Times of Trouble

During the entire first week at Hogwarts Harry kept getting distracted. Every time he wasn't actively interacting with people or doing something for his teachers he was thinking. Going back over every minute of the past month and a half.

He was desperately trying to remember what he could've done to change Albus. He kept spilling stuff on his robes at mealtimes, walking into people or walls, and messing up in class.

During the first Transfiguration class they'd been trying to turn a match into a needle. Neville and Harry had agreed to pretend to be on the same level as the other first years – which required a lot more concentration than you would think. So, it was almost a total disaster when Harry's mind wandered off during class. Instead of just waving his wand and producing no results – like everyone else – he turned his match into a perfect needle. As well as every other match on the desk he was sharing with Neville.

Luckily Professor Macmillan had only believed it to be a fluke when Harry was unable to repeat the spell properly. He'd gone back to reading his book at his desk muttering something about too much raw talent and not enough skill to fill a thimble.

That first incident had occurred on Monday.

On Tuesday Harry almost gave himself away when he came out of his daze in the middle of History of Magic only to realize that Professor Binns was actually still alive. The only thing that gave it away was the fact that it's impossible for a ghost to sneeze and wheeze all over his desk. Only Neville's kick to his leg kept him from saying something stupid like, "You're alive!"

Even if it hadn't given him away it would've earned him a detention.

On Wednesday he'd almost fallen off the Astronomy Tower. He'd been lost in thought one minute, and in the next he'd been dangling over the edge of the tower. His robe had been grabbed by Misletie Chevalier and Emily Thompson while Richie had rescued his telescope. He still wasn't sure what had happened, and neither was anyone else. Though Professor Black had accused him of playing around and had given him a detention for that Friday night.

Lack of sleep and a near death experience had made him less than happy when he woke up on Thursday morning. This wasn't helped when he arrived in Defense Against the Dark Arts and discovered who the teacher was. Professor Malfoy had an intense dislike for Gryffindors and was quite happy to assign them lots of homework. It hadn't helped that Professor Malfoy was almost a carbon copy of his descendent, Draco Malfoy, the two of them could've been twins.

The only good thing about Thursday was that they had Charms next. Except, Harry almost blew everything when he called their professor Percy, but, truly, anyone would've made that mistake! The resemblance between Professor Billius Weasley and Percy Weasley was uncanny. They looked as similar as Fred and George. Luckily Professor Weasley hadn't realized that Harry was talking to him.

Then, on Friday, during Potions, Harry had almost killed everyone. He added too many cockroach eyes and turned his Straightening Serum into a strong, explosive acid that ate through everything.

It even ate through solid stone.

The class was all huddled on narrow stone columns (all that remained of the floor) and covered in acid burns by the time Professor Rosier managed to get everything under control.

After that little incident Harry found himself with detention every Saturday for the next month. Professor Rosier did not believe in mistakes and second chances. His exact words were:

"There is no humanly possible way you could have 'accidently' doubled the number of cockroach eyes. You did that on purpose and without even thinking through the consequences, just like most Gryffindors. As punishment you'll spend every Saturday for the next month in detention learning how to stop and think.

"Did you really do that on purpose?" Emily Thompson asked at lunch later, when they were all healed and cleaned up.

"Don't be stupid, of course he didn't. There's not enough of him there to do anything like THAT on purpose." Misletie Chevalier said through a mouthful of sausage and egg.

"How could you think that, Emily?" Neville asked as he shot Chevalier an annoyed look. "Does Harry seem like the sort to try and kill everyone?"

"Well…no…but he has done a lot of stupid things this week." Emily replied pertly.

Harry hurriedly finished chewing and swallowed.

"I could've sworn the directions on the board said ten ounces of cockroach eyes, not five."

"Then maybe you should see Madam Abbott about getting new glasses, not that it will help you if you're so blind as to mistake a five for a ten."

Harry just rolled his eyes at Chevalier. Really, he had no idea how he'd messed up the potion. He'd made the Straightening Serum many times before; he should've known to only add five ounces of cockroach eyes. Still, when he'd glanced at the board and read ten ounces of cockroach eyes he hadn't questioned it, nope, he'd just slid ten of them into his cauldron and looked on in shock as the world exploded around him.

It had probably been one of the most unpleasant moments in potions he'd ever had, which was saying a lot.

"There's no use arguing over why it happened. What's done is done, after all. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm going to go get started on Professor Malfoy's essay on basic shields so I can actually enjoy my weekend." Richie's cool voice cut through the heated discussion that Harry had just noticed going on between Neville and Chevalier on whether Harry really needed his eyes checked or not.

Harry nodded, "That sounds like a good idea, I'll join you."

Richie nodded before looking around the table, "Anyone else?"

All they got was silence and a few shaken heads so Harry and Richie left the Great Hall and headed up to the Library to get their papers done.

About two hours later Richie laid his quill down and pronounced himself done. Harry had been finished for a while already. He didn't know why he'd ever thought essays like this were hard – they were nothing compared to O.W.L.S. preparations.

"Great, want to go see what's going on outside? We still have a couple hours until dinner," Harry asked as he began packing up his bag.

"In a minute, first I want to know why you've been acting so strangely since we got to Hogwarts."

Harry's breath caught, "Me? Acting strangely? How so?"

"One, you keep getting lost. Two, you almost fell of the Astronomy Tower. Three, you keep staring at Albus. Four, you almost killed all of us this morning. Oh, and several other little things not worth mentioning."

"I've just been trying to act like a normal first year, that's all."

"Harry, I spent a month with you and heard all sorts of things from Neville about you as well, you've been acting oddly."

"You really have."

Harry looked up from his bag to see that Neville had appeared from around a bookcase.

"I haven't been acting oddly. You two are imagining things."

Neville crossed his arms, "Harry, I'm not imagining things. I've known you for years and if Hermione or Ron were here they'd agree with me."

Harry took a deep breath, trying to keep the anger he felt welling up inside him under control. Really, he shouldn't be angry, the two of them were trying to look out for him.

"Look, I'm not acting oddly for any reason. It's just that Hogwarts is so different, yet frighteningly similar, it's throwing me off. I'm in Gryffindor, but the common room looks off and we're in the wrong dormitory. Add that to all the teachers that look familiar, but are different. I'm also worried about Hermione and how we're going to get back to 1996."

Harry purposefully didn't mention his worries about Albus and how they might've changed the future. They wouldn't understand. They'd never had a Hermione lecture on time and paradox. Granted, you weren't supposed to go this far back with a time turner, so the rules might be different, but it probably wasn't a good idea to change things, especially something as important as your Hogwarts' House.

"Harry, I'm being thrown off by all those things too, but you don't see me almost killing everyone. What's the real reason?" Neville crossed his arms and gave Harry a very un-Neville like stare.

"Harry, please, tell us, we're your friends," Richie added.

Friends? These were his friends? Sure, Neville was someone Harry considered a friend, but not a close one, not like Ron and Hermione. As for Richie…Harry had only known the boy for a month! Just a month!

"Look," Harry said through gritted teeth, "there's nothing wrong. I'm just having trouble adjusting, that's all."

"Harry…I don't think-"

"Neville! Shut! Up!" Harry roared as he finally lost it. "There. Is. Nothing. Wrong. Okay? Absolutely nothing!"

Neville and Richie stumbled back a step at the sight of Harry's anger. They held matching looks of surprise with just a hint of fear on their faces.

Harry ignored them as he shouldered his bag and stormed out of the library. He was oblivious to the fact that every pair of eyes in the library followed him out; including a pair of twinkling blue ones.

As Harry stormed down the hallway blood rushed in his ears as he shoved his way through a gaggle of Hufflepuff girls at the bottom of the stairs.

He was just so sick and tired of it all!

He was sick and tired of Dumbledore screwing up his life

First, he'd sent him to the Dursleys and keep him in the dark.

Second, he'd ignored Harry all year.

Third, he'd up and joined Slytherin!

Slytherin!

Why had Albus Dumbledore joined Slytherin?

And how was it Harry's fault?

Was it something he'd said or done at the Dumbledore's that summer?

No, it couldn't be! He'd only ever been nice to Albus!

These thoughts continued to swirl angrily through Harry's head as he headed out of the castle and onto the grounds. He didn't pay attention to where he was walking, he was too busy worrying about the future and what Dumbledore being in Slytherin meant to the world.

If Dumbledore turned evil, like so many Slytherins, then who would stop Voldemort? Who would keep Hogwarts safe from Voldemort?

These fears were so strong running through Harry's thoughts that he didn't notice the dozing body lying under a tree.

Well, he didn't notice until he tripped and fell on them.

"Gah!" was accompanied by a startled snort and someone trying to jump to their feet, only to get tangled up in their robes and fall flat on their face.

Harry pulled himself back to his feet hurriedly turned around to help whomever it was that he had tripped over.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

The other student pulled himself up into a sitting position and checked to see if his nose was broken. When he found it to be in its proper position he grinned and pushed his flaming red hair out of his face.

"Yeh, I'll live. Yeh can't hurt me, yeh ain't nuthin but a bag ah skin an' bones."

Harry looked at the other boy and fought the urge to groan. Why, of all the people at Hogwarts, did he have to trip over Preston Turnipseed? The lone American at the school, no one quite knew why he was here and not at some school in the states. His accent grated on everyone's nerves, primarily because he never stopped talking. He also was quickly become none as the class dunce. He was worse than Neville had ever been and he didn't seem to care.

"Well, I'm glad you're alright," Harry backed up a few steps. "I really need to go now."

"Are yeh a regular four-flusher or do yeh jus' not like me?"

Harry stopped moving backwards and frowned at Preston, "Pardon?"

Preston grunted, "Yeh heard me."

Harry shook his head, "I heard you, but I didn't understand you. What's a four-flusher?"

Preston rolled his eyes, "Don' yeh now nuthin? A four-flusher is a liar."

Harry's frown deepened, "Then why didn't you just say liar?"

Preston shrugged, "I guess I jus' wanted ta see how stupid yeh really are."

Harry's blood began to boil again, just like it had back in the library. "Stupid? I'm not stupid."

"Yeh coulda fooled me."

Now Harry was truly angry again. Who was this little boy to call him stupid? He'd fought Voldemort four times and survived every time! He had just taken his O.W.L.S.! There was no way he was stupid! Harry gritted his teeth though and tried to control his temper. He didn't want to accidently hurt this little kid.

"I'm not stupid. I've just been distracted."

Preston scoffed, "Coulda fooled me. Anyways, what yeh gots to be distracted about? Yer just a kid like me."

Harry tried to count to ten.

He failed, probably because the look of disgust and disbelief on Preston's face was too much to bear.

"I have plenty to distract me! You'd be distracted too if your best friend got lost and couldn't be found!" Harry practically shouted.

Preston blinked up at him for a moment, when he did speak it was in a calm voice, like one you might use with a small child. "Why don' yeh send 'em a letter?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "How can I send them a letter if I don't know where they are?"

"Send 'em an owl. Ain't those creatures magic or somethin'? Can't they find anyone?"

Harry stared at Preston in shock. At first his brain was empty and silent, and then his thoughts started spinning again.

Why hadn't they thought of that already? After all, Hedwig had always found Sirius, no matter where he was hiding. So why couldn't they find Hermione the same way?

"Preston, you're a genius," Harry whispered just before he took off running back to the castle.

Preston watched as Harry Potter ran off. Once the skinny twig of a kid was gone he muttered, "Took yeh long enough."