Demiurge was presently walking through the halls of the ninth floor, outside of his lord's office. The years had not changed the devil, not on the outside anyway. The boy's arrival had added an unforeseen factor into the Tomb of Nazarick, a human factor, and the creation of Ulbert Alain Odle was still trying to understand it. Not that it was a bad thing, having to care for something so fragile certainly adds perspective to life. Not to mention the wealth of discoveries made from studying the boy paid back any inconveniences that might have accumulated during the boy's youth.

The Guardian of the Seventh floor came to a halt outside of lord Ainz's office.

'It's midmorning, so by now, the boy should have left for his study session in Ashurbanipal.'

Knocking three times on the door with the back of his knuckle, the seventh Floor Guardian waited for his master to bid him enter. Instead of a call from within, however, the door to the office opened revealing Albedo.

"Demiurge, what a surprise." The succubus greeted.

The devil gave a bow of respect to his superior,

"Good morning Albedo. If you are here, it means that you are running behind schedule."

"Yes," Albedo admitted, permitting Demiurge to enter, "Harry asked Lord Ainz to look over the speech he is to give at tomorrow's festival. They are just finishing up."

Inside the office, the Supreme Overlord sat behind his office reading a sheet of paper. On the opposite side of the desk, facing away from Demiurge was a youth of ten years, nearly eleven. In contrast to the impeccable state of the robes that the boy wore, his hair was messy, a quality that had made many of the stylists here on the ninth floor nearly die of shame for not being able to do anything with the mop on top of the boy's head.

Upon realizing he had a new visitor, Ainz looked up from the paper.

"Ah good morning Demiurge."

Realizing that one of his superiors was present, the boy turned and faced the Floor Guardian and bowed,

"Master Demiurge, good morning."

So polite, that was how Demiurge liked this relationship with the human boy. The other Floor Guardians had their own relationships with the boy, claiming some form of familial bond with him, save for Victim and Gargantua whom Harry hardly had contact with. Even Albedo had forgone the role of pretending the boy was like her own child, and was proudly declaring him to be her son. In contrast, Demiurge was more than satisfied to have a strictly professional relationship with the boy, with Harry as the student and himself as the teacher.

"Lord Ainz, young Harry." Demiurge greeted, "I hope I am not interrupting."

"We were just finishing." Ainz stated to his Floor Guardian before refocusing on Harry, "Your oratory skills have improved, and your composition is fine, but I would recommend a visit to Pandora's Actor after your lessons are done for the day. Just to help you practice some of your delivery. Remember, people will not always remember what you say, but how you say it."

"Of course... my lord." Harry's response was a bit halting there at the end, mostly because he had to remind himself that his father figure was now acting as in his official station and such familiarity would be disrespectful in front of the other Floor Guardians, "Thank you for your time in this matter."

"Nonsense my boy. You are a part of Nazarick, and I will always make time for the citizens of the Great Tomb. Speaking of time, I do believe that Titus is waiting for your arrival. You are dismissed."

The young wizard from another world bowed deeply to the Overlord, then turned to Demiurge and gave another bow to him. Quietly, Harry and Albedo left the office. After all, it was Albedo's duty as Harry's mother to see her son off to school.

'Motherhood sure has changed Albedo.' Satoru thought to himself, 'It definitely suits her.'

"Now, Demiurge, you needed to see me?"

"Yes my lord." The next moment Demiurge reached out his hand and a small rift of dark space opened. This was accessing one's inventory as seen outside of Yggdrasil.

From the rift, the devilish Floor Guardian produced a deep maroon colored file and handed it to the Overlord.

"I was able to find coverage for both Pandora's Actor and Aureole Omega's positions tomorrow so they may both attend the festivities. Detailed within are the vendors and where they will be set up. I had to stop Solution and Shaltear's idea for a kissing booth. We both know how that would end up."

"Remembering the fiasco that took place during the festival three years ago, I most certainly do."

"Chief Emmot is of course more than happy to let her goblin army assist us in handling security during the event; and is, according to Lupusregina, happy to host the festival again this year."

Ainz skimmed over the details within the folder while Demiurge explained the details within. The Floor Guardian's attention to detail, as always, impressed and pleased the undead.

"All seems to be in order. I would expect nothing less from the creation of my friend Ulbert."

At the praise and mention of his creator's name, Demiurge dropped to one knee,

"Your words are gracious my lord. I was created to fulfill the will of the Supreme Beings. To do their will fulfills my existence."

"Demiurge, you do me and the Tomb a great service. On top of that you take the time to ensure that two of Harry's favorite people in Nazarick are able to attend his birthday celebration. That goes above and beyond what my friend expected you to do; and that deserves praise."

This was a well established dance by now. Ainz would complement one of his subordinates, they try and deny the importance of the deed, then the Overlord would have to come up with some kind of follow up that would make them accept the praise. It took a few times for Ainz to realize this pattern, but once he did he knew he could prepare the right things to say and help his image of being a benevolent Overlord.

"Thank you my lord. There is one other matter that I should bring to your attention. Aureole Omega has informed me of another probing at the barriers that we created after Harry's arrival. According to her, this attempt was stronger than any of the others."

"Does she feel that it may signal an attack?"

"She did not give an opinion my lord. However, the timing would suggest so."

"The timing, Demiurge?"

"At the boy's last examination, his natural born magic seems to be entering a different state than what it was since he first arrived. Less volatile and more malleable. The occurrences of his magical accidents have also entered an all time low, presumably because he has become more emotionally stable. I reviewed the letter from Albus Dumbledore and he mentioned an age when he would again make contact with Harry so he might attend Hogwarts. Assuming that his people actually studied their magic, they would know this already and start their education around this age."

"Thus increasing their need to reclaim him."

"My lord, might I make a suggestion?"

"Go on."

"I would like your permission to shut off the Draw Points within the Tomb of Nazarick for the time being."

The Draw Points were the first of many safety measures developed by Demiurge's studies of Harry's magic. While he couldn't find a way immediately to stop the child from randomly teleporting around the Tomb, he did find a way to control where he ended up. Special obelisks with dwarven runic magic engraved on them could draw teleporters to their location. Having several of these scattered throughout the Tomb helped control where the child would pop up, and keep him from appearing in the more dangerous areas.

"I assume there is more to your plan than disabling Harry's safety net." Ainz was curious as to what the devil had in mind.

"Of course my lord. With the Draw Points within the Tomb disabled, we can amplify the one we have stationed outside. That way, whoever comes won't be drawn to your office, again."

The Overlord of Nazarick brought his hand up and scratched his chin.

"But keeping them out isn't the only plan, right Demiurge?"

The devil in red smiled at his lord's intelligence,

"Indeed not my lord. This could provide us with an opportunity to observe adults that possess Harry's branch of magic. Such a test would provide valuable data to our research."

Demiurge could almost see the wheels turning within his lord's mind. The red glow of Ainz's eyes seemed to intensify as he nodded.

"Very well Demiurge. Proceed with your plan. However, with your preparations, make sure that whoever comes to the Tomb to find Harry is not killed or severely injured in the attempt. After all, it would weaken future negotiations if they lost a life."

"Your will be done my lord."

While the face of Ainz Ooal Gown always seemed to be in a perpetual grin state, Demiurge could have sworn the master's smile grew wide with renewed vigor.

"Let us match the power of Nazarick against the might of Albus Dumbledore."

Privat Drive in Little Whinging could be described as nondescript. A fairly standard street in a fairly standard neighborhood. Though, that status changed about ten years ago near the middle of November. Right after the young family in number four suddenly moved out.

The Dursley family had somehow acquired a large sum of money and were able to sell their suburban home for a far nicer house closer to Mr. Dursley's work. No one was sure how Vernon Dursley had such a windfall bestowed on him, but the woman of the house from number five could have sworn she saw Vernon moving heavy sacks with what sounded like metal in them prior to the Dursley's sudden increase in liquid assets. Thus spurred the rumor that the Dursleys had inherited a sum of gold of all things.

Number four didn't remain on the market for very long. Almost immediately after the sign of "For Sale," was tapped into the front lawn of the former Dursley residence the news came out that the house had been purchased. Everyone was surprised when an old man with a long beard and odd sense of fashion was seen moving in to number four. He kindly introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of a private boarding school up north.

While a bit eccentric, no one really found a reason to truly hate the man. From what "intelligence," the neighborhood had gathered on the mostly absent headmaster, he was a World War II veterin (having been a part of a commando team from what they gathered), before becoming the headmaster of his school. He also seemed to moonlight as a judge (mentioning trials he presided over) and had an odd interest in sweets. While the neighborhood worried for the old man's health, he never seemed to be sick whenever he was around during the summer. In fact, he seemed to give off an energetic grandfather vibe which made a number of the younger children enamored with him. Add the fact he always seemed to have some kind of sweet treat on him and he was a hit with the kids.

He would have a friend of his, a Mr. Croaker, help look after the house during the school year. The man would come by, poke around the house looking for damages or whatever it was he was after, take notes, fix whatever needed fixing and leave. All in all, just a small amount of peculiarity to help fuel the local gossip.

Of course, the non-magical neighborhood never was permitted to suspect what was actually going on within the walls of Number Four.

It all came to a head just short of ten years on a night in late July. An assortment of people dressed in robes and wearing serious expressions gathered in the sitting room that had been cleared of the decoy furniture, instead a cube of bronze, about one meter each way, sat in the middle of the floor. As a clock in the hall struck the hour Albus acknowledged it was time to start. He took a moment to steady himself before looking at the assembled group.

There was of course Saul Croaker, he would be instrumental in the operation tonight. Next there was Alastor Moody, Remus Lupin, Filius Flitwick, Minerva McGonagall, Rubeus Hagrid, Kingsly Shackelbolt, and an indignant Severus Snape. A group of trusted individuals who would be facing the unknown this night.

"Thank you all for coming. Before we get started I would like to take a minute and explain just what we are doing here." Albus began.

"Do keep it brief Dumbledore, we don't want to miss our window of opportunity." Croaker stated, checking his pocket watch while making some last minute spell adjustments to the bronze slab.

"Of course, I will try to keep this quick." A quick clearing cough and Albus began, "Almost ten years ago, Harry Potter was sent to live here with his maternal aunt. However, something happened that caused the boy to vanish from the doorstep before he even made it into the house. After some preliminary examinations of my own, I discovered an anomaly in the spot where Harry was left. A kind of space- time distortion.

"Naturally, this would require further investigation, but it would be hard to do with the occupants of the house being Muggles. So, after some negotiation with the Dursley family," Snape gave an angry snort and looked away from Albus at the mention of said Muggles, "And significant financial loss on my account, I managed to convince them to move away and privately sell me their home. This way, we could have unrestricted access to the house and the anomaly.

"I contacted Saul here, as he is an acquaintance of mine, to research the anomaly and see where it might lead. It has taken many years but Saul has devised a means of following the path of Harry's travel safely."

"Think of it like a portkey that's been programmed to follow the path the Potter boy took." Croaker offered to the group.

"And now we are going to risk life and limb to try and find your lost boy, Headmaster?" Snape inquired with his usual bitterness, "You do realize that he is either dead or not interested in coming back with you, right?"

"Why wouldn't he want to come back? I mean, this is his home after all." Hagrid was a good man, but he was not the brightest among wizards.

"He has spent nearly a decade with whomever has him. He might be more willing to see them as his family then Lily and Potter." Snape retorted.

At the mention of this prospect, Hagrid looked like he was about to lose it. Thankfully for the potions master, Dumbledore intervened on his behalf.

"Be that as it may," Dumbledore countered the former Death Eater, "It is our responsibility to at the very least offer him the choice to learn about his magic."

"Albus. It is time." Croaker announced to the head of the operation.

"Very well. Now, this should function just like a portkey, correct?"

"Aye, just put your hand on it and it will do the rest."

"Alright, everyone. If you'd please."

All the people present shuffled around for a moment, trying to find a good spot to pace a hand on the surface of the bronze block.

"Standby," Croaker announced keeping track on his watch, "Jump in three, two, one-"

A normal portkey gives the user a feeling of a hook behind their navel, pulling them along. The creation of the Unspeakable in contrast felt like a giant had grabbed them and yanked them through a hole the size of a keyhole. Rushing colors and lights passed them by as the enchanted object pulled them along to their destination.

'Don't worry, Harry,' Albus thought to himself, 'We're on our way.'

A/N

Alright, chapter number three and the forces of Dumbledore are on their way to the Tomb of Nazarick. As stated before there was a time skip to move up to the point that I wanted to work with; but, I am almost certain there are those who would want to read about Harry's life in the Tomb growing up. Therefore, if you would like for me to start a spin off depicting those events, please let me know in the comments section.

I'm glad that people are enjoying this and hope to have another chapter out soon. However, the next segment will end up being far more lengthy than anything I have written for this site before. As such, I must ask for your patience as I put together the wizard's invasion of Nazarick. Thank you all for your continued support and I'll talk to you all again soon.

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Noxraa Torgan