Albus Dumbledore appeared in Pembroke with a soft 'crack'. Once again, he looked at the letter in his hand, his old, wizened face turning into a scowl.

Lord H. Potter

Master Bedroom
Potter Manor
Pembroke, Wales

Last he had heard of Harry, he had been left in the care of his aunt Petunia Dursley née Evans. What the boy was suddenly doing in Wales and why he was already being addressed by Hogwarts' magic as Lord Potter, even though the boy was not even eleven years of age. Albus had so many questions for the boy, but they would have to wait until he had handed Harry his admittance letter.

Albus paused as he reached the driveway of the large manor house, he paused. It had been decades since he'd last seen it. Back when Fleamont and Euphemia had still been Lord and Lady Potter. They had lived out their retirement in here as well, and after they passed, James had refused to set foot in the place again.

Lily had thought it too big for their small family anyway.

Albus had mourned the house, though. It was a beautiful manor, filled with expensive heirlooms and tasteful decorations. He had loved visiting it, if only for the beautiful gardens and the incredible works of art. Perhaps Petunia had similar thoughts on the matter and she had moved her family here, closer to Harry's roots. Albus sincerely hoped that was the case.

The large oak double doors had a beautiful intricate design in stainless steel of deer roaming together. One of them, a beautiful stag with silver-painted antlers held a knocker in its mouth. It looked newer and more well-cared for than Albus had ever seen it in the past. He barely even dared to grasp the knocker and bring it down on the door.

The sound of his knocks rang out and echoed through the large entrance hall Albus knew lay behind the intricate door. The soft clicks of footsteps approaching had the old wizard straighten up in anticipation. He wondered who would be opening the door. Clearly not a House Elf, as those tiny creatures were perfectly silent in their movements. The door opened with a soundless 'swish' and a tall young man smiled down at Albus.

Albus narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He had never before seen this man, nor did he feel like either a muggle or a wizard. He was certainly handsome, with high cheekbones, a sharp chin and a pale complexion, which stood out starkly with his raven black hair. It was cut in two tips framing his face and hiding his ears while held short in the back. His clothes were almost as dark as his hair. He wore a classic muggle butler uniform. Bangs covered his forehead, stopping short from hiding his eyes. Albus tensed, his eyes widening in shock. The man's eyes were blood red.

Just like Voldemort.

"How may I help you?" the man asked, his voice a soft timbre.

"Ah. My name is Albus Dumbledore, I'm here for-" started introducing himself, only to be cut off by the stranger.

"Ah, yes. The Headmaster," the man spoke, smiling jovially. "The young master has been eagerly expecting his letter. Would you like to come in?"

"I would, yes. Thank you."

The man smiled again and opened the door wider. He stepped aside to let Albus inside and closed the door again after him, the sound of it somehow sounding so much louder than it was supposed to, making a strange dread fill Albus' chest. After that, Albus was led through the large hall, which was decorated by several muggle paintings. Albus, while not an art expert, was pretty sure he recognized at least one Van Gogh and a Magritte. Considering the art and the butler, it seemed Harry and whoever was caring for him, were doing quite well for themselves.

"Can you tell me who you serve, exactly?" Albus asked as he followed the butler.

"I serve the Lord of the House, of course," the man chuckled. "Lord Harrison James Potter-Black."

Albus' eyes widened at that. So Harry indeed had claimed his titles. He hadn't even known it was possible. Usually, one could only claim their Lordship once they became of age.

"How was he able to claim those titles?" he asked.

The butler smiled mysteriously and opened the door to a drawing room. The inside was beautifully decorated in different shades of red, often decorated with gold. The seats were made of deep crimson, with burgundy fluffy pillows and the coffee table was solid mahogany, polished until Albus could see his reflexion on its surface. The dark marble floor was largely covered by a cream carpet and the walls were scarlet with golden deer prancing around, their eyes a beady black.

This was also the first magical part of the house Albus witnessed, as the deer actually moved. The next would be the enlarged picture of James and Lily on their wedding day over the large, black-stoned fireplace. Albus smiled softly as he recognized the moment the picture was taken as during their first dance.

"I will inform the young master of your presence," the butler announced from behind him. "Would you like some tea while you wait, sir?"

"Just some chamomile if you wouldn't mind," Albus replied with a kind smile.

The butler nodded and clapped his hands. With a loud popping sound, a House Elf appeared in front of the butler, her big brown eyes looking up at him in obvious awe and adoration. To Albus' surprise, the elf wasn't wearing the usual dish towel or pillow case, but instead a maid's dress. The main dress itself was black, with a wide skirt that had white frills going down the bottom of it. The sleeves were short and puffy, and it had a white collar. Over it, the elf wore a simple white apron with frills on the shoulders and a typical white maid's headdress.

"Our guest would like chamomile tea, Betty," the butler spoke.

"Of course Mister Sebastian!" the elf squeaked excitedly before turning to look at Albus with inquisitive eyes. "Master guest bes wanting some snack with the tea, sir?"

"Some scones if you have it, perhaps," Albus decided, too shocked to really react otherwise.

The House Elf bowed low and popped away again. Albus stared at the spot she had been for a few more moments before looking back at the door, his mouth already opening to form one of the many questions swirling around in his mind, only to find the butler already gone.

Albus scowled and sat down on the plush loveseat. He couldn't help but sigh in please as he leaned back in the pillows. It was by far the most comfortable seat he'd even placed his backside on. He almost fell asleep until another 'pop' alerted him that Betty was back with his tea. The House Elf grinned cheerfully at him as she set the floating tea-set down on the table. She had brought two cups, but only filled one for the moment.

"Betty, was it?" Albus asked the elf genially.

Betty's grin brightened and she nodded her head excitedly. The reaction had Albus smile as well and he murmured a soft thanks when the elf handed him his tea.

"How long have you worked here, Betty?"

"Betty has served the Potter Family since Master Fleamont was just a baby, Master guest!" the elf replied happily. "But Master Harry bes the first to pay Betty and other elves for their work! Master Harry bes such a good master. Betty bes very lucky to serve him."

Albus almost choked on his tea. He had never before heard of anyone paying their House Elves.

"He pays you?" he asked shocked.

"I do not condone any type of slavery, Headmaster Dumbledore," a soft, yet somewhat stern child's voice rang out.

Albus looked up startled, his eyes widening even more as he saw the young boy walking into the room, followed by Sebastian the butler, who was smirking as if Albus had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar after he had gone to tell on him. There was something very off about that butler and it made Albus very nervous.

"I must admit, I had expected my Hogwarts letter to come by owl," the boy spoke up, looking at Albus with a questioning green gaze.

He had Lily's eyes… err… eye.

For some reason, Harry had an eyepatch over his right eye. The eyepatch itself wasn't bland either. It was black, but with small green gems imbedded in the form if an eight-pointed star. He wore a black three-piece suit with a jade green silk tie and polished black dress shoes. His hair, while wild, was carefully slicked into place to give him an air as if he was several years older than he really was, which was fortified by the indifferent look in his single visible eye.

The boy's hands, which rested on top of one another on a walking cane, were adorned by several rings. On his left index finger lay the Potter Lord Ring. A thin golden band with a rather large ruby in the middle, held up above the simple band by what looked like small silver antlers. On his left ring finger sat a black gold band, adorned with an intricate design of Celtic knots that held together three emeralds. On the middle and largest one, Albus could vaguely recognize the Black Crest.

A silver ring with a large blue stone in an octagon cut sat on Harry's left thumb, but the most surprising of all was by far the large, gaudy ring on his middle finger. There was no way Albus wouldn't recognize the large black gem, cut in a sharp-tipped square, held in the two maws of a golden snake, who had another head instead of a tail. Even if he hadn't been able to see the mark of the hollows on the dusty black stone, he'd still know it.

The Resurrection Stone.

On his right hand, his index, middle, ring and pinkie finger were adorned by signet rings. Albus suspected they belonged to the four House Rings on the left hand. The only crest he didn't recognize was the one on the boy's index finger. It likely belonged with the unfamiliar blue ring.

As Albus silently observed him, the boy cocked his head curiously, vanquishing the illusion of a small adult. He grinned then, showing straight white teeth as his left eye started to sparkle with something like amusement.

"Am I not what you had been expecting, Headmaster?" the boy asked. "I assure you, I am Harry Potter… I am who you're here for after all, right?"

"Y-yes! Of course!" Albus agreed immediately. "I must admit though that you are indeed a little different than I had been anticipating."

The boy chuckled and moved into the room, his steps worryingly unsteady, as if he was in pain just walking. He seated himself in the armchair across from where Albus sat with a soft sigh. The butler moved towards the small table and poured a second cup of tea before handing it to Harry, who nodded at his servant as he accepted it. The cup rattled in the boy's heavily shaking hands, making Albus frown.

"Are you alright, my boy?" the old wizard asked gently.

"As well as I can be, considering my condition," the boy replied dismissively. "I have severe nerve damage, which has led to chronic pain, weak muscles and the shaking you currently see."

Albus' eyes widened in shock at the confession before his expression turned mournful. He had hoped that leaving Harry to grow up far away from his fame would allow the boy a happy childhood. It seemed, however that somehow, this wasn't exactly how it had gone for him.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Harry," he murmured.

"I have no use for pity, Headmaster," the boy waved off carelessly. "However, I do have a few requests for you on the matter."

"Of course my boy! Ask away!" Albus agreed instantly. "If you don't mind, however, I do have some questions for you after."

"I suspected as much," Harry said, laughter clear in his voice. "As you see, I have good days and bad. Mostly, I'll get around well enough with a few pain relief potions. However, some days my condition gets so bad that I am unable to do even the simplest of tasks, such as dressing myself or writing. So, I would really appreciate it if you were to give Sebastian permission to join me at Hogwarts."

"I understand," Albus said, nodding. "I see no reason why he wouldn't be allowed to join you. It is after all, for medical reasons. I can even ensure you will get a private bedroom with an attachment for your butler to stay."

Harry smiled brightly at this and nodded his head in agreement. Albus couldn't help but give a small smile in reply. Harry was an odd boy to be sure. One moment, he was cold and distant, but the next, he could smile so brightly he lit up the room. There was still some hidden innocence that shone in the one visible eye sometimes and it gave Albus hope for the boy's future.

"My boy. I had hoped to speak with your aunt as well," Albus spoke.

This had Harry chuckling and he placed his cup of tea back on the table before leaning back in his seat. Behind him, the butler Sebastian had a wide, knowing smirk as he stared down at Albus.

"I'm sure she'll be happy to meet you," the boy replied amused. "I heard child abusers don't get a lot of visitors in prison."

Albus' eyes widened and he paled in horror.

"Did-did they-…" he murmured quietly, his voice quivering slightly.

"No," Harry denied, the amusement melting from his face as he scowled. "They weren't the cause of my condition. At least not the main cause."

"Would you be opposed to telling me what happened to you, my boy?" Albus asked softly.

Harry closed his eyes at the question and took a deep breath before looking back at Albus with a cold expression. He suddenly looked so much older, jaded and Albus couldn't help but dread the answer he would receive.

"I understand the importance of telling you, headmaster, but it is very personal, and if I even notice a single whisper of it mentioned in public, I will ruin you," the boy warned coldly.

Albus swallowed down his shock and nodded his head in understanding. Harry was nothing like he had expected him to be. Instead of the bright-eyed youth, full of life and innocence, before him sat a man in a child's body. Scarred and his eye was as hard as diamond. Whatever this boy had gone through, Albus could already tell that he would regret finding out.

"I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, hereby swear to keep Lord Harry James Potter's past a secret to all but those who already know unless I have been given express permission of Lord Potter himself. So mote it be."

A flash of light indicated his Wizard's Oath was accepted and he looked at Harry with a soft smile. Harry smiled back, his shoulders relaxed slightly, but Albus could still read some distrust in the boy. He suspected it was ingrained in the child not to trust adults, as it was with many like him who came from abused households. It pained Albus that he hadn't been able to prevent it. It almost felt like failure on his part to protect the boy.

"My relatives never liked me," Harry started in a soft, detached tone. "My uncle beat me and verbally abused me, my aunt ignored me and starved me, and my cousin learned from an early age that freaks like me only existed to be hurt by good and normal folk like himself."

Albus sat completely still in his seat. He barely even dared to breath as he noticed the far-away look Harry got into his eyes.

"I suppose, all in all, it wasn't that terrible, though," the boy murmured. "I slept in the cupboard under the stairs and was made to do a lot of chores, but I had warm clothes and food. Luxuries I came to miss once I lost them."

"How did you lose them?" Albus whispered, terrified of the answer.

Harry's green eye snapped over to him, cold and calculating in a way he had only ever seen in young Tom Riddle's dark eyes. The similarities were worrying, but Albus had sworn never to fail a child under his care again, and he would keep that promise, even if he died trying.

"I was nine," Harry told him. "At Christmas day, my relatives always went to church. I wasn't allowed with them. I think they feared I wouldn't be able to cross onto hallowed ground or something similar."

Here, he snorted bitterly, and the butler Sebastian gave a vicious grin, as if it was the most amusing thing he'd ever heard. The look in those red eyes made Albus shiver, and he quickly refocussed on Harry, who continued his recounting.

"Usually, they left me with an old woman down the street whenever they went out, since they didn't trust me alone in the house, but Mrs. Figg was hospitalized for a broken ankle. Still, they didn't want me with them or in the house, so I was locked out of the house the entire day.

"After a couple hours I started to worry that I would freeze to death before church was over, and I had settled myself not that far away, so that I would surely see my aunt and uncle returning right away. Most of the by-passers side-eyed me with suspicion. My relatives had made sure I had the reputation of a delinquent and a liar, you see, so that any bruise I showed up with was only ever glanced at with the thoughts that I must have deserved it.

"So, I'm sure you can imagine that a child who had never known kindness would be overjoyed when a stranger walked up and offered them a cup of hot Choco if I came with him. I foolishly did, and once we were out of anyone's sight, he grabbed me and suddenly, the world tilted and changed and I was in a house I had never seen before."

He paused again to lean forward and pick up his cup again in heavily shaking hands. He took a calm sip while Albus could do nothing but stare in silence. Harry… had been kidnapped… by a wizard. He couldn't help but glance over to the butler in suspicion, only to find the red gaze of the man focused on him in return with a slow smile stretching those pale features once more.

"He threw me in the basement and gave me my very first taste of the Cruciatus Curse," Harry continued in such a soft tone that Albus almost didn't hear it. "After that, he left me in there for several days until I was sure that he had completely forgotten about me and I would die in there, only for him to finally return with friends."

Albus could already imagine what happened next. Death Eaters were more than infamous for their cruelty. He'd seen more than enough horrors in the past war with Voldemort to know that Harry wouldn't have been spared just because he was a child.

"I learned a lot in the three months I was in that basement," Harry stated, making Albus look up, finding the boy's gaze on him, his head cocked to the side thoughtfully and childish. "I was so confused at first. They all talked about revenge and how their master would kill me once he returned. I didn't understand. I was just a boy, and my parents were killed in a car-crash. What could I have possibly done to make them hate me so much?"

Albus, for the first time in a very long time, felt rage heat his blood. Petunia had left her nephew to believe such awful lies about his parents? How could she have been so disrespectful for their sacrifice?! After all Lily and James had done, their son didn't even know…

"I eventually figured it must have been my parents," the boy continued. "Vernon always went on about how they were good-for-nothing drunks, so they must have gotten in with the wrong folk and gotten me involved too, somehow. It was the only thing I could think of."

"Oh, Harry," Albus whispered miserably.

Harry held up a hand to stop the old wizard from saying anything else.

"I know it were all lies now," he said. "I know they were killed by Voldemort, and I know these were his followers. They wore the masks and robes, but I have seen their Dark Marks on multiple occasions as well."

Here, Harry paused again and gave another dark chuckle that had no right coming from a child's mouth.

"You know, I learned some very interesting things about the Unforgivables," the boy said. "Do you know what it is they do, Professor? Not the obvious things, but just how they manipulate your being to get the results?"

Albus blinked in surprise at that and shook his head.

"I'm afraid I never really bothered to dive deep enough to find out," he admitted.

"The killing curse is the most straight-forward," Harry told him in a tone filled with dark humour. "It very simply shuts the brain down. It goes faster than when you stop the heart. I heart can be started up again if one is fast enough, but once the brain is dead, it will stay that way. In addition, if the heart were the first to stop, the brains would stay active for another few seconds, leaving a person to hear and see for a little longer while they are technically already dead."

"How fascinating," Albus murmured. "I see how knowing this could be beneficial."

"It still can't be stopped though, but I agree that the knowledge of what the curse does can lead to a counter of some kind," Harry agreed thoughtfully. "Now, I find the Imperius much more fascinating myself. You see, just as with the Killing Curse, it attacks the brains. Instead of shutting everything down, however, it focuses on the cortex cingularis anterior, the thalamus and the ponto-mesencephalic brainstem. Very similar to hypnosis, but several times more powerful."

Albus scowled confused at the difficult words the boy used. While the old wizard was no stranger to muggle science, he had never been very good with them either. Lily had been great though. He remembered she had been studying muggle medicine when they had needed to go into hiding. She would be so incredibly proud of this intelligent boy.

"I'm afraid that I don't understand much of what that could mean," he admitted with a soft smile, he was too old to be ashamed of his ignorance. "Could you explain it to a poor old fool?"

Harry chuckled again, though it sounded far more genuine than before.

"Of course," he agreed easily. "The cortex cingularis anterior is where our feelings of pain and our emotions are processed. So, by hypnosis and Imperius, it's made to make us feel pleasant and relaxed. Happy, even. They take away fear, pain and anxieties, making you more willing to bend to their will."

Albus hummed and nodded, indicating for Harry to continue as the boy gave a short pause.

"The Thalamus is a very important part of your brain, but it mostly for the processing of your senses. They're usually dulled under the Imperius." The boy continued his explanation. "Lastly, there is the ponto-mesencephalic brainstem, which is in charge of your reflexes and your focus. Once under the Imperius, your complete focus is drawn to the commands, making everything else disappear from your mind. Because of the pleasant feelings left behind from the cortex cingularis anterior and the thalamus, the subjects will believe that following the commands is the best thing to do, no matter what they are."

"I see," Albus hummed, stroking his beard as he looked at Harry. "Are you aware of any way to stop this from influencing you?"

"A strong will, headmaster Dumbledore," Harry replied smirking.

He leaned forward again to place his now empty cup down and he took a scone. He took a small bite, but instantly dropped the scone back on the plate with a scrunched up nose.

"Sebastian, get me a treacle tart instead," he ordered.

"Right away, young master," the butler replied, bowing.

Harry watched as the man walked out of the room, before sighing and leaning his head back against the cushions of the armchair, his singular visible eye lazily refocussing on Albus.

"Do you want to guess what the Cruciatus Curse does?" he asked in a soft whisper.

"I would say… it attacks the cortex part of your brain?" Albus offered thoughtfully. "The one that processes pain?"

Harry smirked and shook his head, letting the few curls that hadn't been slicked back bounce around his face cutely.

"You would expect so, since the other two work on the brain, but no," he replied. "It actually attacks the sensory nervous system. It runs all through your body and is indeed connected with your spinal cord and the part of your brain to recognize pain and other sensations."

Albus instantly put two and two together, his eyes widening in horror.

"You said you have nerve damage…" he whispered.

Harry inclined his head with a bitter smirk.

"It's another thing I've learned during those three months," the boy told him. "I'm sure you already knew this, but when someone is kept under the Cruciatus long enough, they will go insane from the intense pain. However, when the torture is broken up and spread out over a longer period of time, with breaks to allow the victim to recover at least somewhat, their nervous system will be fried before they lose their sanity."

"Like happened to you," Albus murmured, looking sadly at this poor child that had gone through so much already. "How come you haven't come forth about the kidnapping? Perhaps you had been able to recognize any of your attackers?"

"I went to the muggle police after escaping," Harry replied. "And the Death Eaters never took off their masks. I never bothered to look underneath them either after they died."

If Albus had thought there were no more surprises from the boy across from him, he was very wrong. The confession made his eyes pop out in shock, before he closed them as grief overtook him. All the horrors the boy had been forced to go through.

"It wasn't you… was it?" he whispered shakily.

"Your snack, young master," the butler's voice rang out.

Albus startled at the sudden return of the strange man. There was something… something dark about the butler that had Albus on edge. It had been there since the start, but it seemed to have increased. His blood red eyes were glowing brightly with amusement and… pride?

"I have never killed anyone," Harry told his future headmaster, making the older wizard sigh in relief.

"However, I have no intention to keep it that way."

The dark tone Harry used was something that Albus hadn't heard ever before. It was filled with repressed anger and pure, unadulterated hate.

Whatever the boy had planned for the future, Albus was sure he didn't want to get on the boy's bad side. He truly hoped that Harry would be able to put his hatred and thirst for vengeance aside when it was needed, though.