Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.

NOTES: This story was written awhile ago, for fun for my friends, so it might not be the best. I hope it's good, though, and I hope you enjoy.

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Harry Potter stood in an empty classroom in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, hiding from the caretaker Filch. He and his best friend Ron Weasley, a tall red haired boy, had been looking for a specific book in the library but hadn't found it. Regardless, they had been out of their beds after hours, and if Filch caught them they'd get detention. But Harry had lost Ron as they were running, and had no clue where he might be. He didn't dare to go look.

The classroom was empty except for a few desks, some books lying on the floor, and a very old and ancient wardrobe with a cracked mirror on the door. Harry walked over to the books and picked one up; it was called "What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming". He frowned at it, put it down, and started walking towards the wardrobe.

Strangely enough, when Harry looked in the mirror he could see nothing except for what looked like fog. He reached out and grasped the handle of the wardrobe and opened it. Inside there was nothing, but Harry could see a faint light that seemed to be coming from the back wall. Cautiously, and out of curiosity, he stepped inside.

The wardrobe smelled like rotting wood, but Harry ignored the smell and kept walking towards the light, with a small thrill of foreboding. But he ignored those feelings and kept walking, determined to figure out what the source of the light was. As he got very close to the wardrobe's back wall, he suddenly felt as though something was pulling him, and everything went black.

Harry felt himself slam into a wall, and he groaned as pain shot up his back. Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he opened his eyes, with a thrill of excitement, expecting to find himself in a fascinating new place.

He was in a broom closet. Someone, or, from the sound of it, a few people, where yelling "James?! JAMES?!" Feeling annoyed, Harry stood up and reached towards the door, but before he touched the doorknob, it turned on its own, and the door swung open.

Three people, all of whom were vaguely familiar to Harry, were standing there. The one closest to him had black hair that fell into his grey eyes, in a handsome way, and was frowning slightly. Harry recognized him as a teenage Sirius Black, because he had seen him in Snape's pensieve (a device that stores memories) awhile ago, only this time he looked slightly taller. Behind him was a pale, tired looking boy with brown hair, who Harry also recognized from Snape's memory as Remus Lupin. The third boy was shorter than the others and stout, with light brown hair and small, watery eyes. He was Peter Pettigrew, the one who had betrayed Harry's parents.

Harry felt very shocked to see those three boys standing there for several reasons. One was that the last time Harry checked, Lupin and Peter were adults. And Sirius had been dead. Harry frowned at them, confused, "Er…"

"Where've you been Prongs? In that closet the whole time?" Sirius asked, also frowning. Harry remembered that "Prongs" was the nickname they had for James, and realized at the same time, with some panic rising in him, that they thought he was James.

"No," Harry began, "I-"

"What happened to your head?" Lupin asked suddenly. Harry's hand flew to his forehead, on which there was a lightning shaped scar from his encounter with Voldemort when he was just a baby.

"Er…."

"He probably hit his head with a broom," Sirius said impatiently. "Why were you in the closet? Is there…someone else in there?" He eyed the closet suspiciously.

"No," Harry said, feeling confused and annoyed, "No, I was just hiding from a…a teacher. I jinxed some first year…" He trailed off, still wondering why his father's friends were teenagers and talking to him.

"Did you?" Lupin asked. "But James, you're Head Boy! You can't be breaking the rules like that. Honestly! Come on, let's go to the common room." Harry, at a loss for words, followed the three others up to the Gryffindor tower. They were talking, but Harry wasn't listening. He was wondering how he'd gotten to the past in the first place, how he'd ended up in his father's seventh year of Hogwarts. Was James here too? Or had Harry completely taken his place. Lost in thought, he followed the others through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.

Harry headed straight for an armchair by the fire, sinking into it and hoping to think some more. But Peter drew attention to him by saying "James, you're being quieter than usual. What's wrong? Is it Lily Evans? Because she's been a pain lately…" Harry gave Peter a dirty look, which shut him up.

"Lily hasn't talked to me today," Harry said, not knowing if this was actually true. He looked up, and saw the other three exchanging a look.

"She likes you," Sirius said, grinning slightly.

"How do you know?" Harry asked, curious.

"Because she's stopped yelling at you so much, she blushes whenever you mention going out, and have you seen her during lessons? She just stares at you! She's in denial…"

"You just need to…get to know her a little more. Then ask her out," Lupin suggested. Quite suddenly, Harry felt a feeling of panic rise within him. They thought he was James, so of course they expected him to be crazy about Lily. But Harry was Lily's son, and if he went out with her…Now he was desperate to find a way back to his own time, and find Ron so they could laugh about this crazy mix up.

"I thought Lily hated me," Harry told them, half hoping it was true just so he wouldn't end up in a relationship with his mom. The other half, however, was hoping she didn't, because Harry knew that, if it wasn't for his parents, he wouldn't be born.

"That's her cover," Sirius said, looking at the steps leading up to the Girl's Dormitories. "And don't say it's ridiculous, Remus, you know its true." Lupin merely shrugged, and turned to look at the fireplace.

"Why do you think it's ridiculous, er…Remus?" Harry hadn't ever called Lupin by his first name, so it felt awkward.

"Well, Lily hates it when you jinx people in the corridors, or when you assume you know everything, and even though you've been better about it, it'll take her awhile to get over it. Padfoot's probably wrong; it's not her cover. She just needs time James, not a cover."

"Because Moony knows all about girls…" Sirius muttered, sounding annoyed.

"I do," said Lupin, grinning mischievously now. Harry and Peter looked at him, surprised, and Sirius rolled his eyes. "Right, sure you do," he said. Peter laughed.

"Well, I should…go to bed. It's been a long day," Harry said. They looked at him, surprised, but Harry parried off their comments by turning around quickly and heading up the stairs to the Boy's Dormitory. It was only when he got into the room did he realize that he had no clue where James' (now his) bed was, and there were six in the room.

Cursing whatever had sent him back in time (It was the wardrobe, Harry thought), he walked towards the first bed, which had a trunk at the end of it, as did the others. Harry opened the first trunk and sifted through a pile of school robes. Picking up a book, he opened the cover and read the name written inside it: Frank Longbottom. He moved on.

After going through the trunks of Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, Harry found James' bed, which was closest to a window. He found nightclothes in James' trunk, put them on, crawled into bed, and closed the curtains for privacy. He lay there thinking about what had happened for a long time. Occasionally, he heard someone, or a few people, come up to sleep. It was not until 1 o'clock in the morning that Harry finally fell asleep.