A couple of things before reading. This is a time travel story, but not in the way many others do so. Not the whole he dies and go back, or time turner troubles, or sending his body back.

No, this is a bit more original, and I say original because I have yet to read a story that does this. Hopefully you enjoy what I have to offer.

I know I have other stories I could write on, but this one is really getting to me, so I had to release at least one chapter of it. Depending on the reviews, I will post more. Call me a stickler, but I have to get ready for finals, so focusing on too many things at once will kill me.

Anyway, lets get on with this...

*I own nothing, only my ideas, but I can't copyright those either.*

Chapter 1: Prologue

A small box made its way down a hallway, carried by a woman dressed in white and baby blue. Turning the corner down the dreary and sad corridor, she made her way bast several elderly people, trying her best to ignore their groans or the occasional catcall of the more perverted individuals. As she made it to the end of the walkway, she came across as simple brown door, with the number '627' on it. Knocking softly, she leaned in to the door.

"Mr Adalin, I have some news for you. Are you awake?" She asked, waiting patiently. A small clattering of metal signaled her that someone was in the room.

"Yes dear lady, please come in." A gruff voice answered, to which the woman nodded and creaked open the door, taking a step into the room.

It was plain. The walls were a soft grey, the only furniture being a chair stationed in front of a vintage TV. A small bed that was worn and sagged, the metal springs being a bit past their age and the wooden base beams being weary of too much weight. The desk from across the woman was littered with several open books, most of which of fairy tales and folklore of old. Finally, the last was a wheelchair, but currently occupied by a long bearded old man.

"Oh, Maradith, how good to see you." The elderly man stated with a soft smile, rolling himself around to look at her.

Maradith smiled back at the old man, finding herself once again captured in his lost but no less intelligent eyes. "Thank you Mr Adalin. I just wanted to inform you of some things. First of all, a new package arrived." She stated, holding up the small package with a hand firmly gripping the cardboard. The aged man smiled even wider, though his face wouldn't allow him to move his face as much as he would have liked.

"Of, how wonderful. Thank you Maradith. Please place it on the desk over there, just be careful of some of the books, they are older than I." He softly chuckled, to which she felt her self do the same.

"You seem to order quite a few things online, Mr Adalin. " The caretaker stated, walking over to the desk where all his books lay open. As she set down the item, she couldn't help but glance at some of the stories that laid open. To be honest, she had never heard of half of these books. What in the world was The Beedle and the Bard?

The old man's chuckle broke her from her thougthts. "Well, you can't expect me to enjoy TV all day, much less spend time gossiping with Mrs Goldfield about what her daughters are doing. Besides, the rocks I collect are quite beautiful." He answered, rolling around once again, the wheels clicking against the warped metal of the chair.

"I can't help but agree with you there Mr Adalin. On both accounts." she stated, smoothing out her dress and looking at the small assortment of brightly colored rocks that littered his nightstand. Maradith was about to say something else when a flash of remembrance entered her mind. "Actually, I almost forgot, but I have other news."

"Oh? Is it meatloaf Monday already?" The elderly gentleman stated with a slight bit of cheer in his voice. Maradith shook her head. "No Mr Adalin, it's only Saturday...I need to inform you that your... grandson has arrived to visit." She stated with a bit of bitterness in her voice.

The room seemed to loose all life at the statement, the cheery old man going from his happy disposition to solemn in a matter of seconds. His eyes seemed to drain away into cold stoic emptiness. "I see." He stated simply. The old man rolled over to his window, looking out from his second floor window, his face hidden away from Maradith's vision.

"Send him in. He is impatient and will most likely get himself lost in an attempt to come looking for me." And with that, Maradith nodded, reluctantly going to fetch the most mild mannered and gentle member of the retirement center's family member. One that didn't resemble him in the slightest.

After Maradith left, closing the door behind her, it wasn't long, maybe a few moments, until a hand slammed open the room's door, steps following behind, stomping their way up to the aged gentleman, who was still faced towards the window.

"Judging by the amount of noise, I must guess it's Maxwell." The gruff voice exited the retired man's lips, not even bothering to turn and face his grandson.

"I don't have time for games, Grandfather." A snobbish voice grouted out, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair and spinning them around as so both adults were facing each other. However, the boy immediately let go of the chair and took a step back when he saw the cold and powerful look his grandfather gave him. The ice practically freezing over the emeralds trapped within. The young man straightened himself out and realigned his expensive attire.

"What do you need, Maxwell. You never visit unless it-"

"The coffers are empty, as well as the treasury, vaults, and family chests. There is nothing left!" The man whined out furiously. The handicapped gentleman simply sighed.

"I as I tried to state, the only time you come to visit is when it involves money." The boy sneered at his elder.

"I need money for my son's upcoming school year. He is a second year and needs a new Nimbus XV 4000 to make the team." The old man rolled his eyes and re-positioned himself over to the window, looking down upon the view that he has grown accustom to. The flowers of bright lavender and bright white lilies and orchids. He could stare for years. He already has been doing so for quite a while.

"I'm talking to you old man. What am I suppose to do?! There is no money left in the family accounts!" The man child whined out, his voice permeating the walls and garnering the attention of the nurses and caretakers listening in.

"Why don't you get a job." The old man state tersely. "And tell everyone else to as well. Your Aunts, Uncles, parents, brothers, and sisters. Who knows, you might just learn a bit of work ethic." The elderly man sighed, retaking control of his composure. "I gave your parents plenty of opportunities, as well as you and your siblings. You could have saved the family name, but instead, you continued to drag it through the mud, not caring the slightest about the future." The old man turned around, leveling a gaze at his now anger filled grandson. "Now your are penniless, as you left me all those years ago. I was smart enough to save some money so I could spend my final days here, but you and the rest of them have not done the same, and you will suffer the consequen- arrg!" Before the elderly man could finish, his chair was knocked over by a blast of energy, leaving him aching on the floor.

The eavesdropping nurses opened the door as soon as they heard the sounds, rushing over to the downed old man, not noticing the other in the room slip a piece of polished wood back up his sleeve. Maradith looked down at the now groaning man, looking him over. She looked up at his grandson and glared at him. "Please leave now Mr Weasley, before I call security." The vulgar man leveled more last glance at the now downed senior before sauntering out the door.

"Mr Adalin, are you alright?" Maradith asked. The old man waved his hand, grabbing a hold of his chair, and slowly pulling himself back into it.

"I'm fine dear, thank you for your concern. I should have seen that coming." The elderly man huffed out. "That boy has his Great Uncle Ronald's temper, and is as bullheaded as Ginerva." He spoke evenly, making great effort not to let his magic spring out and scare the caretakers.

After double-checking the aged man, going over his possible injuries, the woman were all ushered out by said man, who hated nurses with a passion. He was eventually left to himself, waving goodbye to Maradith one more time before the door closed. The elderly man sighed, now having his room to himself once more.

*Tap Tap*

Or not.

Looking over to the glass of the window, the aged gentleman caught sight of a small animal, one with a letter in its beak. Rolling over to the window, the old man pushed the window open, looking down at the owl that level a mean gaze at him. "What do you want little creature? A treat?" The owl nodded to the offer, to which the man reached over to his desk and grabbed a small bag, pulling out a few treats and handing them to the owl, who traded with him in exchange for the letter. Grabbing a hold of the letter, he immediately recognized the emblem. Tearing open the letter with old and careful fingers, he broke the wax and pulled out the wrinkled parchment, which was inscribed by his most/least favorite people.

West Chester, New York, United States of America

15400 Fordridge Way

Pillshire Greens Retirement Center

Building C, Room 627

Dear Lord Potter-Black,

We regret to inform you that all the monies at Gringotts bank under your name, including heirlooms, vaults, family treasures, and portraits, have been confiscated for the overwhelming debt that you have acquired. While we have ignored this problem because of our friendship, the debt has grown too high due to your family's voracious spending. All vaults and treasuries have been placed on lock-down until payments can be made.

Sincerely, King Garthorn, Son of Ragnok

The old man sighed, looking over at the bird. "You may go, little one, I have no need to send anything back to them." The bird bobbed its head and flew off, leaving the broke man to himself. He stayed still in his seat, not moving an inch as he thought about his current predicament.

"Actually, I have nothing left to say to anyone." He mummered, rolling over to his desk, pushing away his old books and grabbing a hold of the package. Tearing it open with tarnished fingers, he came across the sight that brought a smile to his wrinkled face.

"Finally." He stated with relief.

Placing the box on his lap, the elder Potter rolled over to the door and locked it before making his way to his bed, placing his hand on the faded banister wood. After a moment of focus, a rug rolled out from underneath, spreading and taking up most of the floor of the sparse room. Using a bit of wandless magic, he called forth the rocks on his nightstand one by one. As he did so, he leaned down from his chair and rolled around the edge of the rug, placing the gems in each slot where they belonged, the runes surrounding them humming as soon as they were in place. Green, blue, gold, silver, while, clear, red, the colors of different and diverse rocks and stones were placed in a pattern. Before he finished his circle, the old man pushed himself out of his wheelchair, using his arms to crawl his way to the center of the rug, careful not to knock around the fragile gems that were now humming with magic.

As he finally placed his damaged legs in a criss cross for stability. he continued to summon his rocks and placed them where they went. The rug began to glow even brighter, each of the stones vibrating with the energy of his magic, which has been imbued into the very strings and stitch of the surface it lay on top of. The runes all interconnected, glowing softly in a a network that led to where he now sat. Finally, he summoned the little brown box, pulling out the last item. A single tiny piece of stone, one that seemed to shine with an ethereal energy. It was red in color, much smaller than any of the others yet seemed to have the most power.

"You were a hard one to find little one. Flamel did well to hide the pieces after his death but Shackelbot's kids seemed to find one of you." He chuckled was true that Nicholas Flamel destroyed the stone, but he could not fully eradicate it. It was broken so it could not make the elixir or make gold, but that didn't mean the pieces were useless either.

Channeling his magic through the rune covered rug, Harry James Potter aligned himself with his magic, calling upon it to do what he commanded. The rocks on the rug began to float in the air, staying just over where they had been positioned previous, tendrils of magic still holding them in place directly above their focus.

Magica potentia matris testor et redemptio. Mitte animus movetur in principio. Et magicae Utinam liceat mihi, ut melius recta se Haeduorum iniurias vitia corrigere meam praeteritam. Discite benefacere quaerite iudicium meum et familiam ad amoris.

As the chant continued, the walls began to shake with magic. The entire retirement home was vibrating with power, scaring the elderly and the caretakers alike. Harry couldn't hear the pounding on his door, nor could he sense the chaos he was causing. He was so engrossed in his magic that he had detached himself from the real world.

Just as his door was broken open and security, who saw the most glorious sight of a man hovering in the air with magic and energy spinning around him like a star system, he dropped to the ground, his body flopping lazily to the glowing rug, lifeless, his eyes dead before he even hit the ground.

However, as the security checked over the dead man, as well as the strange power he just channeled through the whole building, something else occurred. In a different time, a screaming man, who drooled and yelled insanely, suddenly stopped his daily actions, his once manic brown eyes changing into intelligent and powerful green.