A/N: This is my new story, obviously. I've been reading a lot of the Harry Potter and crew read the books stories and got this crazy idea to do one of my own, except with a twist. It will follow canon (mostly) but there will be a lot of things that are different. One of the most obvious will be that this is slash, so if that doesn't interest you, then you might want to go find another story to read. There will be a lot of other changes as well, but I want to keep some things secret. If you would rather know now if something is in the story then feel free to ask me, I will tell you if I can (I don't have every single part of the story planned, just the base details).

Summary: Believing that trusting Harry might not be best, Dumbledore does an ancient unnamed spell meant to spy on the enemy. Hogwarts intervenes when Harry almost dies and brings together hundreds to hear Harry's past, present, and future with some truths that need to be revealed.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Albus Dumbledore sat thinking over his last meeting with Harry Potter. When he had been planning these special lessons he had known the boy would agree with him, of course he would, anything else was unthinkable. Any sane, normal, good person would see the darkness in Tom Riddle, even when he was a child just being around him had been uncomfortable. He knew this, and knew that Harry would see it too. The boy was pure and Light, everything he had hoped and planned for him to be.

Except it didn't go as he had planned.

Harry hadn't seen Tom Riddle as a bully; instead he had almost seemed sympathetic towards the future Dark Lord. The boy hadn't out right said anything of course, but Dumbledore had seen it in his eyes. Those expressive green eyes, so much like his mother's.

That's why he sat in his office just hours after showing Harry yet another memory about Voldemort. There were only a few more memories left before he would need to tell Harry about horcruxes, but he wasn't confident that he could trust Harry Potter with this secret any longer.

There were so many things depending on Harry Potter doing as he was expected, doing as Dumbledore had planned.

Now he just needed another plan to make sure he could tell Harry Potter what must be done. He needed to know if he could trust Harry Potter, but he needed to find out without alerting the boy to his doubts. He had to make sure never to give Harry any reason to betray the Light.

There was only one way he could see going about it, but it was such ancient magic, and he wasn't entirely sure what would happen. The book had said it was a way to spy on an enemy, but it didn't say exactly what happened, in fact it was rather vague. One of the main things that worried him was that the spell had gone out of use fairly quickly according to the book, but it hadn't said why. It hadn't actually said much about the spell, but Dumbledore just knew it would be the perfect way to find out if he could confide in Harry.

There wasn't much of a choice he had though, and he had no fear that anything too terrible would happen, after all, everything he did for the greater good always worked out in the end. This would be no different.

So the next day as everyone at Hogwarts set out for their first classes, Albus Dumbledore was preparing for a unnamed spell he planned to use that very afternoon on an unsuspecting Harry Potter.

Harry pushed the food on his plate around while listening to the conversations around him. Most of the Gryffindors next to him were first or second years, but that never stopped him from paying attention to their conversation. While they might not get told things by the upper years, that didn't mean they never overheard, something that Harry couldn't even do anymore. Every time he stepped into a room with almost every student older then thirteen the room always became uncomfortably silent. Ever since fourth year, it's just had never been the same.

He looked up at the sound of Dumbledore clearing his throat, getting the hall's attention.

There was a twinkle in Dumbledore's eye—which were usually sparkling but now seemed more blurry— so this couldn't be too horrible. Well maybe. Harry didn't really agree with Dumbledore's definition of horrible. But he didn't think the Headmaster would announce anything during the middle of a meal that could be too distressing.

"Boys and girls today we are all in for a treat!" Dumbledore didn't mention that he was going to Obliviate everyone once he was done getting what he needed. If it wasn't for the requirements of the spell, he would be the only one that would even know he was doing the spell. "This afternoon I discovered a spell that would allow us to hear about the adventures of our very own Harry Potter."

Students' reactions varied but Harry noticed most were the same as his; curiosity and anger. He wasn't surprised that most of the Gryffindor students were the angriest, especially Ron who Harry could hear muttering, "Of course we are, couldn't have our precious Boy-Who-Lived not receiving any more praise."

Personally Harry had no clue what Dumbledore was talking about, but that didn't stop him from feeling extremely angry. Was he expected to stand in front of everyone and tell them about every time he almost died? He would never agree to something like that, and Harry knew Dumbledore knew that. So what was the old man up to? He had a really bad feeling about this. Maybe Dumbledore was stupid enough to do something in front of everyone.

"Now, Mr. Potter I will need your assistance with the first part." Seeing Harry's look of alarm, Dumbledore decided to clarify, this will go much smoother if the boy came willingly—for this part at least. If not, well, he had no qualms about compelling Harry to do what was needed. It wouldn't be the first time and no one needed to know that Harry hadn't willingly agreed to this. "I just need a drop of your blood, my boy."

Dumbledore ignored the cries of alarm at the mention of blood from the students and even some teachers. Everyone knew that spells requiring the blood of someone else were dark, whether it was willingly or not.

Harry was frozen in his seat though. His blood! Why would the Headmaster need his blood? What kind of spell was this?

"I don't think—,"he couldn't finish his sentence though. He couldn't control his own body. Suddenly words appeared in his mind, words that he could hear himself saying, but had no idea how. "—I have a problem doing that. You know I would help anyway I can Headmaster." He felt a smile forming on his face as he stood up and walked to Dumbledore, struggling the entire way, but whatever had taken control of his body wasn't giving up. No doubt Dumbledore had done something— again.

His first thought was Imperius, but he knew he could overcome that. No this felt entirely different. There had been no warning, no time to fight. Harry felt completely helpless, something that he thought he would never feel again after third year.

Dumbledore was smiling at him confidently, like he had no doubt that Harry would do as he asked. He took the small pocket knife from Dumbledore, sliced his palm and spread his blood over the blank parchment that was in front of him. His movements were smooth but felt unnatural; he hadn't even felt any pain when he had cut himself. To him this was worse than the Imperius.

Dumbledore was talking again, "Everyone please be quiet. This will require the utmost silence; if you cannot control yourselves then I have no problem doing it for you." He sounded as he always did, calm and soothing, like a gentle grandfather doting on his grandchild, no matter that he just threatened every student and teacher in the school. Harry had no doubt that if the ghosts were present he would find a way to quiet them as well. Everyone stopped talking almost at once; they all seemed to sense that the Headmaster wasn't acting like his normal self. "Thank you, now Harry my boy, if you could keep your hand on the parchment, yes like that, perfect." Of course it was perfect; Harry wasn't controlling himself, because if he was, he most definitely wouldn't be allowing this to continue—for many reasons.

Pointing his wand at the parchment, Dumbledore began the first part of the spell. "Revelaminioccultapraeterita.Revelaresecretaest.Revelaminiarcanafuturi.DicendumquodnecesseRevelamini." Now all he needed was to get Harry to say it as well and then he could finish the beginning and start the second part.

Harry was talking again, repeating what Dumbledore had just said. He had no idea what any of it meant. He was beginning to wish he had listened and not returned this year, none of this would be happening.

Harry could feel the magic in the air after repeating the spell, but it felt unfinished.

Dumbledore felt when Harry's magic was released in the air, so much magic. His skin was tingling from the feeling; it was unlike anything he had ever felt. Not even his own magic was this potent. This was when it was vital that everything was silent and still. He had released his own magic just as the spell said, only seconds before Harry. His magic alone would have been similar to a very powerful calming draught, but combined with Harry's he was certain many of the weaker students will succumb to their drowsy state and fall asleep.

When he felt he had allowed enough of the magic to penetrate the entire room, he began the second and final step.

Someone was whispering in Harry's mind again. Telling him words to say.

"Vi patiar inimicum meum ut scirem mea praeterita, praesentia et futura. Vi do usus sanguinis. Vi mea auxiliator meus hostis justo."

When Harry finished talking it was like he had been woken from a long sleep where he had been conscious of everything around him but not really sure what exactly happened. He looked around the Great Hall to see if anyone had been stopped trying to help him, but everyone seemed to be in some kind of haze. Dumbledore seemed to be preoccupied with a piece of parchment with what seemed to be blood on it—with a jolt Harry realized it was his blood. The awful feeling of knowing something but not understanding consumed him and he wanted nothing more than to be anywhere but there. Intending to go sit back down, if only to not be standing in front of everyone when they became aware again, Harry started walking to the Gryffindor table, but he didn't make it because not even a minute after he woke from his dazed state the world turned black and Harry knew nothing else.

The second time Harry Potter woke up was to a very different Great Hall.

There were people everywhere. Not just students, but others too. He couldn't tell who or what anything was. Everyone was wearing black cloaks and talking loudly over everyone else. There seemed to be more adults then students now, but they weren't the only new additions. There were people too big to be human—maybe giants—and then others that were too small to be anything other than a house-elf or goblin. No one seemed to know what was going on, or even how they came to be there.

Harry knew though. It was that spell that Harry was forced to do; something that Dumbledore said would share his adventures. He had a terrible feeling though, that Dumbledore hadn't meant for this to happen, in fact he highly doubted the Headmaster even knew exactly what the spell did. Harry just couldn't see Dumbledore wanting to share so many things—many of which were the old man's fault—to a room filled with people who he had no control over.

The entire Great Hall had changed as well. Gone were the teacher and house tables, instead there was one chair in the front of the hall, and then at least a hundred more facing it. Sitting next to the individual chair was a small side table, and on it was a glowing book.

Many people were trying to approach the chair with little success. There seemed to be some kind of barrier or ward around it. Harry continued to take in his surroundings, hoping to find someone he could recognize from size and shape alone.

There was one person in particular he was trying to find, but he was having very little success. When he fainted, or fell asleep, or whatever happened he had been at the front of the hall. When he woke up, he was laying where the Hufflepuff table used to be.

He really wished he knew what happened.

On the other side of the room, Dumbledore was having very similar thoughts. This was nothing like the spell explained. Nowhere had it mentioned people appearing, people disappearing, furniture being removed or added, and it most definitely never mentioned a glowing book protected by a ward that even he couldn't penetrate.

There had been directions, which he had followed perfectly—he had added few things of course and changed others, but he knew he had improved the spell— and that was all. There was of course the very vague explanation of what the spell did, and its intended purpose. Then the brief history of when the spell was used and that had been even shorter than the instructions. All in all there was barely half a page about the spell, but Dumbledore had thought he could control anything unexpected that might happen.

Unfortunately he had been wrong, very wrong.

The original intent of the original spell had not been to spy as Dumbledore had believed, instead it had been a spell used when finalizing a marriage contract. The purpose was to make sure the future bride had remained pure and that she would not bring shame towards her future family. After having too many pureblood families contest the marriage over the things as tedious as the bride having been fat as a child—after all her genes were inadequate— or having held the hand of her brother—who was to say that she was still pure—, the use of the spell fell out of practice.

Over time, like with many other spells, someone thought they could approve it for their own purposes. In 1578 a wife who had found her husband cheating had taken the spell, switched a few words, and used it on her husband's mistress. She told her friends afterwards the success of finding enough blackmail material to make sure the woman never went near her husband again. The witch's friends began using it against suspected mistresses, husbands, even their children.

The spell's adapted version had only been known by word of mouth. Mother's told their daughters, but never their sons. Soon enough there weren't any more mothers' that knew to tell their daughters. It had never been written down until 1768 when a daughter found her mother's diary from when she was a girl. Her mother had described a spell that she thought barbaric that her mother had told her, a spell used against revenge. The girl was writing a book about spells every witch should know, and she included it. Within a year, wizard and witch alike had reintroduced the spell into the wizarding world, only this time it was used for spying instead of revenge. The almost impossibility of correctly completing the spell had the spell falling out of use within five years.

Of course Dumbledore knew none of this. The book he had gotten the spell out of was a book from 1800's that had uncommon spells in it that was more for information then actual practical use.

Knowing that spells could be changed to suit one's own purpose—if they knew how to do it correctly—Dumbledore had changed the spell from the book, a spell he had ignorantly thought was the original.

He had known Harry wouldn't willingly give his blood or corporation, so he had tweaked the spell so it would work, even with Harry not doing it of his own free will.

With the drastic changes of an unknown already tampered with spell the results would have been fatal if not for the interference of Hogwarts. The castle had known of the original spell, and seen its results multiple times. All that the original spell provided the caster was any wrong deeds done by the target of the spell. At first it was just whether the bride was pure and worthy of the family, but then the families found out that they could determine how much information was provided by just thinking of what they wanted to know.

When the scorned witch had changed the original spell, what the spell could do changed as well. With just the blood of the target a witch could find out every misdeed of the victim for the past, present, and the future. It was easy and simple, yet caused so much damage. Hogwarts had been devastated by the destruction that the spell had caused inside her walls and been happy to never feel its magic again.

Dumbledore though had found the spell and twisted it completely that Hogwarts had watched in disgust as he unknowingly sentence Harry Potter to death. He had not just been using Harry's magic, but his life force. Harry Potter would have lived eternity in those books that told the tale of a life he once lived, was living, and was suppose to live.

It wasn't even that simple though either.

Dumbledore had changed the entire purpose of the spell into not only finding out the past, present, and future of Harry Potter but untold truths concerning him as well. No version of the spell had required for anything to be told that needed to be revealed even to the person whose blood fueled the spell.

Others would have had been affected as well; were affected until Hogwarts stepped in and changed the spell almost entirely.

She had no problem with truths being told, or the life of Harry Potter to be revealed. Yes, the Potter heir would no doubt be uncomfortable with so many of his secrets being revealed, but his secrets weren't the only ones that needed to come to light. So many others had secrets that concerned the poor boy, but were unwilling to tell him.

So when Hogwarts saw her chance, she took it. Gathering everyone living that touched young Harry Potter's life in some way as the spell dictated in the past, present, and future and making them hear about the boy who most of them believed had to save them. Some in the hall didn't see the boy as a weapon though, but they too were vital to his story and she had made sure to include them as well.

Some of the wizards were harder to reach then others, but they were all here now.

Hogwarts watched as they all shifted around, hidden behind black cloaks, trying to find out what was happening. None will until she deemed it time.

Harry started becoming restless. He had thought he felt someone whose magic felt incredibly familiar, but he wasn't able to move more than five steps in either direction. It wasn't even just him who seemed to be having a problem, it was everyone. It wasn't just moving. Harry couldn't even speak his name, or remove the cloak, every time he tried he was silenced and the hood wouldn't budge.

Suddenly the entire room was silenced.

"One should never mess with unknown magic, you especially should know that Albus Dumbledore! Was Ariana not enough payment for the cost of your foolish pride?" A booming voice roared. Harry felt like he could hear the voice in his mind, his magic, his soul. It felt like it was surrounding him, inside of him. "Harry Potter would have died if I had not interfered. Where would you have been then Dumbledore?"

Harry felt numb. He was going to die. He would have died. What had Dumbledore been doing? Had he meant to kill Harry?

Dumbledore felt numb, but for an entirely different reason. The boy would have died. What would he have done without his weapon? Hogwarts mentioning his sister didn't even register to him, his guilt over her stumbling into one of his experiments had long past.

"I have seen the effects of that spell, every variation of that spell. Once meant to find a brides worth, turned into a wife's revenge on a cheating husband. Neither spell was meant to be used by forcing the target or revealing more than their life. You asked beyond what Harry knew, you asked for far too much."

Dumbledore disagreed though. He had worked hard to get the spell perfectly right, to find out exactly what he wanted. If the boy was more powerful, or had more knowledge then he would had been safe, and no interference would have been needed.

He disregarded the fact that Harry's magic had been greater then even his own.

"His life force would have been consumed inside the book, making him live forever as written words. Other's life force would have been affected as well. Harry Potter is not omniscient; he would not know every little thing about himself. So now you must live with the results."

Harry had to wonder what exactly the voice meant by that. How had they affected the spell? In what way was the spell changed? There was obviously still a book, but now it sounded like it wasn't just about his life.

"Anyone who has been affected Harry Potter past, present and future and is still living is inside this room. No one will be able to harm another while in this room. If you have not figured it out, I am Hogwarts and while in my walls you will do as I say. It is why you cannot speak, or cannot move further then I allow. I will be assigning you your seats as well. Most of you act like children, so you will be treated as such." Many in the room felt like this was intended towards Dumbledore, who Hogwarts seemed quite angry with. "Each chair will have a name engraved on it; you will only be able to see your own name. I will release your movements now, but only to move to your chair. If any of you try anything, you will find I am not very forgiving."

Harry felt his limbs become his once again, not even have realized that they were heavier then was normal before. He looked towards the closest chair but didn't see his name. Looking around at other chairs he noticed the same. Maybe if he just moved into the front of the room and looked for the one different chair, after all his would be the only one he saw a difference in.

He found his chair—right next to where the Slytherin table used to be. The chairs on either side of him had already been filled. Whoever it was had familiar magic, and Harry felt safe knowing that whoever it was, was someone he was comfortable around.

It took ten more minutes for everyone else to find their seats. Someone, who he thought might be Hermione, was one of the last to find their chairs after having been trying for the first five minutes to get to the glowing book. It was only a guess, after all, but the hood was extremely poofy looking and he didn't know anyone else who would be so determined to get to a book. Well, no one stupid enough to try after being threatened by Hogwarts.

"Good. Now the Sorting Hat will be joining us." The hat materialized on the chair behind the ward. "He will be telling you who will be reading each chapter. You have no choice if you are chosen, you will read. Now I will be lifting the silencing spell and removing the cloaks, so prepare." Hogwarts almost sounded amused, if it was even possible for an ancient castle to be amused. "Oh, and if you become an annoyance then I will silence you again."

The room was instantly filled with noise. Neighbors were looking to see who was sitting near them, trying to find family, and enemies.

Harry was busy doing the same.

Shock could not even begin to describe his reaction to the person on his left though. Sirius! Right before he was going to launch himself on the man he noticed something wrong. The man looked like Sirius, except not. Sirius' eyes were darker, bluer. His hair was shaggier too; the man's was smoother, curly even. The more he looked the more differences he noticed, until finally he looked at the man's arm and noticed the Dark Mark. Sirius definitely never had that.

"Who are you?" He asked, hoping the man would answer.

"Regulus Black." The man answered and confused Harry even more. Wasn't Regulus Black dead? Sirius had said his brother had died, but apparently not. "Might I ask who you are?" He asked politely.

Harry just stared. No one, not since he had come to the wizarding world had asked him his name. They always recognized him. 'Oh you have your mother's eyes.' 'Can I touch your scar?' 'Your father had the same glasses, what a coincidence.' It was always the same. His eyes, scar, glasses, even his stupid hair, everyone was always the same. Well except for one other person, but he was special.

The man seemed to be more amused than angry that Harry was staring at him like he was some sort of creature he couldn't identify and decide whether it was safe or dangerous to approach. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, um, yeah." Harry mumbled embarrassed, looking down at his hands. He looked back up to see Sirius' not so dead brother looking at him still, probably expecting Harry to introduce himself. "Harry, my name's Harry Potter."

The man's stare just seemed to intensify. "Nice to meet you." Regulus said neutrally.

"Nice to meet you too." Harry mumbled, not comfortable with the way Regulus was still looking at him. He had questions he wanted to ask, but knew they wouldn't be polite. Maybe this was one of the secrets Hogwarts was talking about? He would just need to wait and find out.

Turning to his other side to see who was on his right, Harry almost jumped out of his chair when he saw who it was. Sitting right next to him was none other than Tom Riddle!

"Bloody hell!" He yelled out, unintentionally getting the attention of people nearby.

"So nice to see you as well Harry." Tom was smirking; smirking with a real mouth. He even had a nose! "Quite the little gathering we seem to be having and you seem to be the guest of honor."

"You have a nose!" He squeaked out. A real nose! Then it got scary—at least to Harry—Voldemort laughed. Not some evil cackle, but full out laughing. Others that were sitting around them were laughing too. He even thought he heard his favorite laugh of all close by, but he'll look into that later. Right now he had to figure out why the once giant snake-man was snake-man no more.

"Yes. You seem to have one too." He was still smirking—with his real mouth. A real mouth that was next to a nose.

"How?" Harry wasn't even trying to sound even semi-intelligent, which Voldemort seemed to find funny. "You're supposed to be a snake-man!"

Voldemort actually had the audacity to smile at him like he was some kind of child, showing a mouth full of perfect teeth. None of them even seemed too pointy. "This is my first form. As you adequately put it, snake-man, is my second form, the one I usually use when I am being seen as the Dark Lord." That made sense, but why would anyone want to spend any time at all being so hideous? Surely someone as arrogant as Voldemort found it distasteful. Voldemort must have sensed what I was thinking. "It is sometimes easier to scare someone then to ask nicely."

Harry just rolled his eyes. "That makes absolutely no sense." Voldemort just continued to smile at him.

Harry thought it was probably a good thing that he was still in shock from almost dying early. He wasn't sure what his normal reaction would have been to finding out a dead man was alive and snake-man wasn't even real.

Instead of trying to find out who else he was seated by, Harry thought it safer to just look to the front of the room where the Sorting Hat was oddly silent, probably waiting for everyone to quiet down. The Sorting Hat wouldn't be waiting any longer though, because apparently Hogwarts had enough and silenced everyone once again.

"Now that you have all been seated, I think it's time to start reading. I am going to remove the silencing spell from you once again, this time I hope you understand the need to be quiet. Now who is your first choice Azazel?" Who knew the Sorting Hat actually had a name?

"Sirius Black!"

Part One: Revelamini occulta praeterita. Revelare secreta est. Revelamini arcana futuri. Dicendum quod necesse Revelamini.

Translation: Reveal the secrets of the past. Reveal the secrets of the present. Reveal the secrets of the future. Reveal all that needs to be told.

Part Two: Vi patiar inimicum meum ut scirem mea praeterita, praesentia et futura. Vi do usus sanguinis. Vi mea auxiliator meus hostis justo.

By force I allow my enemy to know my past, present, and future. By force I allow the use of my blood. By force my magic will help my enemy.

Azazel (The Sorting Hat's name) means sort