Harry Potter and the Twilight Zone

A/N: Hello, readers. This is my first fan fiction. Please let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 1

The annoying beep-beep of the alarm clock shoots through my dreams and brings me back to consciousness. Grudgingly, I roll over and turn the alarm off. Opening one emerald-green eye, I'm greeted with a blur of objects. "God, I'm blind," I mumble to myself as I put on my black, Jorden glasses. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I let me eyes close, wishing I could go back to sleep. With a heavy sigh I stumble to the bathroom, cursing the magic that lights the lamp as it blinds me, and step into the shower. Flicking my hand lazily toward the sponge, I sigh gratefully as it scrubs me from head to toe. I let loose a chuckle at my fickleness: one moment annoyed with magic and the next grateful for it. Stepping out of the shower, and over to the mirror, I shave and fix my hair. I've found by using magic I can style my hair any way I like. I opt for a neat business type of look, and move in to the bedroom, donning black slacks, a green pinstripe button down shirt, and dress shoes — have to look nice when you're the boss man.

Before walking into the kitchen for a cup of tea, I stop to admire the pictures on my fireplace mantle: the first, a red-haired boy of about six riding a toddler broomstick, grinning from ear to ear; the second, a boy of five with black hair and green eyes playing with finger paints; and the third, a red-haired, three-year old girl eating applesauce. A surge of loneliness and regret wells up inside of me. I regret that my marriage with Ginny didn't work and that she married an American and moved the kids to the U.S. I couldn't wait for the weekend so I could visit with them. I write to them every day of course, and they send me pictures, but it's a poor substitute.

On my way to the Ministry to perform my Head Auror duties, I walk past an old man who feeds the birds every morning and wave hello. Suddenly, I'm thrown into the air by some invisible force, causing me to twist and turn. I can't see or hear anything aside from the wind. After what feels like an eternity, I crash through tree branches until landing on the ground with a thump.

Pulling my wand out, I quickly scan the area and try to catch my breath. Only dark, leafless trees greet me. So I say, "Orior Oriri Ortus," a spell that will show any human in the area. I am relieved to find that there is no one near me. Keeping my wand at the ready and my mind alert, I check myself for injuries. Other than a few scrapes and bruises I'm, amazingly, unharmed. Oddly, this forest reminds me of the Forbidden Forest near Hogwarts.

Several minutes of walking brings me to the edge of the forest, and onto the grounds of — Hogwarts. What the hell? Did I stumble on a portkey or something? No, it wasn't the same type of pulling sensation. My mind quickly leafed through all the possibilities, my Auror training and experiences from the war kicking in. I change my hair to a sandy blonde color and move my bangs to cover my scar. I like to think I'm cautious, but most people think I'm paranoid. Either way, it's a side effect from the almost constant stress I went through as a child. Keeping my wand at my side, hidden in the folds of my robe, I walk brusquely to the castle. All seems peaceful, the wind is chilly but gentle, the sun is warm, the sky is clear, and the birds are singing a happy tune. I don't trust it.

McGonagall should be here…school starts in a few weeks. Tentatively, I pull on the handle of one of the giant oak doors that lead to the Entrance Hall. The door opens and I slip inside. The castle is quite. A small smile turns up the corners of my mouth. This place looks exactly like it did when I was eleven.

Dammit, what's the password? I'd been standing in front of the stone eagle for twenty minutes with no luck. I run my hand through my hair in frustration. The eagle suddenly moves aside, but it isn't McGonagall who walks through. Dumbledore!? What the? What kind of sick freak would dress up as Dumbledore? I quickly cover my anger, deciding to play along for now, and adopt an innocent, apologetic look.

"Well, good afternoon. Was I expecting you?" Dumbledore says.

"Ah, no…um… my name is Harry Green. I was hoping you had a teaching position available. I know this is incredibly short notice and not the way you usually apply for a position but... well, I was an Auror, but it just wasn't the job for me. Too stressful. So I was hoping to find a quieter line of work." I run my hand through my hair, this time feigning nervousness.

"Oddly, we do need a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor," Dumbledore said, blue eyes twinkling. I never really thought about it before, but the twinkling is kind of creepy.

"That's great! It's an odd coincidence, but that was my favorite subject. Would you be willing to give me a chance?"

"Ah, that reminds me of a man who once lost a diamond cuff-link in the sea, and twenty years later, on the exact day, a Friday apparently, he was eating a large fish - but there was no diamond inside… Lemon drop?" he said as he popped one in his own mouth.

"Err… no thanks." Have I stepped off into some alternate reality or have I just gone nutters? Maybe both…

"Well then, let's take a stroll and I'll show you to your quarters." And with that he started down the hall at a lively pace. I stumbled in confusion and had to jog to catch up. Dumbledore prattled on about meetings and all the different duties of a professor, and about the castle and all of its oddities.

"Here we are," Dumbledore said, stopping beside a statue of a monkey, and whispered something in its ear. The wall beside the monkey shimmered and formed a door. "You'll be able to change the password once you step inside. I'm afraid I'll have to leave you now. I have a prior engagement. Tomorrow there will be a meeting in the Great Hall at 8am. Be sure to bring your appetite." He gave me a toothy smile and as he turned to leave I said, "Wait, you wouldn't happen to have a copy of today's Daily Prophet would you?" "As a matter of fact," Dumbledore felt around in his bright orange robes and pulled out a folded up newspaper, "I do." He handed it to me and walked away whistling some unfamiliar tune.

I stared after him a moment before turning toward the door to my chambers. Taking a breath to steady my nerves, I push the door open, and find a cozy sitting room with wood floors, a stone fireplace, big overstuffed burgundy furniture, a desk, and bookshelves galore. A bedroom and bathroom were through a door to the left. Impressive. House elves have already lit a fire and set out some tea.

I open the Daily Prophet and check the date: August 18, 1975. Jeeping frack. Somehow I've gone back in time. 1975… that means my parents are 15. I'm will be teaching my parents. I barely register the movement of my feet until I hit the arm of the couch. I flop down, landing on my back, my horror turning to delight. I get to see my parents! And Sirius, and Remus, and… Pettigrew. It'll be a challenge not to strangle that one. Oh! And I get to see Snape as a child… I bite my lip as laughter tickles its way out of my throat, but soon cuts off when I realize: I'm eleven years older than all of them. Well, congratulations, Potter, you've just crossed over into the Twilight Zone.