Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic Corporation, and Warner Brothers.

Singularity: 1. the state, fact, or quality of being singular; a peculiarity

2. a point in space-time in which matter and energy are infinitely compressed to infinitesimal volume; a blackhole

Gravitational Collapse: 1. the inward fall of a body due to the pull of its own gravity

2. a temporary state of instability prior to the metamorphosis of a body

"You are quite young. Much younger than I imagined you would be," Professor Dumbledore observed to Harry in a light voice.

The headmaster had barely slept the night before. After sending his regrets to the minister, he sat by the fire and considered the meeting he would be attending the next day. Hours later, when he tried to fall asleep, his mind was too full of questions to rest and he was brimming with curiosity. His imagination ran rampant and he simply could not calm down enough to fall asleep. So he stayed up all night wondering what the meeting would bring.

The two men had been sitting at a table outside of Sheena and Kripali's Tea Emporium for several minutes in a comfortable silence. These two men were so very alike, though neither man recognized how much he was like the other. They were both brave and wise. Each man had known great loss and pain. Both had led wars and dueled dark lords. Both of them had the rare ability to maintain hope and optimism through the bleakest of times. And both men were content to simply examine each other while they sat drinking tea.

"Yes. I'm seventeen," Harry explained.

Seventeen, Dumbledore thought. Yes, he could easily believe that. The young man had a slightly boyish face and a thin, lanky frame. But there was a hardness, a sadness in his eyes. A sadness that spoke of a harsh life and a brave soul. It aged the boy greatly. It broke the professor's heart that one so young had known such pain.

"I'll be eighteen in a month," the young man added.

Dumbledore took a sip of tea from his cup.

"And, if I may ask, what is your name?" the professor replied.

The teenager's eyes widened and he said, "Oh! I forgot to tell you my name. Sorry. It's Harry."

"Harry...?" Dumbledore retorted, in askance of a surname.

"Just Harry," the young man said with a smile on his face.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, dear boy. I'd introduce myself, Harry, but I find that it might, I think, be unnecessary. You seem quite aware of who I am," the headmaster said with twinkling eyes.

Harry gave a slight, knowing smile and said, "Yes, I know who you are, professor."

"You are not a student of mine," the professor stated as he raised an inquisitive eyebrow, with the implicit question clear.

"No. I'm not. At least not anymore. Or rather not yet," Harry stated jovially.

A look of confusion crossed the older man's face. Harry gave a slight smile at the sight of it.

Harry reveled for a moment in the look of discomfort that crossed the professor's face. It was not often that the headmaster was the less informed party in a discussion. Harry thought it was a nice change of pace for the man to be forced to scavenge all the information he could from veiled phrases that held hidden meanings. He held no ill will for the man, but the temptation to confuse the master of ambiguity was too great for the teenager to resist.

"I'm afraid I don't understand your meaning, dear boy," said the professor.

"Well, I'm not from here," he replied.

"And where is it that you are from?" the professor asked.

"It's not so much a where I am from as it is a when I am from," the young man retorted.

"I'm afraid I still do not understand what you mean, dear boy," Dumbledore informed the young man.

"Ah," Harry said. "Then I'll speak more plainly. I've been sent back in time against my will and I need your help to try to figure out how to get back home."

A look of shock crossed Professor Dumbledore's face. It was not often that he was taken by surprise and this boy had managed to shock him two times in just as many days. This Harry was certainly a peculiar young man.

Harry's eyes lit up with silent laughter at the look on his professor's face. At the sight of the young man's silent laughter, Dumbledore's eyes began to twinkle brightly. The mischief in the boy's eyes brightened them and made him look much more like a seventeen year old boy should.

He liked this young man, Dumbledore decided. The professor had discovered that the young man was very easy to like. Harry was clearly a mischievious young man. But that was not the thing that drew Dumbledore towards the boy.

It was the kindness and goodness that the boy radiated. His geniality. The young man seemed to possess a rare type of optimism. It was not a naïve optimism, but an optimism that had survived hardship and known great pain. An optimism bred of experience and wisdom and inspired great hope. He had never known anyone, other than himself, that had maintained their faith through such pain as he had known until just this morning. It was very refreshing. And it drew him to the young man.

Though the young man's statement was nearly unbelievable, Dumbledore did not doubt its veracity for a moment. Harry was from the future. He could see the truth in the boy's eyes. And though the boy was clearly having a laugh, it was evident that he was somewhat troubled by his trip. There was a resilience in the boy, though. The young man was clearly a man of dedication and bravery. He would not let the apparent hopelessness of the situation keep him from making an attempt to solve the problem.

"You seem to be quite calm about this," Dumbledore could not help but observe.

Harry shrugged in response and his cavalier attitude revealed much about the boy.

"I try not to let these sorts of things trouble me too much, professor. The world keeps moving and if you don't move with it, it'll drag you along anyways. I've come to realize that it's best just to go with it," Harry told his professor.

"That sounds like a statement learned from experience. You must have a knack for trouble,then," he told the boy with a slight smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

The boy smiled back. Dumbledore was glad to see that the boy could see the funny side of things in life. Harry was able to see the ridiculousness of his situation and laugh at it. Dumbledore loved a man that could smile in trouble, that could gather strength from distress and grow. And Harry was clearly one of those rare men. He was liking this young man more and more.

"Yes, professor. I would say that sums me up pretty well. A magnet for trouble," Harry said.

The two men sat in a genial silence for several minutes, considering the situation and enjoying the company and the tea.

"So you want me to help you get back to your own time?" the professor asked.

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"And when is that time, may I ask?" Dumbledore could not resist asking.

Harry gave Dumbledore a considering look and then said, "I don't think it would be wise to tell you that, Professor. It would make meddling with things far too easy."

Dumbledore considered Harry's statement for a moment before nodding in acquiescence.

"Of course, you're right, dear boy. I shouldn't have asked. It was terribly rude of me," he assured the boy.

Harry nodded absentmindedly in response.

"Why me?" the headmaster asked.

"I had a number of reasons. The first is that you're completely brilliant. Also, because you're the most powerful wizard of the time. Because I knew you wouldn't ship me off to St. Mungo's for a mental health exam or the Department of Mysteries for an interrogation. Because you have complete access to one of the most extensive magical libraries in the world," Harry paused there and then, almost reluctantly, added, "And because I believe you to be an honorable man."

Dumbledore paused. The boy's trust in him was stirring. Despite having just met the child, he felt a connection with the young man. And the young man's faith bolstered him. It made him want to earn that trust. It made him want to be the good man the boy believed him to be.

"I'll do everything in my power to help you, Harry," Dumbledore said sincerely.

"Thank you, professor. You have no idea what this means to me," Harry said soberly.

They two wizards resumed their intense silence. Both were considering the ramifications of the agreement they had just made. The professor was observing the patrons of the tea shop and Harry was observing the professor. Harry broke the peace.

"If I may make a request, professor?" Harry asked.

"Of course! Anything, my boy," the headmaster retorted.

"I want you to tell Minerva McGonagall what I've told you today," he said.

Professor Dumbledore was perplexed.

"You wish me to share this with Minerva?" he asked in confusion.

Harry replied with a simple, "Yes."

"May I inquire as to the reason?" Dumbledore posed.

Harry sat quietly in consideration for a moment before answering the professor's question.

"There was a president from across the pond named Abraham Lincoln. He said something that... that was so right. He said, 'You can fool some of the people all of the time and you can fool all of the people some of the time, but you can never fool all of the people all of the time,'" he said and then after a short pause continued.

"You can't keep a secret from everyone, professor. Especially a secret this big. Everyone needs someone to confide in. Even you. Secrets weigh you down. Walking around with the weight of the world on your shoulders will wear you out eventually, professor. Trust me. I know. And besides that, McGonagall is an absolutely brilliant witch so she might be able to help us. I know that I would trust her. And if you don't trust her, then you really don't trust anyone, sir," he ended.

Dumbledore gave his head a slight tilt and looked at the young man. Really, truly examined him. And as he did, he noticed several things about the boy that he had not already catalogued. The man was covered in old scars and wounds. A lightning bolt on his forehead, a scar across his cheek, a burn around his neck, a long slice on his forearm, words carved into the back of his hand. There were scars all over the man.

This boy is a warrior, Dumbledore thought. And that realization explained much about the boy- no, man. His hard eyes, his calm demeanor, his vigilance, his wisdom. And suddenly, Dumbledore felt much more like the old man he was. This seventeen year old is a battle-hardened veteran. An experienced fighter, he thought. It broke his heart.

It was then at that moment that Albus Dumbledore decided that he would do everything in his ability to help this man.

So he nodded his head and agreed to tell Minerva about his situation. Harry gave a contented smile and leaned back in his chair, watching the people walk by.

"Just out of curiosity, how do you know that Minerva and I are so close? I wouldn't have thought that our friendship would be common knowledge in the future. It seems like an unimportant fact. Hisotrically, I mean," Dumbledore posed to Harry.

"You and McGonagall are two of the most well known heads of Hogwarts. And also, when I am from, there is a war. A horrible war. And when a war like that is going on, military history becomes something of a point of interest for a lot of people. Your exploits together against Grindlewald are a keystone of the fight against of dark wizardry," Harry retorted.

"So Minerva finally gets the recognition she deserves for her role in the war?" Dumbledore asked with piqued interest.

"Not quite. I read Hogwarts, A History: the Unabridged Version, and that was how I first learned about McGonagall being a spy during the war. Plus, I know muggle history as well. McGonagall's better known in the muggle world for being a spy in Grindlewald's camp," he explained.

"The muggles know about Grindlewald?" the headmaster replied with alarm..

"Of course they do. You can't hide that amout of destruction from the muggle world. They just don't know that he was a wizard. They think he was one of Hitler's closest lieutenants. And you are credited with taking him down, but McGonagall's known for being a spy for the Allies in the Reich and the muggle femenists love her 'cause she's one of the only historical female war heroes," Harry informed the headmaster.

Dumblerdore stared in shock. He knew of Minerva's bravery. She was Gryffindor through and through. He had known that fact since the first time he saw her in her first year, when she sat on the stool with the Sorting Hat on her head and became the first of the McGonagall Clan to placed in a house other than Slytherin. He had stood back to back with her in battle and seen her fight more fiercely than any Auror or soldier he'd ever known. He knew of her bravery. But he had no idea that anyone else had discovered it in her.

"She's probably even better known than you in some parts of the world, I'd venture to say," Harry added.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in question.

"In France, her help in the cleanup post-Grindlewald earned her the Légion d'Honneur, the Croix de guerre palme en vermeil, and the Ordre de la Libération. She's a hero in France. And she earned a German decoration as well, but I can't remember what it was. My German is not as good as my French," Harry said.

"She earned the Großes Verdienstkreuz mit Stern in Germany. We both got our crosses at the same ceremony," Dumbledore inserted.

Harry nodded absentmindedly and added, "It's only in Britain that people think she is just a harmless school teacher. Or at least, when I'm from."

They resumed a silence.

"Would you like to come with me to Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked spontaneously.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the headmaster.

"If you are looking to research magical time-travel, there is no library better in all of Britain than the library at Hogwarts," the professor added.

Harry mulled the idea over. The professor was right. Hogwarts did have the greatest library in all of Great Britain. And there was no place he felt more at home in than the castle. But he was not sure whether or not he could stay in the castle without being reminded of the battle. About Fred. About Remus. About Tonks. About Colin. About everyone he had left in his time. Was he strong enough to handle it?

Harry mulled the idea over in his head. As he thought Dumbledore stared at him and would not look away. Harry glanced up at the headmaster and stiffened his shoulders. He nodded.

"I would, professor. I'd like to go to Hogwarts," was all Harry said.

With a half-smile, Dumbledore stood from the table and said, "Then let us embark on the flighty temptress we call adventure."

Harry gave a wistful smile at the headmaster's statement. He recalled that the man would make the same comment to him nearly twenty years later. Harry then stood, following Dumbledore's example. He reached into his pocket and grabbed enough money to pay the bill. He laid it on the table and gave a slight smile to the headmaster. The headmaster smiled in return and he led them down the road until they came to an empty alley.

"This will do, I think," Dumbledore said to Harry.

"Will we be apparating?" Harry asked.

"Side-long, if you don't consider it bothersome," the professor retorted.

"Not at all," Harry replied.

Professor Dumbledore gently grabbed Harry's arm and with a quiet pop, they disappeared.