Harry Prewett and the Case of Inadvertent Illegal Time Travel

Chapter One: The Office of Time Travel

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Author's Note: Welcome everyone to my domain! Just to let you know this is a Marauders Era Time Travel fic, I'll try not to be too cliche, that will eventually be containing Slash (M/M), violence, Character Death, sexual situations and possibly torture. M rated for a reason and particularly sensitive chapters will have additional warnings, readers you have been warned continue at your own peril! Reviews are always welcome and suggestions about plot and pairing will be taken into consideration. The more you talk the more likely I am to listen. For those of you waiting on updates for my other stories, I shrug, I've gotten the next chapter of Halved up and I have another chapter or so of this waiting in the wings but we're coming up on exams and I don't have enough chapter content for other updates, that being said if you want to send me a review with a list of all the reasons you want an update or a rant about how slow at updating I am I will be happy to read it! Without further ado...

When Harry woke up he was tied to a chair.

It wasn't a particularly comfortable chair either, wooden and straight backed and there were ropes digging into his wrists and ankles.

As soon as the fog cleared from his mind he began tugging at his bonds, squinting to try and make out his surroundings as he'd lost his glasses at some point.

"He's awake," grunted a raspy sounding female voice.

"Dose him," said a male with a velvety voice.

"He's not of age,"

"Doesn't matter, policy states..."

The female grunted.

Her features swam into focus as she approached him she was short with sharp features and a lot of bushy black hair, she was clearly a dwarf.

"Get away from me!" hissed Harry struggling.

The she-dwarf snorted grabbed his jaw in a vicelike grip and forced a single drop of a familiar potion onto his tongue. Almost immediately Harry began to feel lightheaded and more than a little tipsy, they hadn't given him a full dose then; otherwise he'd be beyond thinking.

"What is your first name?" asked the velvet voiced man.

"Harry," said Harry without really thinking about it.

"What year is it?"

"1995,"

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen,"

"Why are you here?"

Harry felt his features shift into a puzzled expression and he took a long moment to look at the blurry outline of a dark room.

"Dunno," he shrugged, "Can't see a damned thing. Where am I?"

"What is the last memory you have before waking up here?"

"I was trying to clear out," Harry paused, he didn't want to give away Sirius' name or the fact that he was involved in the Order, "My godfather's house,"

"Did you need to use time travel to do it?"

"No,"

"Have you ever travelled through time?"

"Yes,"

"When?"

"When I was thirteen,"

"Why?"

"To rescue a hippogriff and my godfather...he gets into trouble a lot," Harry felt he needed to explain.

"Hmmph," grunted the female.

"Do you have any plans to take over the world, cheat the stock market, or otherwise use time travel for your own gain?"

"No," said Harry shaking his head.

The muzzy feeling in his head was beginning to wear off and Harry found their questions more than a little odd.

"Can I have my glasses?" he asked.

"I'm afraid we don't know where they are,"

Harry frowned.

"Where am I?"

"Just one more quick test, Harry, and then we'll explain everything,"

Harry felt a light prick on his left middle finger and then the man moved off to the right and Harry heard the clinking and clanking of potions vials as well as the rustle of parchment.

"Nearest relative over the age of twenty five...Violet Cherie Potter nee Prewett, not surprising, you do have the Potter look about you, Harry,"

The odd fuzziness brought on by the Veritaserum was fading and Harry squinted at the man who was reading a bit of parchment and scribbling the occasional note on a second parchment.

"Grella, if you would please get this set up," he instructed the she-dwarf.

Grella scanned the parchment he handed her, grunted and presumably left the room because her footsteps faded to the point where Harry couldn't hear them anymore.

"Where am I? Who are you? What the bloody hell is going on?" Harry demanded straining at the ropes that bound him.

"Terribly sorry about the ropes Harry, it's standard procedure I'm afraid, you never can be too careful, "

Harry felt the ropes around his wrists and ankles slither away and he rubbed some feeling back into them watching the blur he thought was the man suspiciously.

"As to your questions, you are in the Department of Mysteries' Office of Time Travel, and I am the Time Traveler Relations and Dispersal Manager, Mr. Hotchkiss. We are terribly sorry about the Veritaserum and the bonds but you would not believe the amount of people who travel through time for personal gain. As it is we have ruled your incident of travel accidental and you will be allowed to rejoin the world once an appropriate alias has been constructed for you,"

"Can't you just send me back to when I came from?" asked Harry.

"Unfortunately no, just by arriving so far in the past you have split the timeline, either that or you were always meant to travel to this moment and your being here will facilitate events in the future, either way the future you know doesn't exist right now. Even if we could send you forward, which we can't, there's no guarantee you would even arrive in the proper dimension,"

"Ooookay then, er...when am I exactly?"

"The date today is Thursday July 6th 1975,"

Harry paled. He was stranded twenty years in the past.

"Now, now, no need to look quite so ill, we have measures in place for people like you,"

"What kind of measures?"

"Well, since you're underage we will contact your closest living relation over the age of twenty-five and place you in their care is they are amiable. We'll construct a feasible new identity for you and file the appropriate paperwork to make it legal, we will give you a small sum, I believe you are up for 200 Galleons, and pay for your Hogwarts tuition,"

"Er...wow, thanks I suppose," said Harry running a hand through his perpetually messy hair.

"Not at all, it's a rare treat not to have to toss you through the Veil,"

"Er...what Veil?"

"That I'm afraid is something I'm not allowed to speak about,"

Harry squirmed a bit in his seat, not sure if he wanted to know about the Veil or not. Luckily Mr. Hotchkiss didn't seem to notice his discomfort.

"Now while we are waiting for Grella, if you would be so kind as to answer a few questions so that I can start filing the paperwork and making the appropriate arrangements,"

"Sure," shrugged Harry.

"Feel free not to answer anything if you feel it will be damaging for the future, I quite understand," Mr. Hotchkiss added.

There was a rustle of paper as he prepared to take notes.

"Now Harry, I assume you were attending Hogwarts prior to your accident,"

"Yes, I was going into my fifth year,"

"In which house?"

"Gryffindor,"

"I see, bravery, an excellent quality to have in your situation. What was your date of birth?"

"July 31st,"

"So you will be turning fifteen in a few weeks?"

"No actually I just turned fifteen two weeks ago,"

"Alright, to keep continuity your new birth date will be June 22nd 1960,"

Harry nodded chewing on his lip.

"Are there any medical conditions we should be aware of?"

"Er...no I don't think so, just my eyes, I mean I've been injured loads but that isn't really a condition," Harry rambled though he privately thought Madam Pomfrey would disagree with that statement.

"Any interesting magical abilities?"

"I'm a parselmouth," Harry shrugged.

"Parselmouth, that is rare, I wasn't aware the Potters had the ability in their family,"

"It's from my Mum's side," Harry lied blandly.

"Hn, and what about your grades?"

"I'm passing everything but I'm pretty rubbish at Divination, History and Potions, I'm okay at Herbology and Astronomy, I'm pretty good in Charms, Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures, and I'm getting top marks in Defence,"

"Good, good, that should make for believable transcripts. Were you very involved in school clubs?"

"I was the Gryffindor Team seeker, and I was in duelling club in second year but then it was disbanded when the Defence professor ended up in St. Mungo's,"

"I see, that is certainly interesting. Now, what about your blood status?"

"I don't see how that's relevant," said Harry coolly.

"I know you may feel uncomfortable discussing it, especially considering the current political clime, but the Goblins and St. Mungos will know your blood status and we need to make a compatible identity," Mr. Hotchkiss said.

"My father was a pureblood, my mother a muggleborn witch,"

"There must be a squib or two in her ancestry if you got the parselmouth ability from her," he commented.

Harry shrugged, "I didn't know my parents, I was raised by my mum's sister and her husband,"

"My condolences,"

"Thanks,"

"It does however make a rather convenient back-story,"

Harry snorted.

"Happy to be of service,"

Either Mr. Hotchkiss did not hear him or he chose to ignore him in favour of the recently returned Grella because he made no comment.

"Ah, Grella, wonderful timing!" he exclaimed.

Grella grunted and handed Harry a pair of glasses with thin silver metal frames. Harry put them on and his world came slowly back into focus.

"Magical glasses, they automatically adjust to your prescription, very useful," Mr. Hotchkiss explained.

Harry took in his surroundings. They were vaguely familiar and Harry supposed he must have seen something similar in his one and only foray into the Ministry for that blasted trial. There was a workbench with a tall stack of parchment and a number of strange potions along one wall and Mr. Hotchkiss sat on a cushioned stool with his back facing the bench along the wall behind Harry there were several doors with labels like, Veil Room, Potion's Lab, Storage, Holding Cells, Mr. Hotchkiss' Office, Disguise Centre, Paperwork Room, Office for the Transfer of Funds, and more of the same.

Mr. Hotchkiss was a handsome man just past his prime with thick brown hair that was silvering at the temples, and was wearing a pair of sleek rectangular glasses similar to the ones Harry now sported, spotless black pinstriped robes and shiny dress shoes. His teeth were very white and straight and his eyes were bracketed by laugh lines.

Grella handed him an official looking form and Mr. Hotchkiss perused it for a moment.

"Excellent, it seems your finances are ready, 160 galleons after a deduction of 40 galleons as a fee for unplanned non-malicious time travel. Once we've filed the rest of your paperwork we'll set up a vault at Gringotts and deposit it there under your new name,"

"Alright," agreed Harry.

"Excellent! Now as for your new identity you will be Harry Prewett, your father was Gregorius Prewett and he married your mother Louise Williams, an American muggleborn witch, your father died in a Nundu attack in the Amazon and your mother in a potions accident when you were very young, you lived with your Aunt and Uncle, who didn't like you very much and moved to Surrey when you were five you attended the Penruffle School of Wizardry at age eleven and when your aunt died you were foisted on your Aunt Violet in accordance with Gregorius' will, who enrolled you in Hogwarts,"

"Er... what if Mrs. Potter doesn't want me?" Harry asked.

"Then we'll think of another back-story, don't worry about memorizing it just yet, we'll give you an official copy with some further necessary details when we get the paperwork filed sometime this week,"

"Contacted Violet Potter, she's agreed to come down for four," Grella added.

"Excellent, that leaves us just enough time to get you into disguise," Mr. Hotchkiss said rising from his seat and moving over to the door marked Disguise Centre.

Harry got up and followed him through the door.

The Disguise Centre looked to Harry like a cross between a potion's lab, a fabric depot, and the hair salon Aunt Petunia had frequented in his younger years for her perms.

"Hotchkiss," greeted a cool female voice.

"Collette, lovely to see you,"

Collette, a witch in a grey pantsuit with a severe black bob and piercing grey eyes, raised one thin eyebrow and turned to Harry.

"Who are we making him look like?" she asked examining Harry critically.

"A Prewett if you please, Collette,"

"Go file your paperwork Hotchkiss and save your charm for the Boss, I'll transform the boy,"

"Then I will leave Harry in your capable hands,"

Collette paid Mr. Hotchkiss no heed but whipped out her wand and flicked it sharply at Harry several times.

"Oi!" Harry protested as his clothes fell away leaving him in a pair of threadbare grey boxers and his socks.

"Relax, you haven't got anything I haven't seen before," said Collette in a manner that was less than comforting as she looked him up and down dubiously.

"Francine, I need blond!" she shouted.

Harry jumped at the sudden shout, the woman had a set of lungs on her and a voice like a whip crack.

"Oui, Madame Collette!" squeaked a short woman in grey robes appearing seemingly out of nowhere and disappearing again down one of the many aisles.

"What are you..."

"Hush, I need to concentrate, these are delicate spells and they need to be permanent!" she scolded him.

Harry stood still and scowled as she waved her wand over his body and he felt his skin wiggle and his bones shift slightly. The assistant in the grey robes, Francine, joined them and began massaging yellow goop onto his head while muttering spells in French and Latin.

Collette stepped back to survey him after what felt like forever but was probably only a half-hour at most. She nodded satisfied and summoned a book.

She handed it to Harry.

"Pick one," she ordered.

"Er...why?" asked Harry glancing down at the designs in the book.

"We need to anchor the spells to make them permanent, the tattoo will serve as an anchor and go over your heart, these are anchor designs that are decorative and well disguised," Collette said impatiently.

Harry surveyed his options and finally pointed to one he liked.

"Can you make it big, so it covers my ribs?" he asked.

"I do not recommend it, it will be distinctly unattractive as your skin loses its elasticity,"

"Oh, er...is there any way to make it shrink in stages or something?"

"Oui," said Collette rolling her eyes and muttering something about males and compensation.

The tattoo was a thin, three fingers wide at the widest point, black Chinese style dragon with a lion's tail, closed eyes, and smoke curling from one of its nostrils. Its head was pillowed over Harry's heart and the body snaked over his ribs leaving the tip of the tail to curl in the hollow of his hip.

The pain of getting it done was nothing less than excruciating but it only lasted for a moment and Harry thought the dragon was cool enough to be worth it.

It took another twenty minutes, during which the entirety of his new tattoo itched abominably and he was smacked across the back of the head for squirming, to anchor the changes to his body permanently.

"Now, the tattoo will change shape, curling up into a smaller spiral every ten years, the spiral should be permanent by the time you reach the age of fifty-five, but I want you to monitor your disguise carefully, the anchor shouldn't be affected by the position and shape of the tattoo but if the spells are disrupted you will need to come in for Disguise tweaking," Collette instructed, before snapping at him to keep still and returning to her work.

When all of the muttering chanting and wand waving was finished Collette conjured him a full length mirror and Harry blinked in surprise at the figure reflected there. Harry Prewett was the same height as Harry Potter at about five seven, they had the same figure, slender to the point of being scrawny with knobby knees. He had Lily Evans' almond shaped green eyes and James Potter's general features except for his nose which was longer and straighter and sported a sprinkling of freckles that reminded Harry of Ron. The little body hair he sported had been lightened to a medium shade of brown. His hair was still messy but it was also longer and a golden blond color and had been brushed back from his face displaying the lightning bolt scar. Harry resisted the urge to comb his fringe forward with his fingers and cover the scar as for once his hair actually looked good and he didn't want to spoil it.

"I don't even recognize myself," Harry muttered adjusting his glasses nervously.

"Good, it means I've done my job," Collette said briskly.

"Hn," Harry grunted.

"Francine!" snapped Collette.

The little witch in the grey robes appeared seemingly out of thin air with a stack of clothes and a pair of black dress shoes in Harry's size. The outfit was a pair of black trousers a white button down and a grey blazer. They were all in Harry's size, and Harry put them on gratefully, not comfortable standing around in his socks and underwear in front of strangers.

Collette turned her back to give him some privacy and Francine disappeared again.

"Where is Hotchkiss?" the snippy Mistress of Disguise demanded of no one in particular.

As if summoned Mr. Hotchkiss waltzed through the door with Grella in tow.

"Is Harry, ready? Ah yes, I can see he is, very good work Collette you have outdone yourself, he looks exactly like an attractive version of Gregorius at fifteen,"

Collette sniffed, unaffected by Mr. Hotchkiss' praise. She turned on her heel and strode purposefully deeper into the disguise centre.

"Francine!" she snapped.

Mr. Hotchkiss winced, "Poor girl, I don't envy her having to deal with Collette every day," he said shaking his head, "Come with me, Mr. Prewett, your Aunt Violet is here to see you,"

AN: Hope you all enjoyed! I know that I'm tweaking the Potter family history a bit more than necessary but I like the idea of a big happy pre-war Potter clan. What do you think? OCs, cousins or younger sibs that could have been killed in the war or just leave James alone and unmolested? Let me know with a review or two!