A/N: Oh help, I wrote my own Sorting Hat song. It's probably pretty terrible. You're free to skim it, since it's not really plot important. I just didn't feel right leaving it out, so here we are.

More importantly: I've changed a few dates for the ages of the Black family in this era. Canonically, Orion should be starting Hogwarts two years after Tom Riddle. Hooray modifications. Alphard Black doesn't appear to have a birth date, so I'm making him a second year when Orion's a first year. The others (namely, Walburga, Lucretia, and Cygnus) are all sticking to canon dates. A few OCs will probably appear from time to time, but none of them will be too important, so fear not!

Chapter One: Tripping Through Time

Harry tilted his head back to crane up at the lofty castle as he stepped forward with the other first years at Professor McGonagall's gesture. He paused for a moment at the recurring realization of how big the castle was. How many students did the castle hold? How many witches and wizards?

"Harry, come on," Ron said impatiently. Harry stepped through the doors a little too quickly, hitting his toe on something and slipping on the heel of the other shoe. He overbalanced and stumbled back.

He had time to think Please don't let me be remembered as the kid who fell in the mud on the first night before someone behind him pushed him back upright.

"Thanks," Harry said after he regained his balance, turning to see who had caught him.

"You're welcome," the boy responded flatly. He stepped past Harry and into the castle. Harry followed, casting about for Ron, who seemed to have disappeared into the other children.

"So, what house do you expect to be in?" Harry asked, hoping to make conversation with the other boy.

"Slytherin, I should hope," the boy replied. "It's the only house in which you can actually become someone who matters." An almost feverish look flickered in the other boy's eyes for a moment before he glanced back over at Harry. "And you?"

Harry was thrown for a minute. "I suppose I don't really know," he said. "I'm told my parents were Gryffindors, so I wouldn't mind that."

The other boy shot him a critical look. "I wouldn't go there, if I were you," he said. "Gryffindor is the house for people who won't be anyone important in the long run."

"Talking about the houses?" Another boy had turned back to look at them. "I'm Orion Lycoris Black of the House of Black, Toujours Pur, so of course I'll be in Slytherin like the rest of my family. What are your names?"

"Harry. Erm, Harry James Potter," he said, hoping that these boys wouldn't have the same reaction to his name as everyone else.

"Related to the magical Potter Family?" Orion Black asked.

"Um…yes, I think so." Harry was dubiously beginning to think that Black was going to be another sneering Malfoy-type, but he just nodded and looked over at the boy who had stopped Harry from falling.

"And your name?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," he said.

"Riddle's a Muggle name," Black observed sharply. "But Marvolo's not. Are you Muggleborn?"

"I believe my father might have been a wizard," Riddle said. "Marvolo is my grandfather's name."

"So you have some wizarding blood in you somewhere," Black remarked. "Assuming that your great-grandmother didn't just have strange taste in names."

"Do wizards usually have strange names?" Harry asked curiously. "I've met one named Ron and another named Draco, but it seems like most have weirder names."

"They're not unusual names if you grew up with them," Black said simply as they stepped into a room off a main hall from where a lot of talking could be heard. The room had the same stone walls and old-fashioned furniture.

"Now that we're all here," a voice said pleasantly. Harry turned to look at the speaker and started. He had been expecting McGonagall again, but instead an auburn-haired man clad in lilac robes stood there. He smiled out at the first years. "I am Professor Dumbledore, head of Gryffindor House."

Harry stared at him in confusion. The Dumbledore on his chocolate frog card had shown an image of an old man. Perhaps this was a relative of some sort.

"The Sorting will begin in a minute," Professor Dumbledore continued. "You will be Sorted into four Houses: Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Gryffindor. Each House has its own unique qualities and advantages. I'm certain you'll all do well wherever you end up. Please wait here for a moment."

Dumbledore stepped out again and the students began muttering together again. Black turned back to Harry. "You said your parents were Gryffindors?"

"Yes, that's what I was told," Harry said, unsure where Black was going with this.

"Well, think about it like this, then." Black paused thoughtfully. "Gryffindor is the House for the courageous, isn't it?" He didn't seem to want a response, for he continued on. "Well, the other Houses can tell you that yes, they are brave in that they tend to put themselves in danger to protect people, but they don't stop to think. The people who think are the ones who can do the most, aren't they? You can help more people by stopping to think and plan. Being willing to consider what you're doing takes its own flavor of bravery." Black shrugged and began to turn away. "Just a thought to keep in mind, Potter."

Riddle was standing alone nearby, so Harry, beginning to feel quite nervous and unsettled by all the discussions going on around him about the merits of the different Houses, decided to talk to him. "So, um, were you raised by Muggles?"

"Have a problem with that, Potter?" Riddle asked, expression mostly blank but with a hint of a glare behind it.

"No, I was too," Harry hurried to explain. "My aunt and uncle are awful. I mean, not all Muggles are, but they are." Something about Riddle's not-quite-a-glare left Harry feeling distinctly wrong-footed. "How about you? Who do you live with?"

"None of your business," Riddle said with the same touch of coldness.

"Fine," Harry said with a bit of irritation. An awkward pause ensued before Harry broke it again. "So you want to be in Slytherin?"

"Yes," Riddle agreed. "I suppose you'll be an idiot Gryffindor?"

"For your information, I haven't made up my mind," Harry snapped back. "And there's no cause to be rude." He stepped away pointedly, nearly running into a surly-looking girl dressed in oddly old-fashioned clothes who glared at him. "Sorry," he muttered, wondering if the outdated appearances of everything were a wizard thing.

"Students!" Dumbledore had returned. "Line up please. It's time for the Sorting."

They fell into an awkward line, bunched up in places and with nobody quite willing to go first. Harry could see Orion Black's long hair several people up the line, and Riddle had disappeared. They filed awkwardly back across the massive, high-ceilinged hall and through the doors that lead to—

Harry gasped, as did many others. The room itself was enormous, with four long tables full of students. The ceiling was covered in stars and looked as though it simply didn't exist at all, simply opening up to the sky. Torches lined the walls and pale, floating people that appeared to be ghosts hovered near the tables.

Dumbledore lifted a hat so dirty that it would have made Aunt Petunia screech in horror up onto a stool. To Harry's shock, it quivered before opening up a mouth and beginning to sing:

Many, many years ago

The Founders had a thought.

Is it best to break apart?

But Helga's warnings were forgot.

They joined together and enchanted me

So that I might tell you lot

In which house you best belong

And where you certainly do not.

You might join the ranks of Gryffindor,

Whose Hat I used to be.

His folk have nerve and haste

And of those in danger, they cannot bear to see.

Or perhaps you'll go to Hufflepuff,

A place as kind as Helga herself.

There you'll learn hard work

And to strive towards everyone's health.

Maybe it's Slytherin for you,

Should you be the cunning sort.

If you wish to become the best you can,

Then in Slytherin you'll hold your fort!

And lastly, but never leastly,

There's Ravenclaw's clever ones.

If you value knowledge and learning,

It's here you'll find your haven.

So gone on then, try me on!

I'm a good judge of size.

Wherever you go, you'll find a way.

For I swear I never tell lies.

There was a pause as everyone ascertained the Hat really was done singing before the students applauded. Harry was too nervous to join in. Somewhere behind him, a student complained that his older brother had told him that they were made to fight the teachers to get in.

Dumbledore unrolled a scroll and cleared his throat. "Avery, Averil!"

A student that clearly was Averil Avery stumbled up to the Hat, looking anxious, and put the Hat on. There was a pause, and the Hat called, "Slytherin!"

Avery, looking relieved, hurried off to the correct house.

"Baker, Suzanne!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Black, Orion!"

Black stepped out of the line and up towards the Hat. He didn't look nearly as nervous as the others.

"Slytherin!" the Hat called again. Apparently, Black had gotten what he had expected.

And so it continued on in alphabetical order. Harry was suddenly struck with the horrifying thought that perhaps the Hat wouldn't Sort him at all, and would rather call out, "Back to the train!" or something equally horrible. He nervously tried to flatten his hair and looked around, wondering where Ron had run off to.

Finally, they reached the O's and P's. O'Flaherty was made a Gryffindor, Perkins became a Ravenclaw. The scowling girl, apparently called "Prince, Eileen!" was then called.

Harry realized in utter horror that he'd been skipped.

"Riddle, Tom," became a Slytherin, but Harry wasn't listening anymore. He was rooted to the spot, convinced that he would be sent back to the Dursleys, told that this was all a terrible mistake, sorry, we confused you with the other Harry Potter.

All the students had been called and Harry still stood there. Dumbledore glanced back at his list in confusion before looking at Harry. "And who might you be?" he asked.

"Harry Potter, sir," he mumbled. The entire school was staring at him.

"Did you sneak onto the train with an older sibling, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore questioned.

"No!" Harry shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out his Hogwarts letter, which he'd been carrying around. "Look, here's my letter!"

Dumbledore stepped forward and plucked the letter out of his hand, looking doubtful. He glanced at it and his eyebrows furrowed. There was a long pause.

"Come along, please," the professor said after a moment. He gave Harry a slight smile but looked very confused. He gestured for Harry to cross the Hall, following quickly after him. The students were whispering and staring, making Harry feel very young and stupid. Dumbledore pointed Harry to a door before turning to speak to the other teachers. Harry opened the door and stepped into the smaller room that appeared to be some sort of meeting place. It had several portraits on the walls and a circle of chairs.

"Are you a first year?"

Harry started and spun around. The portrait looked at him inquiringly. Apparently, not only did wizard photographs move, but their paintings did as well.

"Well?" the portrait pressed.

Harry nodded mutely, feeling very confused.

"What on earth did you do?" The other portraits on the walls were listening in intently. Harry supposed that not many interesting things would happen to a portrait.

The door opened again, saving Harry from needing to answer. Dumbledore and four other teachers stepped through. There was a round-bellied man with a large amount of straw-colored hair, a tall woman who looked to be getting on in age, and a red-haired young woman who seemed to suffer from the same chronically untamable hair as Harry did. Last through the door was a very old wizard who wobbled slightly as he walked.

"Mr. Potter, these are the other Head of houses, Professors Slughorn, Merrythought, and Yancy, and this is Headmaster Dippet," Dumbledore explained. "Harry, would you mind telling us what the year is?"

Harry stared at him. The year? "Nineteen ninety-one," he said. What a bizarre question.

His answer caused a stir amongst the professors. Dumbledore held out Harry's Hogwarts letter for Dippet to examine while Professor Merrythought came forward to inspect Harry.

"Mr. Potter, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to cast a few spells on you," she said politely. "Just to check you over and be sure you're all right."

"I—I guess so," he said nervously. "Go ahead."

Professor Merrythought nodded and pulled out her wand. She waved it around him in sharp circular motions. Harry gasped as he lit up different colors with different movements of her wand.

Finally, she nodded and stepped back, looking puzzled. "He hasn't been cursed with confusion and is telling the truth, as far as I can tell. He has traces of some sort of dark magic on him, but I couldn't tell you what without further study. There is also a layer of Hogwart's magic on him."

"Strange," redheaded Professor Yancy said. "Very strange."

"You don't think he's a time traveler, do you, Galatea?" Professor Slughorn rumbled.

She shook her head. "It's difficult to tell, but the magic remnants on him do seem to speak of some sort of displacement."

Dippet held the letter back out to Dumbledore. "Considering the name on the signature of the letter, time travel seems to be the case." Even his voice was wheezy and wobbly.

"The signature?" Dumbledore read it and his eyebrows rose. "Well, I did think she seemed like a talented student."

"What is it?" Yancy asked.

"The name of the Deputy Headmistress on the letter is one of our current students," Dumbledore explained. "A clever girl, but certainly not old enough for the position right now." He folded the letter up. "Do you mind if I keep this, Mr. Potter?"

"No, that's all right," Harry said shakily. Dumbledore folded it up and put it in his pocket. "What's all this about time travel?"

"It would appear," Professor Merrythought said gently, "that you've fallen through time, Mr. Potter."

"Through time?" he asked. "What? How? What year is it?" He had the distinctly peculiar impression that the ground wasn't quite as firm as it had been a moment ago. In fact, it seemed nearly as wobbly as Dippet's voice.

"It's the year nineteen thirty-eight, and I'm not sure," Merrythought admitted. "With further study, and with your permission, of course, I may be able to reverse the effects and return you to your proper time."

"Perhaps Mr. Potter could remain here while we try to understand what happened," Dumbledore suggested. "After all, he came back here to Hogwarts. Headmaster, do you think it might be best for him to remain here where the magic is linked?"

Dipper frowned, considering. "Yes, that might be best. Galatea?"

"The time magic appears connected to Hogwarts," she confirmed. "I wouldn't want to risk the effects of removing him from here."

"Heads of houses?" Dumbledore asked. Slughorn nodded agreement and Yancy hesitated before assenting.

"It's settled then!" Dumbledore looked pleased by this. "Harry, it will probably be best if you don't mention anything of the future. It's far too much to ask you to remain completely silent about this mishap, but if you could do your best to refrain from causing a paradox, I think that would be best. Do you mind if I cast a spell on you to help keep you from bringing up events that haven't happened yet? I promise it won't hurt you, just cause a buzzing in your head to remind you."

"I—suppose so, sir," Harry said, still feeling as though he'd been whacked solidly around the head. "Go ahead."

Dumbledore smiled easily and swished his wand. Copper-colored mist rose from his wand and settled around Harry's head before vanishing.

"Good, good," Dippet said. "Well, all that remains is the Sorting, then. Best if we announce what's happened, I think." He glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded thoughtfully in agreement.

Harry was escorted back into the Hall and Dippet stood up at the teacher's table to explain. "Students!" he called when they didn't fall silent. "Apologies for the mishap. Please welcome Mr. Potter, a time traveler! He will be staying at the castle while we sort out his little mishap with time. Please refrain from questing him about future events—we wouldn't want to create a time paradox, after all! The Sorting will finish now."

He sat back down without explaining anything else as a rush of whispers and staring broke out among the students. Dumbledore smiled amiably at Harry before holding out the Sorting Hat. Harry sat on the stool nervously. The Hat was much too large for him, he discovered. It fell right down over his eyes.

"Well, well," the Hat said. "Harry Potter. I've been expecting you in the nineties! What on earth are you doing here? Oh…I see."

I don't, Harry thought.

"Don't worry, Harry, things will be clear in time. Now, where to put you… Oh, my, that's a lot of courage you have, and a good dose of cleverness… You'll need to be quick, though, to survive here. Under different circumstances…well, you need to be cunning to be great, Mr. Potter. You'll need it even more here."

Oh no, not Slytherin, Harry thought.

"Sorry, Harry. Slytherin will help achieve greatness, and you need that greatness for what's coming. Yes, I must. SLYTHERIN!"

The Hat shouted this out to the rest of the school. Harry pulled the Hat off his head shakily and handed it back to Dumbledore—whom he suddenly realized was probably not a relative of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, but the man himself, many years younger. He stood up and headed automatically over to the table where Black and Riddle had gone. Orion caught his eye and gestured for Harry to join him.

"Well done, Potter," he said lowly as Dippet stood again and called, "Let the feast begin!"

"It's been a while since we had a Potter in Slytherin," Black continued. Harry gaped at the dishes around them as they filled with food. "The last one must have been…" He trailed off, thinking, before turning to a boy nearby. "Alphard! Who was the last Potter in Slytherin?"

"Henry Potter. Class of 1892," said the boy that was presumably Alphard.

"That's my cousin, Alphard Black," Orion clarified with a nod of thanks to the aforementioned cousin. "He's in the year above us. I suppose it makes sense, though. A time traveler! How did you manage that?"

"Oh," Harry said. "I don't know." He gingerly reached for the plate of roast potatoes. The feast seemed to have every kind of food imaginable. Black caught his glance at a plate of peppermint humbugs and laughed.

"They're a favorite of Dippet's," he explained. "No one likes them, but Headmaster's orders, I suppose." He seemed unfazed by Harry's time traveling. Were these things common in the wizarding world?

Harry started to eat. With his nervousness from the Sorting worn off, he found himself very hungry and with his mind buzzing along. Time travel? So he must have left everyone behind in the future. Well, he thought, at least there wouldn't be any Dursleys this far back. Nineteen thirty-eight! He wondered how different everything here would be compared to the nineties. At least the teachers seemed willing to try and fix whatever had gone wrong. He hoped they would be able to fix it. The other students left him alone for the most part, but Harry thought he could feel them watching him, probably planning on asking him questions later.

When the feast was over, an older boy and girl who introduced themselves as the 5th year prefects led them deep down into the castle, through several winding corridors that gave Harry the uneasy feeling that they were in a dungeon. There were hardly any portraits down here, either.

"Here we are," the male prefect said. He stopped before a completely blank stretch of stone. "The current password is labyrinth."

On his final word, the wall slid open, becoming a door. The prefects gestured for them to enter, so they filed in.

"Rules!" the other prefect said. "First of all, Slytherin house will be your home for seven years, so your loyalty will be to us. Don't go about sharing personal matters before the other houses, understand?"

She waited for them to mutter agreement before continuing. "Secondly, I won't tell you not to break rules since you're all just idiot kids, but for Salazar's sake, do not get caught. And finally, although the other houses don't agree with this, being a Slytherin doesn't make you automatically evil. Now off to bed! Girls, come with me. You boys will go with Travis."

Harry and the other first years followed Travis the prefect down a dark winding corridor to the very end.

"Alright, you lot are in here," Travis said, pointing to the students in question with quick, impatient gestures. "Time traveler kid, you're in here, too. Lucky we have the elves to pull up another bed, eh?" Harry mumbled something in agreement and followed the dorm, beginning to feel the shock of the day wear off and leaving him reeling and about to fall asleep standing up. He stumbled through the dorm, decorated as elegantly as the common room, and over to the bed with his trunk beside it. Harry was too tired to spare more than a brief thought towards the question of how his trunk had time traveled with him. He was awake long enough to recognize that that Riddle was sitting on the bed across from him and that the window had an odd tint to the darkness outside it before he fell fast asleep.