Well...hi This is my first HPstory, and also my first english story...wish me luck.

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

"Er…..professor?"

It was a beautiful Friday evening, nearing the middle of June. The sun was starting to set to the left of the ancient castle and the last rays of sunlight made their way through the window of the office on the fourth floor. It twirled in colours of orange, red, yellow and purple through the clouds, casting fading shadows on the trees, animals, and the few remaining students in the school yards. Birds flew through treetops and a giant Squid was lying lazily on the east lake bank. It was nearly time for supper and the delicious scents could already be smelled if you happened to pass the kitchens. It truly was a wonderful evening. But for the black-haired teen sitting in front of an elderly man all of this was invisible. He just simply stared at the man in front of him, who was doing nothing more than stare at him with a twinkle in his eyes. The boy couldn't have been a day over seventeen, eighteen, but looked his age and much more. His once sparkling green eyes stood dull and his jaw was set firmly. His unruly black hair sprang around his head in an attractive manner although the boy took no notice of it, he just hated the fact he couldn't get it to stay flat. The boy had a pair of modern glasses on his nose, having replaced his old round ones during the summer. He was muscularly built from playing Quidditch and working in the summer. He wasn't extremely tall for a man, but thankfully not short either, for he stood at a nice 5 ft. 9. He truly was nice to look at, even if he did have that lightning bolt-shaped shaped scar on his forehead. He radiated some kind of sadness and suppressed anger, even if he seemed serene and clearly dumbfounded at the time being. It was clear he hadn't had the easiest life so far. He was also the one that had spoken not to long ago and the elderly wizard raised an eyebrow, eyes still twinkling.

"Yes Harry?," the man asked, looking at the teen in front of him, blue eyes seemingly staring directly into the boys soul over the half-moon spectacles balancing at the bridge of his nose. The teen , Harry, shifted a little in his seat and had his eyes cast down, obviously trying to form a question and trying not to sound rude at the same time. He seemed to be having a hard time doing so, so he just lifted his eyes, staring right back into those bright blue eyes of his Headmaster.

"Forgive me for asking this sir, but….have you hit your head on the sink this morning?"

The old man blinked once, blinked twice, and chuckled. He had had that comment coming, he supposed. He was asking something very big from the boy, indeed. In an overstuffed armchair in front of his desk sat the Saviour of the Wizarding World, the Golden Boy, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Man-Who-Conquered, or whatever it was they were calling him these days. In front of him sat the young man who had seen more than someone thrice his age. Someone who had seen and lost it all. The boy who destroyed the Dark Lord once and for all, not even two months ago. The one that came out of battle wounded but victorious. The wounds on the outside had healed like they should've, only leaving a few scars. Not that the boy cared about scars. He had plenty of those, after all. It were the wounds on the inside that were yet to be healed. To destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named the teen had had to lie, deceive, wound others, loose people he cared about like Colin Creevey, Tonks and Cho Chang, and had eventually have to kill more than once. He had been through hell and back again and was still recovering. And now his own headmaster, Albus Dumbledore had dropped a bombshell on him. Not five minutes ago had the old man told the boy of a way to escape all the hectics that came with having saved the Wizarding World and everything and everyone in it. It was all over the Daily Prophet of course, the poor boy was barely left alone for two seconds a day. His friends were there for him of course, but they didn't really understand what he was going through even though they had fought right next to him every step of the way, save the last one. He had left them there to make the last step by himself, the way it had been foretold, the way it had to be. The boy had known he would have to be the one to conquer Voldemort all along and he had done it. He was even more famous now, had girls following him around everywhere he went, was finally free from what had haunted him ever since he had first came to Hogwarts, but Dumbledore knew he wasn't happy. Harry had come out of battle emotionally scarred, a changed man. For that was what he was, a man. He couldn't be called a boy anymore, not after what he had been trough. Dumbledore had thought about this for a while and had then come to the realisation that he knew exactly what to do about it, since he had already done it. Yes, that sounded awfully weird, but it was the truth. He had made his proposition to young mr. Potter here and now the boy was staring at him as if he had flowers growing out of his nose.

"I can assure you that I did no such thing Harry," the man smiled, "I've been thinking of this ever since you came out of the battle a winner," at this the boy shrugged, turning a little pink, "and I'm convinced it's the best thing to do right now. You need a break dear boy, you need to get away from all the hectic that has been going on as of late. Do you disagree?"

Harry pondered this for a moment, even though the answer couldn't have been more obvious. He shook his head slightly, saying; "Actually sit, I couldn't agree more. I've going a little crazy with all these people gawking at me even more then they used to. But sir….are you sure it's the best way? It seems a little farfetched to me, if I have to be completely honest."

At this, the man smiled again.

"I appreciate your honesty Harry. I am however, fairly certain that this is the best and only way to escape it all at the moment, and if my memory serves correctly ( as it usually does, dear boy) you will agree on this, since you've done so before…"

Harry blinked, trying to grasp what the man was saying. Then it hit him. It was third year all over again, only this time he would have a legitimate reason to go back in time. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had just offered him a job at Hogwarts…in 1977. Harry couldn't deny wanting to escape all of the fuss that was going on at Hogwarts lately, but 1977 was a little bit…far away. Or was it far back? He didn't know, and frankly, he didn't really care. The man before him had offered him some time in the past to be free. Of course, he wouldn't be completely free since he would have to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts in an era in which Voldemort was gaining power, but it would be a perfect way to escape. There were however a few things that were bugging him. For one, it would be 1977 which would mean that his parents would be there. James an Lily, the people that had gave up their lives to save him, to make sure he would one day save the Wizarding World, to give him a chance to live. Sirius would be there too. The man who he had only known so briefly, but had grown to love over that short period of time. He knew that if he would go back in time that he couldn't change the course of history and that he would've no chance to restore what he had lost.

Another thing that was bugging him was that he would have to leave Ron and Hermione behind again. He still felt awful about leaving them in the midst of battle when he went of to finish off Voldemort. Sure, he had had a perfect reason to do so, but still. He made up his mind. He would go and prepare the students of Hogwarts of 1977 for the battle they had coming, he would say goodbye to his friends, would promise to find a way to stay in touch for the time he was there (how he didn't know) and would finally get the break he was dying to have for some seven years now. However, the look in the eyes of his headmaster bothered him. He spoke, ever so quietly:

"What's the catch, professor?"

"It's good to see you figured it out so soon Harry. You won't be going alone. There is another student in this school that will be joining you. He has already agreed to accompany you there and to share the teaching post. He was as caught up in the battle as you were, Harry. He has been forced to do things his whole life and broke loose from all that, becoming a spy for our side. He fought on our side, even though no one ever knew. He saved a whole lot of the seventh year students that remained at the school to fight that night and needs this break as much as you do."

Harry was starting to get a hunch as to who it was at this point. Everything Dumbledore was telling him could only make sense if it was about the boy, or rather, young man he thought it was. The boy that had made his school life nearly unbearable at some points but in a strange way had made him pull trough it all, knowing he could always count on the arguments the two of them would have whenever they would get the chance. He had seen him fight that night, silvery blond hair no longer gelled back, diving in front of curses, saving people, bringing them into safety, killing some if he didn't had another option and going unnoticed by most. He truly was a remarkable boy, Harry had pondered not that long before. He had managed to keep his mask in place, had infiltrated the army of Voldemort like he was always meant to be and had used it against the Dark Lord. And no one had known. Harry had realised at some points over the past few weeks that he had never really hated the boy but had merely had a strong dislike for him, something he would probably always have. He had still bantered with him over the past six weeks and he knew that it was something that had kept him going strong, something steady, never changing to cling onto, even if the Slytherin didn't know.

"Very well then," he started, "You may tell Malfoy that I will be going with him. Some time away will clear my mind."

The old man nodded, smiling. The boy stood up, nodding in the mans direction and walked out of the office with a strong pace. When he heard the door close the man let out a breath he never knew he had been holding. Things were going better as planned, he mused, anticipating the moment the two rivals would come face to face in his office. The man walked over to a closet and pulled out a pensieve, gazing into long forgotten and recently remembered memories of the class of 1977 and their two young teachers.

Oh, were they in for a bumpy ride, indeed…

Anyone willing to rate and revies, to tell me what you think? I won't complain