Disclaimer: Questions are asked by those who think, Answers are found by those who seek, and Opinions are formed by those can do neither.

I do not own Harry Potter.

Questioning the nuances of conscious and existence while lounging in their office chairs was a common theme among the researchers at the Department of Mysteries. Harry Potter thought himself above such musings.

He lost interest in any metaphysical concepts when three objects of suspicious lineage landed in his lap and promptly declared him their master. He should have known that his tryst with fate wouldn't end with his education. Or was it tryst with death? He didn't know which entity he hated more.

So he thought about Perenelle's delicious chocolate chip cookies, the atrocious weather in London at the moment, the odd feeling that someone was tapping his shoulder…

He opened his eyes with reluctance and subtly tried to close them to pretend he was asleep when he noticed the visitor. But the people in the department were far too observant for their own good.

"I know you're awake, Mr. Potter," a female voice said in the trademarked monotone of the researchers. It grated on his ears like the rattling of tracks when a train moved.

"I can't convince you otherwise?" Harry gave a charming smile and lost it when he evoked no reaction from her. Tough crowd. Either Sirius was fibbing about how the dog animagus's roguish smile bagged him a dozen witches at school or Harry was truly hopeless at this flirting thing.

"The head has requested your presence," she intoned as she turned on her heels and glanced back, looking for all intents like she expected him to follow. He had half a mind to go back to sleep if only to annoy the woman.

"What does that fossil want now?" He stretched and ruffled his hair to make it seem like he wasn't dozing off in office hours – It was a lost cause.

She gave him a sharp glance out of the corner of her eyes at his blatant disrespect, which he ignored with an ease that only came with practice. "I assume he wants to discuss your latest report on the Veil."

Harry cursed and braced himself for an hour of ear-splitting, self-incriminating tirade. His last month was less productive than his defense class in the fifth year and that was saying something. "How bad is it?"

She thought for a moment and Harry's hopes for a peaceful afternoon took a nosedive. The silence was the harbinger of bad omens and unpleasant headaches. "He canceled all appointments for the next two hours."

Harry hung his head like a prisoner on his way to the execution grounds, devoid of all happiness and radiating despair. The woman walking beside him disregarded his antics like a professional should but Harry could sense an underlying hint of amusement. "If I survive this, shall we go out for coffee? Like a celebration of life, my treat."

She stared at him like he was an alien creature to experiment on. "You are a peculiar one, Mr. Potter."

Apparently, the subtleties of modern relationship were lost on this woman. Not that he could blame her. Most of the people in the department resemble over-productive drones than living, breathing humans after they delve too deep into their research. He was an oddity in that regard; which he'd always been no matter where he went. "I don't hear a 'no'."

But his destination arrived before she could respond and Harry gave a jaunty wave to mask his anxiety as he slipped into the office of the Head of the Department, leaving the woman to stare after him like he was a particularly interesting specimen.

There were but a few things that could terrify the Master of Death. Most of them were either dealt with or dead.

To Harry's ever going consternation, Nicholas Flamel could neither be dealt with nor killed. He knew because he tried a few times and failed hilariously, according to the aforementioned Flamel. These days it became a hobby of sorts for him to come up with ingenious ways to off the immortal alchemist. He wouldn't stoop so low as to use an unforgivable but he was close. Whoever said that wielder of the Elder wand could bring upon the death of any opponent never encountered an immortal who was also the head of a department that dabbled in archaic magic.

"Do try to put some effort into your work after you're done moping," Nicholas remarked with an abundance of sarcasm as he read the project report submitted by Harry a few hours ago. "The last time I read a report so disappointing was after you and your merry band of friends infiltrated my department and wrecked half the equipment."

Harry would've released a long-suffering sigh if he didn't know that it would only further the tongue-lashing. "After the first few weeks of success, the veil stopped giving any reaction to our attempts. It would've been suspicious if it wasn't always like that."

Nicholas hummed in thought, as though he was about to impart profound wisdom. "It's probably tired of your excuses as I am."

Harry closed his eyes and bore the insults with the guise of man long immune to them. In his mind, he was already planning his next murder attempt on the fossil who should by all rights be dead by now but still wasn't. "We are doing our best, sir."

Nicholas waved it off like he hadn't heard it and continued to give his remarks. "If you're not done with this project by this month, I will personally see your transfer to a different project. We've wasted enough time and money on this as it is."

Harry tried to protest but a stern glance from the man cut him off. He knew he was the only one in the department who had any hope of achieving results from the research on the veil. Greater scholars than him have tried and failed. He had begged the head for years before he was allowed to experiment and even then, it was only because the veil had shown a reaction for the first time in centuries. To him. It fluttered like a curtain billowing in the wind and its presence amplified until the few Unspeakables behind collapsed into unconsciousness. The whole death room that housed the ethereal object darkened and shimmered like a pale diamond in the night, with its effects far-reaching through the whole department.

Through it all, Harry stood death-still like a man possessed while the hallows on his person shivered and sang like they had found a long-lost relative. Only when he went to bed that night did he realize what he felt in that room that made him freeze. Yearning.

From that day he spent every living moment examining the veil but other than rare flutters in his presence, the veil was disconcertingly silent. He was once both furious and terrified of the veil - when he was a student at Hogwarts and the veil had taken from him the only man he had ever thought of as family. A decade had passed since and only fascination remained.

He was shaken out of his reverie by the sound of Nicholas placing the report none too gently on the table. "Whatever you had done at the beginning for the Veil to react, you better hope it works again."

With that final statement, Nicholas steepled his fingers and went back to ponder about whatever old men did in their offices. Heeding the unspoken dismissal, Harry rose out of his seat and ambled out of the room with a tired gait, something the woman standing out the door didn't fail to notice. "Unpleasant, I presume?"

"Sometimes I wonder why I don't mutiny," Harry commented without any bite in his tone. "The pay isn't good enough for me to bear the rants of this senile bastard."

She didn't give an answer, not that he was expecting her to. He knew why he loved to work here. His life lost the challenge that was in abundance during his stay at Hogwarts. While he hated the ever-existent threat to his life, he learned after graduation that there were more unpleasant things in the world than a madman out for your life. He was not fit to work in the ministry, ripe with political games, currying favors, and backstabbing. There was not a person who didn't know of him in wizarding Britain but with fame comes both the pleasant things and the things that made him think if these people really were worth saving. His volatile state of mind was one of the reasons why he came to love solitude. The wizarding world was always wary of him becoming the next dark lord and he was not eager to make their fears a reality.

The Department of Mysteries was an answer to all his hopes. A place where people hardly cared about social niceties, filled with unseen mysteries, and where one's worth was determined by their research. Not that he hated companionship. He was an unmarried man in his prime and the body wants what it wants.

He took the turn to his office when the woman beside him halted and faced his opposite side. "I believe the cafeteria is this way."

Judging by the grin on his face, nobody could've known that he was sulking and contemplating mutiny a few moments ago. "Lead the way, my lady."

As usual, the cafeteria was near deserted with one or two lone souls occupying the corner tables – coffee break was a time that could be spent tinkering with their experiments, so why bother? He sipped his beverage, watching his companion over the rim of his cup. Not much of her face was visible due to the ever-present hood that covered most of her features except the lips and the chin. From what he could discern, she has an angular face, fair skin, and full, red lips. The hood was common among the employees but Harry, as was expected, ignored such customs with extreme prejudice.

Catching his glances, the woman quirked her lips and removed her hood to reveal a blond-haired, blue-eyed witch of his age or younger. She was beautiful by any standards, with her lustrous hair flowing down to her shoulders and eyes that glinted with intelligence. "You can stop staring now, Potter."

Harry blinked and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Ah, sorry. I wasn't expecting you to be so..."

"Young?"

"Beautiful," let it never be said he was hesitant to speak his mind. Some people called it running his mouth off but he begged to differ.

"That's surprising," she said airily but she had a pleased smile on her face. "You never did notice me at school."

Harry chuckled at her joke but frowned in confusion when he noticed that she wasn't amused. "What?"

"I'm Daphne Greengrass. We're in the same year," at the blank look on his face, she elaborated. "I was in Slytherin."

"That makes sense," Harry said triumphantly but waved his hands in apology at her glare. It's no secret that he didn't love socializing and it was apparent from his time at Hogwarts. No one of his fame would have fewer friends than the fingers on his hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you but another blond from your house took too much of my attention."

She nodded, realizing who he was talking about in an instant. The feud between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter was the stuff of legends and was a constant source of entertainment for her. The rumors about their supposed preferences and forbidden love didn't help matters. "You never did stay far from Granger or Weasely."

The names of his best friends brought a plethora of unpleasant feelings but he managed to conceal the frown that crossed his face. Knowing that this conversation was treading into dangerous territories, he shifted the topic. "Let's forget about school. Since when do you work here?"

"I joined a few months ago," she said. Her tone was nonchalant but he could detect a hint of pride under the apathy. "I work with the time chamber and other related things."

"Oh, you must be the cute new recruit everyone was talking about," Harry nodded to himself, pleased with his discovery. He looked up to see her quirking a brow at him with a sharp look in her eyes and only then did he realize that he shot off his mouth again. With a sheepish smile, he ran a hand through his hair. "So, working in the department must be interesting, huh?"

She gave him a glance to convey that he was still not off the hook and spoke, "It is. It's an ambition of mine and it's fortunate that I am working on the field I am most fascinated with. The time chamber is everything I expected and more."

"Think you can steal a time turner for me?" Harry asked jokingly. "I am desperate for one, what with all the deadlines."

"I can but I don't have enough magic to power it, Potter," she replied with a shrug. "All the activated ones are strictly regulated."

"What?"

"You can only use one after you activate the pixie dust in it with magic," she explained at his lost look. "We generally do it with gems that have power stored in them. The larger the time turner, the bigger the threshold and the more power it takes to activate it."

It's as though a light bulb went on in his head. Activate it with magical power. If the Veil acts the same as any other magical object, then even it must have a threshold for its activation. Did anyone ever try to supply it with power? Why did he never think of it?

Unaware of his sudden revelation, Daphne continued. "Enough about me. How is it that you're here? I thought you wanted to be an Auror."

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to find her waiting for his answer. He would've given one if he heard her question. "Daphne, you're brilliant!"

She seemed taken aback by his abrupt compliment, with a light dusting of red on her pale cheeks. Usually, she was pretty composed and the plenty of compliments she received on a daily basis made her apathetic to any praises she might receive. But this was Harry Potter and he was not known for a handing out compliments freely. The abruptness of the said compliment only furthered her blush. "If this is your attempt at flattering me..."

"No, no, no," he laughed heartily. She looked so different from her Slytherin persona with that cute blush that he couldn't help but stare at her in fascination. "I can do better than that. But what were you asking?"

She gave him a scrutinizing look before talking again. "You wanted to be an Auror, right? How come you became a researcher?"

Harry shifted in his chair into a comfortable position, knowing that this tale was a long one. "It all started when I heard that this fossil, I mean, Nicholas is still alive. Very surprising, I know. I had to apologize to him for something I did in my first year, don't ask what..."

Considering how enraptured she was the whole time, he really did spin a wonderful tale. It's a shame that most of it was a lie. He should have listened to the hat when it said that he'd prosper in Slytherin.

"You're late," was the first thing he heard when he entered the mansion.

The woman waiting for him could be considered an unnatural beauty, with her flawless skin, voluptuous, hourglass figure and eyes that shone like diamonds. Her hair and eye color changed with how you viewed her and currently, she was a redheaded, blue-eyed woman to him. It's a crime that she was married to the one man he hated the most.

"Sorry, Penny," Harry mumbled in exhaustion as he collapsed into a chair at the dining table. He and Daphne had talked long into the evening and then being the gentleman he was, he offered to take her to dinner. He didn't know who was more surprised when she said yes. "I was out..."

"On a date?" she asked in reflex. It was a long-standing hope of hers to see him settle with a family and provide her with some grandkids. As was the case with powerful artifacts, the constant intake of the elixir of life came with a price. She could never give birth to a child and even after centuries, she was pained by that fact.

For the first time, Harry answered with an affirmative. "Kind of?"

Her eyes lit up with excitement and she didn't rest until she harangued every detail from him. After the recounting of his day, she sat beside him and hummed in contemplation. "Daphne Greengrass, huh? I conversed with her a few times, I think. Quite the beauty, with a sharp wit. You couldn't have hoped for a better woman. You asked for a second date, right?"

"No?" Harry admitted and cringed under her disapproving look. "But I'm sure she wouldn't say no if I asked. I'll be on that."

"Good," she huffed, with her arm crossed. She was too used to getting what she wants, Harry thought with a sigh. "But that doesn't explain why you're so tired."

"Ah," Harry leaned back into the chair with a sigh. "The fossil was on my case today."

"Does it hurt you show him some respect?" she asked without rancor.

"Does it hurt him to not be a pain in the ass?" he countered.

"Why, in fact, it does," a voice came from the doorway and in an instant, Harry threw the plate in front of him at the man. But the man transfigured it mid-air into a rose and gave it to Perenelle with a smile. "For you, my dear."

Perenelle accepted the flower with an amused smile, used to the antics of the two men in her life. Harry stabbed his fork into the vegetables and fumed in silence. He was all but adopted into the Flamel family and the only thing stopping him from committing patricide was the loving presence of Perenelle. The fossil was lucky he married such a woman.

The dinner went on with the usual fanfare and arguments between him and Nicholas, while Perenelle played the role of the peacemaker with all the patience of an immortal. It was mid-way that his thoughts went back to the Veil and the recent revelation that made his day. "I want power."

"Don't bother," Nicholas replied without a moment of thought. "You're going to become the worst dark lord in history and be an even bigger embarrassment than you already are to me."

"Do whatever you want but I'll be very cross with you if you forget about that Daphne girl," Perenelle added her two cents. Her concern for morals and human life was awe-inspiring.

Harry rolled his eyes and made a valiant effort to stab himself with a fork and die. "You two make the worst role-models for any kid."

Perenelle sniffed and not-so-subtly glared at him. Harry made a note to himself to check the food for poisons the next time. "I have an idea that might work and give a breakthrough with the veil. But I don't know how much power I need for it. Definitely more power than what I have by my estimates."

All traces of amusement vanished from Nicholas's face and a moment later, Harry was looking at the Head of the Department. "How sure are you about this?"

"Best shot I have at this," Harry replied honestly and Nicholas hummed in thought. He didn't know if the Flamels could aid him with this but they're surely the best people to consult on the matter.

Perenelle, who was listening from the sidelines, voiced her thoughts. "How about the elixir of life? A vial of it will provide enough energy to create miracles."

Nicholas was considered the greatest alchemist in history not just for this brains but also his resources. Alchemy was an energy-intensive field and most alchemists lack the power to make any successful leaps in their research. But with the discovery of the Sorcerer's stone, Nicholas got himself a power source so vast that it lasted centuries since its discovery.

Nicholas met his wife's gaze and silent conversation passed between their eyes. At Nicholas's nod, she rose from her seat to vanish down the stairs, while Harry looked at the both of them in confusion. His doubts were answered a moment later when Perenelle returned with a vial of glowing red liquid and its presence itself was enough to make his hairs stand in primal caution.

"Th-that's..." Harry stammered as Perenelle handed him the vial with a smirk on her face.

"Elixir of life," Nicholas answered, mirroring the smirk on his wife's face. "Did you really think we'd hand over the sorcerer's stone to Albus for protection? He might be the greatest wizard of the century but I have centuries of experience to back up my power. If I so wanted to protect the stone, I'd keep it to myself."

"Then the one in Gringotts..." Harry chuckled in disbelief as everything fell into place. Why would Dumbledore place protections so simple that three first-year students could best them? Why would Nicholas keep the stone in Gringotts despite knowing about the goblins' greed for gold? How is it Nicholas and Perenelle were still alive despite the destruction of the stone? "It was a fake from the start."

"The whole thing was a ruse to capture Voldemort," Nicholas answered the unasked question.

"Then my apology for destroying the stone and almost killing you?" Harry glowered at the smug old man sitting in front of him.

"You apologizing on your knees was very funny."

The veil be damned, Harry had half a mind to drink the elixir and use the power to off the old coot. Noticing his raging fury, Perenelle smacked Nicholas on the head to wipe the smug grin. "Must you antagonize him?"

"Don't tell me you don't find his temper tantrums hilarious?" Nicholas talked like he couldn't even comprehend what Perenelle was asking of him. "That time he set a nundu loose in my office was the best one."

Only Nicholas could find the attempts on his life to be funny.

Harry huffed as he rose from his seat and pocketed the veil. His apparent anger at the alchemist did give him a valid escape. "I'm going to take a walk."

Perenelle gave a nod and Harry heard a steely voice berating Nicholas as he walked away. "You're sleeping on the couch tonight for this."

"What did I do?"

"He didn't even eat dinner!"

"He probably ate on his date with my cute assistant."

"Doesn't matter. He's a growing boy, and what do you mean 'cute?' Is there any other reason you took her as your assistant?"

"O-of course not!"

The moment he stepped outside the mansion, Harry apparated directly to the department of mysteries. The one person he found there gave him a nod and left him to his own devices without much fuss; There were advantages to having anti-social colleagues. The narrow corridors and dark tiles seemed ominous as he trudged down the halls to the death chamber. There was an anticipation in the air that he couldn't place, as though the veil knew what he was there for and was as eager as he was. That thought didn't comfort him.

The ring on his finger pulsed with agitation as he entered the chamber, giving a pearly glimmer that betrayed its true heritage. The stone of resurrection looked as innocuous as it was deadly. Beneath his clothes, his ever-present companion, the cloak of invisibility slithered over his skin like an affectionate snake and he didn't need a seer to guess that his elder wand would appear in his pocket again without his permission. Again.

He had theories – none of them concrete – as to why the hallows made their presence known to the veil every time he entered the chamber. The creations of death might be acknowledging another of their kind for all he knew but the connection between his hallows and the veil was clear as day to him. His hallows? He didn't know when he started considering them as his and not as harbingers of death they were. The fact that all of these revelations started bombarding his mind now was not helping.

With every step in its direction, the veil's anticipation grew like a rising tide and he could feel it caressing his frame when he finally stood in front of it. Harry fingered the vial of elixir resting in his pocket and with one last glance at the ethereal door, he gulped the contents of the vial.

It tasted suspiciously like blood and he was certain he heard somewhere that brewing the elixir of life takes blood magic. He didn't know they meant it so literally. The liquid slipped down his throat, scalding everything in its way and Harry felt its complete effects when it entered the bloodstream. His veins popped out of his skin, looking a garish red instead of the usual green and his nerves felt like they were melting. Every single part of his body burned like he was stuck in a torrent of fiendfyre cast by Voldemort with the elder wand. His tissues and organs tore and healed themselves within a fraction of seconds, revitalizing his body or to be precise, building it anew. All throughout the process, he was frozen still, feeling like he could destroy cities while not being able to lift a finger.

His magical aura bubbled like a volcano, glowing like the sun with a deep emerald hue. In response, the veil fluttered like an ebullient child and its soft caress turned into a smothering hug. His heart thudded in his chest, warning him of something he couldn't comprehend and with typical Gryffindor bullheadedness, he disregarded it. The elder wand appeared in his hand with a thought and Harry pointed its tip at the veil.

He had never cast pure magic of such intensity before but he could remember Voldemort breaking the gigantic wards around Hogwarts with sheer power alone. Gathering his magic, he pushed it into the elder wand and its excited shivers rang like a death knell in his ears.

The veil obstructed the wave of magic like a wall and sucked it all in greedily. Its presence skyrocketed and he sent a silent apology to any other occupants of the department – he doubted any of them were conscious. The connection formed between the elder wand and the veil reminded him of the Priori Incantatem and his first sign that something was wrong was when the veil started forcefully siphoning him into its door.

He panicked and tried to sever the connection but for the first time in his life, he lost a battle of wills. The veil in its activated form reminded him of the portals shown in those muggle movies and that spelled no good for him. He retrieved his original holly wand from his holster and tried to interfere with the connection but his invisibility cloak chose that moment to come to life and drag him bodily to the veil.

Only when he was halfway through the veil did the epiphany about the actual function of the veil hit him. It was a goddamn portal, an inter-dimensional link, but not for the humans. The researchers didn't know how close they hit to home when they named it, 'The Gateway To Death.'

The apt name would've been, 'The Gateway For Death.'

The futility of his struggle registered in his mind a moment later when the part of the body that was stuck in the veil started to dissipate into finer particles and flowed further down the portal. The entire process was as painless as breathing and that did not bode well for him. He was no crusader for painful deaths but when things get this comfortable, the aftermath would be just as chaotic.

Perenelle was going to go apoplectic with rage when she learns of his disappearance. He thanked the gods that he wouldn't be there to witness that but he was sure that he'd face her wrath one way or the other. He didn't delude himself into believing that him being dead or in some alternate world would stop Perenelle Flamel.

At least, he was finally going to have that well-earned vacation.

His body reformed outside the portal to the sound of blaring alarms. He perceived panicked footsteps around him and immediately his hand flew to his wand holster, only to find it missing. Apparently, he was too hopeful to think that his wand would survive the journey. Or even clothes.

He flushed in embarrassment at the thought of a group of strangers seeing him stark naked and tried to find a good rock to hide behind – Growing up didn't desensitize him to nudity. He's a researcher, not a prison inmate. He was in a gray, circular room with an unevenly shaped black rock for a floor and a stark white marble for a ceiling. The whole room was empty, save for a single, ethereal...door standing in the middle of the room. His heart stopped for a moment and then kick-started again. He was in the Death Chamber! But he could swear that he was sucked into the portal, after the betrayal of the hallows. To think he was manhandled by a rock, a cloth and a piece of wood.

The unspeakables barged into the room with their wands in hands, prepared for an attack. Their surprise of only finding a naked boy lasted only a second before they started firing stunners at the boy.

The stunners, albeit non-lethal, were the last thing he expected from his colleagues and he rolled onto the floor at the last second to escape the plethora of spells. "What the hell, guys! Stop!"

But the unspeakables did not relent and Harry had to use his well-developed dueling instincts to the maximum to evade the spells unscathed. The whole chamber glowed an ominous red due to the stunners, with the occasional blue of Petrificus Totalus mixed in. He started making wandless shields and firing stunners of his own when he realized that he can't dodge all the spells but his wandless magic only served to further incite the unspeakables. Why the heck were they attacking him, anyway? Didn't they recognize him?

One of the stunners came too close to comfort and Harry tried to leap from one rock outcropping to other but it seemed that he had vastly overestimated his height. Only when he fell comically into the groove between the two outcroppings did he look down at his body and realized just how tiny he looked. He could easily pass for a nine or ten-year-old kid.

The unspeakables didn't waste this opportunity and he slipped into blissful unconsciousness when a lone stunner finally struck his chest.

Harry found himself staring at a high, dome-shaped ceiling when he opened his eyes. He was strapped to a mildly comfortable slab of stone that resembled an examination table more than a bed. A petrificus totalus would have done the job but apparently, he was deemed important or dangerous enough to warrant the straps that tied him to the bed.

"Ah, I see you're awake."

Harry thought he'd never be happy to hear Nicholas's voice. He was wrong. Between the betrayal of his hallows, getting sucked into a suspicious veil, attacked by his comrades and tied to a stone, he was elated to hear the grating voice of the head of the department.

"Nick! Thank god you're here, you old coot," his happiness at seeing Nicholas didn't hamper him from insulting the man. "Did all your employees go bonkers or something? Why did they attack me?"

"Because you're the first person in history to step out of the veil?" was Nicholas's snarky remark. The old man seemed to have other concerns in his mind, everything pertaining to the boy tied to the bed. "That aside, how do you know who I am, kid?"

"Did your age finally catch up with you?" Harry frowned in worry. "I live with you for Merlin's sake!"

Then Harry remembered that he had somehow shrunk down to his ten-year persona but that's no excuse to not recognize him. The green eyes and messy black hair should have been a dead giveaway. But to humor the old man, he went and said it, "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

"Potter?" Nicholas took a sharp intake of breath and his gaze sharpened to the point that Harry squirmed in apprehension. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am sure," Harry said in an affronted tone. Did he look stupid enough to confuse over his own name? But there was a nagging suspicion in Harry's head that he kept ignoring til now and he dared to say, "Why are you asking?"

To Harry's consternation, Nicholas remained silent for a few moments, the alchemist looking like he was arguing with himself whether to tell Harry the truth or not.

"The entire Potter family was murdered by the dark lord Dumbledore over thirty years ago," Nicholas's next words went unheard by Harry as his whole world crashed down, not because of the death of the family members he didn't even know of but the revelation that followed it. "There were no survivors."

Dark Lord Dumbledore? What the freaking hell? He always knew that the kind, grandfather persona of the headmaster was utter bull but he wouldn't go so far as to call him a dark lord. Dumbledore did have his manipulating, megalomaniac moments – Harry's life was the living proof of those manipulations – but his intentions were always in the right place, how twisted they might be. It's impossible to believe that the twinkly-eyed headmaster would murder a whole family.

"Kid. Hey, kid! Are you alright?" Nicholas touched Harry's shoulders in concern, shaking the green-eyed boy out of his reverie.

Harry took a deep breath to calm his nerves and prepared himself to face the truth. "W-what year is this?"

Nicholas frowned at the unusual question but the tremor in the boy's voice betrayed the importance of the answer. "1970. Why?"

'Well, shit.'

Despite his willingness to accept the facts, Harry blanked out the moment he heard the answer. Nicholas tried to prod him for answers but Harry remained insensate, giving annoying, flippant answers that made Nicholas glad to have no kids of his own.

Comprehending that whatever was troubling the boy would take time to come to terms with, Nicholas left to gather more facts about the situation, leaving the boy to stare unblinkingly at the ceiling.

Harry took full advantage of the hour he was provided to properly freak out. And he did. He was hysterical for a few moments, laughing like a madman stuck in Azkaban. Then he tried to shed a few tears before giving up on that endeavor. He was always bad at crying. He remembered Sirius telling him that he was a happy baby who cried once in a full moon, that too only when his parents tried to confiscate his toy broom or his dad was being stupid with him again.

Thinking of Sirius made him realize that he might meet with the younger, stupider version of the godfather he knew and Harry laughed about that until he remembered about the murder of the Potters. Then he lamented over how he'd never meet his father in his lifetime.

Experiencing such a wide spectrum of emotions made him exhausted and he slept for the last fifteen minutes. Nicholas, being a heartless bastard, woke him up with a rough shake of his shoulder. Harry opened his bleary eyes to stare at his unfamiliar surroundings, before remembering all the drama that his life was.

This time, Perenelle accompanied Nicholas, the woman looking as young as ever due to the elixir of life. Harry's mood brightened with the presence of Nicholas's much better half, who was his mother by all but blood. "Hey, Penny."

Perenelle blinked at the greeting and then smiled indulgently. "Hello, sweetie. What's your name?"

A pang of pain shot through his chest when he realized that this Penny would never know of her surrogate son, Harry Potter. "Harry."

"So, Harry, do you know how you appeared here?" Perenelle talked to him like he was little kid, which by all appearances he was. But that didn't mean he liked it. If it had been Nicholas talking to him like that, Harry would've hexed the old man to kingdom come.

Harry was about to reply when the answer to the mystery of Perenelle's presence here hit him and he glared at Nicholas. That old bastard somehow knew he had a soft spot for Perenelle and capitalized on it. "Using your wife for your dirty work, Nick?"

"This is the easy way to get answers out of you," Nicholas was unrepentant. "We can try the hard way if you want."

"Oh, hush you," Perenelle mock scolded Nicholas with a scowl marring her pretty face. "That's no way to talk to a child."

Nicholas mumbled to himself, something about 'bossy wives' and 'annoying kids' but the other two occupants of the room paid him no mind. Perenelle turned to Harry, with her usual gentle smile on her face. "You can only answer our questions if you're comfortable, Harry."

So, Harry did. He knew he had no other avenues and Perenelle was his best bet at getting out of here. At least, he could decide what to reveal and what not to if he was the one doing the talking. As an unspeakable himself, he knew the researchers would stop at nothing to get the truth out of him.

It took a long time to explain but Nicholas and Perenelle, in their infinite patience, didn't even interrupt him once. They only interjected when something was amiss or to clear the facts, with the occasional gasps of wonder mixed in at the life he lived – It was a pretty adventurous one if he was honest with himself. He left out the hallows out of his story since even he was not sure what the deal with them was. He could still feel his connection with the three harbingers of death but he was not able to summon them as he could before.

There was one part of the story that astounded even Nicholas and Perenelle, something he was not expecting. Perenelle recovered first and fired the question. "We gave you the elixir of life?!"

"Yeah," Harry answered hesitantly, not understanding what the big deal was. It wasn't like they couldn't always brew more of it with the stone. "What's wrong?"

Perenelle shared a glance with Nicholas before speaking. "When we first discovered the Philosophers stone, we knew that it's going to shake the world. People waged wars and even offered all the riches in the world for just a vial of elixir. We knew it shouldn't fall into wrong hands but even we can't be all-knowing. So to make sure that we never fall into the temptation, we made an unbreakable vow to never share it with anyone who's not family. I'm sure even the Nicholas and Perenelle of your world made that vow."

Harry's eyes were as wide as saucers by the time she finished. "B-but I'm not f-family!"

"You can work around the unbreakable vows, Harry," Perenelle answered with a look in her eyes that he couldn't place but it gave him a warm feeling in his chest. "Family doesn't just imply blood relations. You may not consider your own brother family but a person you've known and trusted your whole life can be one. So, to think they gave you the elixir means that you're truly a son to them."

A tear rolled out of the corner of Harry's eye and he tried to wipe it away, only to realize that his hands were tied. Perenelle and Nicholas looked away to give him some privacy. This seemed to be a day of revelations for him. He always felt that Perenelle loved him like a mother but the proof of it filled him with a foreign emotion; The love of mother had always been scarce to him to know what it feels like. To think that Nicholas, despite his uncaring, derisive facade thought of him as family was just as overwhelming.

As usual, Nicholas interrupted the melancholic mood with his unsympathetic remarks. But Harry was certain he could never look at the man the same way after that revelation. "It's all well and good but that doesn't explain how came about into this world."

"Yes I'm coming there," Harry snapped with a glower. "Geez, one would think that with being immortal, Nicholas would've finally developed some patience."

Perenelle giggled, earning a betrayed look from Nicholas. Harry then explained how the veil sucked him in when he tried to activate it, excluding the vital role his hallows played in his abduction.

Nicholas stroked his chin in thought after Harry's explanation, with a thoughtful frown on his face. "So you're telling me that the veil dragged you in and you somehow survived the experience but got turned into a ten-year-old."

"Welcome to my life," Harry said dryly, the blank look on his face telling just how used he was to these kinds of things.

"By all logic, your body shouldn't have reformed just as how your clothes and other things you're carrying didn't," Perenelle commented as she paced the room. "It's like the veil helped you get your body back. But that doesn't make any sense! The veil is non-sentient."

The topic of clothes made him glance down and his stark naked body greeted his sight. He flushed harder than Ginny did when he first met her at the Burrow. "Couldn't you have dressed me before tying me to the bed, Nicholas, you old pedophile? There's a woman here!"

"Oh, he's so cute," Perenelle squealed at the blushing boy. "Nick, can we keep him please?"

"He's not a puppy, Penny," Nicholas answered with a roll of his eyes at his wife's antics. "I don't want to raise this annoying kid."

"Don't be so heartless, Nick!" Perenelle admonished but that was offset by her chuckles at Harry's remark of 'That he is.' "He has nowhere to go."

"I'm sure he has some plans," Nicholas said flippantly, earning a scathing glare from his wife. "Don't you, kid?"

"Yes, let me contact my inter-dimensional trip planner and ask what arrangements he made for me," Harry's words were overflowing with sarcasm.

Perenelle lost herself in giggles at the sight of the ten-year-old boy rebuking her husband. "That's it. He's coming with us."

"Do whatever you want," was Nicholas's passing remark as he walked out of the room.

"Oh, don't mind him, Harry," Perenelle assuaged the boy as she watched Nicholas leave. "He has a cold exterior but he's a big softie at heart."

"He doesn't look like it for sure," Harry sounded disbelieving despite Perenelle's efforts, something the woman didn't fail to notice.

"Don't tell him I told you but he came to me after meeting you and didn't stop laughing about how a kid kept calling him 'old coot,'" Perenelle whispered with a mischievous look in her eyes. "Everybody puts him on a pedestal and your personality is like a breath of fresh air to him."

"He always did seem like a masochist to me," Harry laughed, feeling at peace for the first time since he entered his world as Perenelle's raucous laughter filled the air.

Far away from London, in the Headmaster's office of one of the most prestigious schools of Europe, Gellert Grindelwald sat in his throne-like chair, watching the quick quill write the Hogwarts letters of the new students coming this year. In these dark times, it always soothed his heart to read the names of all those innocent children who would be under his protection for the next seven years. It was a responsibility he held in the highest regard. The children of now were the future of tomorrow and he'd stop at nothing to ensure their safety.

The monotony was broken when the quick quill wrote a name he wasn't expecting to see in a million years. The name brought back to mind one of the greatest failures of his life. "Harry Potter? Now that's a name I haven't heard in a long time."

Author's Notes: This will be my chapter length and the updates will be weekly. I will try my best to post every Wednesday but I may miss the deadline.

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