challenge" posted on Walking the Plank: Port of the Snape-Harry Ship. I really want to write this and will endeavor to update regularly; no promises though.

I could also use the talents of a beta reader, if someone would like to volunteer.